Went to Uluru today. We have all seen pictures, but nothing prepares you for the reality – especially the way that it rises, without fuss, directly from the flat desert floor. There’s nothing else for miles, then suddenly this gigantic red rock. Actually, the red colour is iron oxide staining what would otherwise be a much less attractive grey rock. Try selling pictures of that! Higher than the Eiffel Tower, it was laid down 640 million years ago (or less than 5,000 years ago if you go to school in Kansas). There are algal deposits down the sides, from running water – it rains there from time to time – and a couple of decent waterholes. The bloodwood trees were in bloom, because it rained a few days ago; they don’t bloom on a seasonal cycle, they just wait for it to rain, then off they go.

The purpose of the trip was to see the monolith at sunset, and I have enclosed a pic of this – pretty good, no? No wonder the local indigenous folk attribute all sorts of magic to it. Parts of it, sacred to the Anunga, are out of bounds, and this is respected by the tour operators.

To Kata Tjuta. Formerly known as The Olgas, discovered in 1872 by explorer Ernest Giles, and named for Queen Olga of Württemburg, Kata Tjuta is a series of sandstone and basalt domes. Bigger than Uluru, though made of several individual pieces, not just the one. Walked the Walpa Gorge; not strictly a gorge so much as the crevice between two of the domes. Stunning scenery, parrots in the trees, and camel poo on the track.

Tjuta, Uluru, and Mount Conner, collectively the three monoliths of Central Kata Australia, are all that’s left of the once-mighty Petermann range, the rest now eroded completely away.

Haven’t seen a kangaroo yet, other than a dead one beside the road, but did see some wild camels. They are the descendents of those introduced to the country as draught animals, but which, their career cut short by the arrival of the railway were released into the wild. There are also wild horses, called brumbies, but we didn’t see any.

Took the bus to Kings Canyon, 300 km up the Lasseter Highway. 300 km without passing a single habitation. Surprisingly verdant though – they’ve had some decent rains, following fires, perfect conditions for new growth. Stopped en route at the International Coach Station of Central Australia – in reality a pull-in near a crossroads where, by prior arrangement, passengers are transferred between buses. A practical arrangement, given the emptiness of the terrain.

Just before Kings Canyon, we stopped at Kings Creek Station. ‘Station’ in this context means something close to ‘ranch’. This one farms camels, and caters to the passing trade between Ayers Rock and Alice Springs. This is the real outback, lacking, how can I put this, sophistication. If you felt in need of a camelburger, this is the place to come. Their coffee very good though.

Overnight at Kings Canyon resort, and on to Alice Springs tomorrow.

Don't pet the dingos

It is really difficult to appreciate the vast size of Australia, or the huge distances involved. We were chatting to the waitress at dinner the other night; she said that she came from a small town in NSW, about 8 hours from Sydney. If you were eight hours from anywhere in England you’d be in Germany. She said that when she and her boyfriend drove here (Perth) from NSW it took four days. It’s difficult to imagine a journey that long, especially as vast stretches of it there would be nothing at all to keep you awake.

Drove the rental car back to Perth Domestic Airport and took the ten o’clock to Ayers Rock, as the airport is still called. Named after Sir Henry Ayers, a prominent businessman and former premier of South Australia, the rock itself is more than two miles long, over a mile wide and 342m high. A single piece of sandstone, it is reputed to extend 3 miles underground (how do they know?) and is a very big deal to the local indigenous people, the Anangu. The whole area is sacred to them; in 1985 the land was ceded back to the Anangu, and the traditional names reinstated. The land is currently leased back to the Australian government, and jointly managed

Flying out here – a relatively short two-and-a-bit hours – you can see the barrenness of the land. With no cloud to obscure the view you could see that there was absolutely nothing down there but baked ground and scrubby vegetation. The only visual variety was that the ground became redder as you got nearer the centre. While you are waiting for your luggage to come off the belt, you can read a poster warning you to watch out for dingos. Their advice is not to stroke them.

We’re staying at what is really the only place you can stay, given there is no town as such, the Ayers Rock Desert Resort, which is a complex of hotels, restaurants, shops and whatnot. It’s completely self contained, and everything’s very expensive because it has to be brought in from a long way away. Everyone who works here has to live here as well. It’s around 30 degrees now, much cooler than in summer, we’re told, and there’s a surprising amount of actual green, as opposed to scrubby, vegetation here. Flies are a big problem. They’re harmless, just a nuisance, and a lot of people are going about wearing hat-mounted mosquito nets. It looks a bit idiotic, but it may be better than flies up your nose. We’ll see. Tomorrow (Weds) we go to see Uluru, staying until sunset to see the changing colours, followed by a barbie. The following day we’re up very early to see the rock at sunrise, after which we go on to the next bit of the tour, Kings Canyon. That ends up, the following day, at Alice Springs.

Internet access is very difficult to find so this may be my last posting for a few days

Sunday, 30+ degrees, so we headed for the beach. The Sunset Coast, just north of Perth city, goes from Cottesloe up to Scarborough, miles of white sand. You’ll get the idea from the picture. To get there you have to get down to Riverside Drive, then onto the Stirling Highway. What we didn’t know, though everyone else in Perth did, was that today is the Perth Triathlon. The cycling bit was taking place along Riverside Drive, so all the access roads were closed. We had no choice but to head into the city, where we had an hour or more of sitting in a jam, trying to find a route, anywhere. We couldn’t even get back to our apartment. Eventually we discovered that we could get to Kings Park, where we knew we could park and get some lunch, and wait for the roads to reopen.

After some lunch, and a visit to the Aboriginal Art exhibition, we could see traffic was moving along the river, so we headed off up to Cottesloe, three hours later than planned. Given it was a Sunday, and hot, the beaches were pretty parked up, but we found a place at Swanbourne (or Swanny, as it says on the life guard’s hut) and had our first dip in the Indian Ocean. The swell was not enough to please a surfer, but enough to trouble you if your bathers elastic was a bit dodgy. If you like the beach, this was the place to be: a few surfer dudes, families, a beachside restaurant with showers, and a life saver hut with Swanny on its board. What more could you ask?

Kings Park was established at the end of the 19th century and covers 1,000 acres of Mt Eliza, overlooking Perth. It is mainly bushland, but includes many cultivated areas showcasing the flora of WA, and botanical gardens. There is an elevated treetop walkway, so you can get a better view of the colourful birds. Up the far end, where we didn’t go, there are child-friendly interactive things. In addition to the usual information centre, coffee place, and shop, there is a memorial to the Western Australians who died in the two World Wars, and another to the victims of the Bali bombing. Also, the Aussies are keen on commemorating notable Australians, especially if they were influential in WA. So there are plaques everywhere: some for various women’s groups, perhaps active in the suffrage movement, often merely for existing at all – the WA Macedonian Women’s Group for example, for their contribution to something or other. There are lots of men honoured too – local politicos, some bloke who was the chaplain in the goldfields, anyone who in some way made things a little better. The best thing, though, is the fantastic views it offers of the Swan River, and Perth itself. It really is worth the trip for that alone. The picture shows a typical view.

We entered the park by climbing the 242-step Jacob’s Ladder, and noticed that, when we left, around 6pm, the steps were being used as an impromptu jogging track by a surprisingly large number of people, some just running up and back down several times. Back home you have to join a gym for that sort of thing.

WA is the biggest Australian state, accounting for around one third of the total area, yet it is largely empty. Nearly everyone lives in Perth and Fremantle. It’s a wealthy state, originally from gold and opal mining, more recently from iron ore and other minerals. This prosperity is reflected in the state capital, Perth, which looks as though it has been designed to win a best city contest; the broad, clean streets, pristine buildings, greenery, the river and the Indian Ocean beyond. It is sunny nearly every day, yet there is no water shortage. The people who live here really are very fortunate.

A lot of things here show Oz’s British history, especially place names and street names. For example, you have His Majesty’s Theatre, Guildford, Herne Hill, Palmerston Street, Brighton Road, and suchlike. Aboriginal influence is also clear from some of the place names, Joondalup for example, and Gidgegannup. Looking at the map of the Swan Valley, which I have in front of me, you can see the sort of tell-it-like-it-is descriptive names that we see on wine labels: names like Windy Ridge, Rocky Gully, and Dingo’s Bum. (OK, I may have made one of them up). There is a town up the coast called Shark Bay. They actually called their town Shark Bay. (Presumably Paedophile Bay was already taken.) “I know, we’ll go for Shark Bay!. That’ll bring in the tourists!” Some things are the same as in England but called something different: Walls’ ice cream is called ‘Streets’,and a Mondeo is a Ford Falcon. One thing I’ve noticed is that real estate boards here carry a cheesy picture of the realtor, looking faux-sincere, or faux-thoughtful, depending on the image they want to project. Really horrible.

Perth. The worlds most isolated city. Sail west and your first landfall is South Africa; to the south, Antartica; Sydney is nearly 4,000km to the East. In fact, if you want to find anywhere with more than about six people you need to go north, to Indonesia, and that’s 3,000 km. So, pretty isolated, then.

But it’s a spacious, confident-looking place, with the Swan River at its heart: broad three lane roads, modern skyscrapers, lots of greenery and trees, blue sky, busier than I’d expected. Free buses in the city centre.

We’re partly self-catering here so we had to go food shopping. Who’d have guessed that Woolworths, here, has green signage and is a food supermarket?

Went out to the airport this morning to pick up the rental car – we flew in too late last night so the rental desk was closed – which turns out to be a Holden Epica, but it looks like a Vauxhall to me. While I was waiting for the car to be brought round, I was idly looking at the display of brochures detailing the various charms of Western Australia, and edging away from a trio of people dressed in a uniform of orange shirts and bush hats. I thought they might want to tell me about Jesus, but it turns out they were volunteer WA tourist-helpers. One of them, Neville, turned out to be enormously helpful on Perth-related topics and, learning we were from Worthing, confessed that he had spent his wild youth there (well, Brighton). Brighton Pier seemed to hold fond memories for him. I think his wild days were long behind him.

The apartment here is close to the central business district (CBD as they say here) and has a bedroom, bathroom, and well-equipped kitchen/diner/lounge, air-con of course. We have a telly which can receive all manner of Murdoch-owned crap, but very little for grownups. We’re wi-fi enabled, but only on production of a credit card; you have to buy a minimum of an hour, but it is a specific hour, not 60 minutes to use when you like, so I have to plan my online time carefully. We also have a balcony with table and chairs, which enables a view of the tennis court. Oh, and a six lane flyover. Not like in Sorrento where we had a balcony from which we looked out on the Bay of Naples and Vesuvius. Then again, Italy doesn’t have kangaroos.

Temperature is in the upper 20s, and there is a SW breeze here which springs up about 11am most days, called the Fremantle Doctor (because it makes you feel better). Some days it gets quite strong. There is a small pool here and I noticed that one of the parasols had blown in the water.

Tomorrow (Friday) we’re going to explore the little towns and beaches to the North. Pam at my French class recommended having a look at Cottesloe, so we’ll do that, and maybe Scarborough. Everyone says we must go to Kings Park, so we’ll do that too. Because of a late change of plane times from Singapore, we’ve got a bit less time in Perth than we thought, and we want to explore a bit, and go to Rottnest Island. More anon.

I had a banana in my carry-on bag, to eat on the plane, but I forget about it. Arriving at Customs in Perth, you are faced with big signs warning against the importation of many things, including fruit. Fortunately I was able to put the offending item in the quarantine tub before it was discovered. The import of alien bananas is considered a serious crime in Australia, punishable by imprisonment and/or a fine of $60,000 (I am not making this up). Good job they didn’t find the rhubarb I’d hidden in my sock.