Bad Vibes at Australia’s Uluru: Day 46 on the Road

From the Archives: Australia 2002

The story below is an excerpt from my handwritten daily diaries, which I scribbled during my first adventure across Australia from October to December 2002. Group tours, outback sunsets, and plenty of drama—some things never change!

New Faces, Old Drama

It’s day 46 of my Sydney-to-Sydney adventure, and our little group of pseudo-bagpacking folks between the ages of 24 and 40 has finally reached the legendary Uluru. Our numbers have changed along the way—two new passengers joined us in Darwin and will stay with us until Adelaide. At the same time, in Alice Springs, we tearfully said goodbye to two English girls after what can only be described as peak “Zickenalarm” (girl drama).

Sunset at Uluru: Not Quite What I Expected

Our first stop: a classic Uluru sundowner. Honestly, the whole experience feels a bit strange. We’re far from alone—several other groups are here, too, all knocking back drinks as the sun dips behind the famous rock. Our backpacker corner has, to be honest, less-than-stellar views. The best spots are reserved for the guests of the nearby five-star hotel, Sails of the Desert, who sip expensive champagne at white-clothed bistro tables that the hotel carts out daily.

Meanwhile, we’re sitting on the ground, swigging whatever the last bottleshop had to offer—straight from the bottle or a can. We’re careful not to leave any trash behind; after all, this is the Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park. The rules are strict, and breaking them can result in fines of thousands of dollars. The park is only open from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m.—there’s no sneaking in for a sunrise or sunset outside those hours.

To Climb or Not to Climb?

Tomorrow, some members of our group plan to climb Uluru. I’m not into it. For one, the rock is a sacred site for the local Aboriginal people, and they’ve asked visitors not to climb it. And let’s be real—it’s scorching hot, and hiking up a giant rock in this heat sounds, frankly, idiotic. Plus, what’s the point? If you’re on top of Uluru, you can’t see Uluru. The best view is from the ground.

Instead, I decide to walk the nine-kilometer trail around the base. I set off early before the day turned into a scorching heatwave. The walk is super easy and surprisingly varied, and I hardly see another soul—maybe everyone else is busy climbing. I love the solitude. The rock itself is way more interesting up close: full of curves, crevices, and surprises around every corner.

The colors are stunning—the sky is a deep blue, the paths are rust-red, edged with dry grass, and here and there, a flash of green from an eucalyptus tree. At the center, Uluru rises to a height of 350 meters above the Outback, although most of the rock is hidden beneath the surface.

Learning from the Locals

In the afternoon, we meet an Aboriginal guide at the Uluru Visitor Centre. She’s showing us ancient rock art and sharing stories from their mythology. We even get to take a group photo with her—a rare treat. However, she asked us to promise not to publish the photo with her, as it would respect their belief that it would bring bad karma to them, to the extent that some tribes believe one is stealing their souls by taking a photo at all.

Later, we head out together to Kata Tjuta (also known as the Olgas), another mind-blowing rock formation nearby.

When Group Travel Gets Messy

Unfortunately, the mood in our group isn’t quite what it was back on day one in Sydney. Forty-six days together feels like a lifetime, and after being stuck with each other 24/7, everyone’s quirks are on full display. Minor arguments are inevitable, but things only got complicated when a brief fling between our driver and the tour leader went sideways. It all blew up somewhere in the Outback—one wanted to keep things going, the other didn’t. Now, the fallout has soured the group atmosphere, especially since their romance broke company rules. In a small two-person business, where both are friends of the owner, drama is almost unavoidable. To make matters worse, our driver, a teacher filling in as a favor, sometimes forgets he’s not a paying guest.

I can’t help but think I’d avoid all this drama if I traveled solo—but then again, it would cost a lot more, and I’d probably learn less about the country. I’m not too bothered, but I suppose group dynamics affect people differently.

Have you ever experienced something like this? I’d really like to hear about it! Just leave a message in the comment section below.