The park surrounding Uluru (Ayers rock) is jointly run by the Aborigines and the Australian government. At the entrance you’re handed a sheet with an extensive list of rules and penalties.
Like Ulura, the penalties are quite steep. Talking back to a park ranger for instance can cost you A$5000, as can taking a rock, stick or flower. However, burying a body costs only A$2500.
The aborigines consider the rock a sacred site and prefer you not to climb it, which at 28C and gusting wind was OK. It took me a couple hours to walk around it and got some nice photos.
In Kata Tjuta (Kings canyon), Lenny (our guide) pointed out a cliff and said, “see, that looks like an elephant with a trunk.” I don’t think I have ever been near a mountain, valley or canyon that didn’t have a cliff that looked like an elephant with its trunk.
The third day most of the group headed back, the rest of us, with a new guide, Matt, went to Palm valley and Glen Helen Gorge. Both were wonderful hikes with long cool swims at the end. Matt referred to the water as “spanner” (wrench) water, because you jump in and it tightens your nuts. Oh, those Aussies!
Glen Helen Resort was a pub with a 2-piece band. Matt sat in to sing a couple standards, the girl at the bar hit on me, and another member of our group seemed to be doing all right with the cook. It was that kind of place.
What follows is the story of the song “Waltzing Matilda” I recorded it so it’s pretty much verbatim, as told by Matt: “In the middle of the 19th century, Ukrainians, Germans, Poles, Russians, coming over here, seeking their fame and fortune, mostly in the gold rushes, but also in the pastureism <sic>, and it was the Germans, in particular ex-German soldiers, that used to have very long leather coats, not very good obviously for the long Australian summers. They used to dry out and crack, [so they] used to put oil on them to keep them supple and keep [them] from drying out, and instead of wearing them, what they would do is they would put all their personal possessions into them, roll them up, sling it them over their shoulder, then they could go from job to job, but at nighttime when it used to get cold, they could get underneath their coats and curl up and it would keep them warm, and slightly water proof as well.”
“Well [what] the Germans called these coats came from the same name that was given to German prostitutes. The German soldiers were away at war and [when] they needed a little bit of. Comfort at night, they went to the red light in the window, that woman that they would go and see was known to the Germans’ as a Matilda. Somebody that would give you comfort when you were away from home. The Germans that came over here for jobs used to joke that their leather coats were their only comfort that they had at night, so of course the coats also became known as their Matilda.”
“And of course Banjo Patterson, the famous poet, author, song writer came up with Waltzing Matilda based on the German fellow’s, picking up their leather coats, waltzing your Matilda through the bush, waltzing from one job to the other.”
Back in Alice Springs I got a "free " meal with my tour. Half way through my spaghetti the DJ started force-feeding fun to the crowd; actually compelling people to participate in a Limbo contest. Maybe it was my grizzled scowl, or that I raised my fork like a Picador whenever he looked my way, but he did keep a discrete distance. When I was in my twenties and traveling around, the Limbo was not that popular, for that matter, we generally considered it pretty lame. However, on this trip, almost every place that backpackers gathered, the limbo, or some variation -- like “cross-dressed Limbo”--, was high on the evening’s agenda. That brings up another recurring theme: cross-dressing. Am I out of touch with youth, or is this an Australian thing? I guess that would explain why those obviously very tough guys playing Australian Rules football still wear those incredibly gay looking uniforms.

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