Over the hump to Uluru

By HEATHER RAMSAY

Whether you're an early bird or a night owl, you'll miss some shut-eye in Central Australia. In the red centre they like to do things early - or late. If it's not helicopters, Harleys or camels at sunrise, it's starlight and firelight dinners in the dark of night.

I love a lie-in, but I was booked on a sunrise camel safari, with a wake-up call of 5.15am. Winter mornings in the heart of Australia are dark and cold, so faces muffled by hoods and scarves glowed ghostly in the dim light of the shuttle bus interior on our way to meet the camels. Seated in a cat-like crouch, with faces as rubbery and malleable as Mr Bean, they chewed contentedly on their cud. Big brown eyes regarded us with curiosity and disdain.

These three-stomached beasts emit a fair amount of gas when they regurgitate and re-chew their food, so a definite odour laced the crisp air. Fortunately, like all well-behaved Australian blokes (they were all males, bar one), they kept their belching and burping to a minimum.

Safely attired in disposable hairnets and helmets, we advanced on to our waiting beasts of burden. They were roped together in a seated line, and our guide Mel warned us not to kick the following camel in the face as we swung a leg over the saddle. Whoops! My errant foot gave the rope attached to the nose-peg a darned good tug.

Mel added that camels have a good memory, and handed me a "mooshing" stick. No one else got a stick, and then I caught the names of the camels at the rear - Simpson, Sandy and Gibson, all named after Australian deserts, and behind me, Moosha. Uh-oh.

There's a belief that camels store water in their hump (these were dromedaries, the one-humped camel) but the hump is actually made of fat reserves that help them to survive food shortages and drought. In tough times when the reserves get used up, the hump appears deflated and floppy.

When we set off, the land was still swathed in darkness, but dawn dreamed faintly on the horizon. Our surefooted, two-toed mounts padded along sand trails through spinifex and mulga scrub and as the sky lightened the fluted whistle of butcher birds floated from spindly desert oaks.

A dingo with ears pricked watched the early morning intruders intently before slinking into the scrub. Moments later a mournful howling rent the air as the pack announced that sunrise was imminent.

From our vantage point atop a low dune, flat land swept away in every direction, interrupted only by the bulky body of Uluru (Ayers Rock), and the many heads of Kata Tjuta (The Olgas).

Sunrise was sudden and spectacular. First the big rocks were dusted with soft shades of gold, purple and pink and when the sun heaved itself fully over the horizon they were cast into sharp red relief against a glorious winter sky.

Sunrise was a cue for our camels to show their true colours. Moosha, the only blond camel, sidled alongside. I gave him a friendly scratch on the head, and he responded by rudely ripping a mouthful of sheepskin from my saddle blanket. After a few taps with my stick he was content to dive for every low acacia bush in sight.

My mount began to crowd the camel ahead, and I reckon he knew that a dental conference was being held in town.

"Look at those teeth!" exclaimed the orthodontist in front when he spied the mouthful of protruding yellow tombstones grinning alongside his leg. "I should give him my card."

Back at base, piping hot billy tea and warm beer bread dripping with butter and jam were consumed as we browsed displays outlining the physiology of camels, and their history in Australia.

Camels were introduced in the mid-1800s and, along with the Afghani cameleers, they played an important role in the exploration and settlement of the arid interior. A feral population was established when unwanted camels were turned loose and today there are around half a million wild camels.

Ironically, Australian camel meat and live camels are now exported to the Middle East, with spin-offs from the industry being camel oil and products made from camel leather and wool.

I was dropped off at my hotel (appropriately called The Lost Camel) around the time I'd normally be rising. The rumpled bed was tempting, but I had to resist. A rendezvous with a Harley and helicopter waited, followed by a dinner date with an astronomer under the desert stars.



HOW TO GET THERE

Qantas has flights from Auckland to Ayers Rock via Sydney and Melbourne. Prices start at $975 return. There are also flights from Cairns, Perth and Alice Springs.

WHEN TO GO

Winter means cool, cloudless days and crisp clear nights. Average winter minimum is 4.8C, maximum 20C. Summer daytime temperatures range from 36 to 48C, nights from 18 to 24C.

WHERE TO STAY

Accommodation is at Ayers Rock Resort (Yulara). It ranges from camping and cabins to the exclusive desert retreat, Longitude 131, with mid-range, self-contained and five-star options in between.

THINGS TO DO

Walks, camel rides, wildlife spotting, Harley and helicopter rides, starlight dinners. Check out the Voyages website for a full list of options.


* Heather Ramsay was a guest of Tourism Australia and Qantas.