Uluru Our Australian Pilgrimage

“Uluru! This is it! We are on a pilgrimage, the Australian way”

I excitedly told Jik at the airport while waiting for our flight to Ayers Rocks. She stared back at me as if I had lost it before returning to her laptop screen. It has become a routine, pretty much how we usually start our girl trips, with me saying some absurd things and her ignoring it. But this time, I was serious. We were going to Uluru!

I feel like Uluru called me.

The first time it caught my attention was in a bookstore in New Zealand, of all places. Once we returned home, I mulled over visiting Uluru for a while, forgetting about it for some time, before being called again by the mystical rock. This time, by a blog post. I decided to visit it, even if just by myself, but at the last minute, Jik agreed to join the adventure.

Hence the above conversation in the Sydney airport. Four hours later, we reached the small airport of Ayers Rock and hopped into the resort bus immediately afterwards.

I can’t explain the attraction to the massive reddish rock. I came prepared that travelling to see a rock, one stone, might be a little overkill, but that mental preparation wasn’t required after all. I was all teary-eyed when I saw a glimpse of Uluru from the plane earlier.

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