Note From The Red Centre
After fearing for my life deep on the Great Barrier Reef, I find myself with Felice in what is known as the Red Centre, with Uluru right outside my window.
If you’re wondering why I haven’t responded to your e-mail, it’s because I can’t log in, something to do with Windows and Australia and a great big sea.
Funny thing about Australians, they’re funny! Everybody here seems to have a great sense of humor. And the yogurt is fantastic. And Burger King is Hungry Jack’s!
One doesn’t have to worry about ugly Americans here, because we’re outnumbered, frequently ten or fifteen to one. So far I’d say that’s been the most exciting element of the trip, the different people, more than the locations.
But this location! Whew!
We almost skipped Ayers Rock, but ended up booking it at the last moment.
Flying in from Cairns the terrain resembled nothing so much as a moonscape. Get dropped alone out here, and you die!
And the Rock… It IS red. And mesmerizing. And the patterns displayed as a result of light and dark make you feel like you’re in an IMAX movie. A real one, with no seats but an endless screen.
This hotel is too much. We’re staying in a tent!
And there are guides who showed us exactly where to stand so we could view the sunset’s effect on the rock.
I’m waking up at 5:45 tomorrow for a sunrise walk. If you know me, you’re in shock, because the last time I saw 5:45, it was from the other side!
So, I hope you’re doing well, whatever day or time it is.
Right now it’s 7:25 Down Under (Uluru is half an hour ahead of Sydney and Cairns!) I’ve got to leave this public computer and get ready for dinner. We’re here until Thursday, when we descend upon Phil Tripp’s conference.
As for the Great Barrier Reef, I didn’t see Nemo, but I did see a lot of his cousins. And that whispy white/transparent thing, that looks like a floating Kleenex, I saw that too. First foray was off a sand cay. The second was out in the middle of the sea, amongst breakers, where the help on the boat insisted I go out because the fish were so fucking big and the drop-off at the end was so fucking deep. I was afraid, as many of the people on the boat were. So, they sent me out with a guide. But I don’t think the guide, who was French, realized my issue was fear, for he started schlepping me all over the reef, me bobbing my head up occasionally to see how far from the boat we were. Finally, my arms tired, I told him I was going to go in. And then he abandoned me! We were only twenty or so feet from the vessel, but my snorkel was filling, the whitecaps were cresting, my arms were tired and…luckily, the current pulled me to my desired location. I’ve truly developed a fear, um, healthy respect, for Mother Nature as the years have worn on!
