Pillsbury Press: Uluru, November 5: Hop On Hop Off to a Solo Hike

Just like how the resort is the only game in town, the only form of "mass transit" is an overpriced Hop On Hop Off bus. Ever since our 2016 trip to Iceland when I waved to the last driver of the day as he abandoned us in the center of town. Fortunately we were within walking distance of our hotel as we still relied on our flip phones that were useless in other countries, and barely useful in the United States. I would have gladly paid a taxi driver much higher rates, but there are currently no taxi drivers in that part of Australia, even though research before I left insisted there were taxis.

On only other option was a "car hire," or rental car in American -- something we were both against doing because of the whole driving on the other side of the road thing, and the fear of wild animals darting out in front of cars. I wanted to "car hire" as in hire a driver for the day.

Hop On Hop Off it was. We bought our tickets the afternoon we arrived, before Don hurt himself, and scheduled a 7:20 am ride to the big rock, arriving in time for the 8 am daily ranger tour starting at the Maia Carpark.

To me Hop On Hop Off implies a bus that circulates picking people up and taking them to different places. This had the most frustrating schedule akin to "take it or leave it." This is the off-season, so there are four pickups a day: 4:30 am (for sunrise), 7:20 am, 10:00 am, 5:35 pm for sunset. There is an extra pick up in Uluru at 1:45 pm (three hours after the last pick up). The bus can also be used to go to Kata Tjuta (30 miles away), but that is only available at 4:25 am for sunrise, or 3:55pm for sunset. The sunset ride is only available four times a week.

I can see why renting a car is the popular option.

Admitting defeat, we committed to tickets the first afternoon when we arrived. Being an American concerned the bus would fill up, I made sure our names were on the list and stressed when I was not given a return ticket. "No worries" was all the staff could say. The phrase "no worries" was quickly losing its charm. They had the final laugh when we bought a ticket Don could not use and returns are only available seven days beforehand, even though we only bought it less than 24-hours earlier.

I wished we bought travel insurance.

Don encouraged me to go without him. Someone from the hotel got him to the medical facility next to our hotel.

No sense in both of us missing out.

At this point I was still thinking it was man-pain, so I went for the 8 am tour.

The driver cheerfully picked me up in front of the hotel and chattily drove to the Maia Carpark. The other four times a day she drives in a different order.

The ranger led tour deserves its own post. I will skip ahead.

After the tour, I had the option of walking the 10 kilometers (six miles) around the base, sticking to just the area closest to where the driver picks up, walking the 2 kilometers to the visitors center, or sitting still and waiting for the 10:45 am bus back.

10:45 am felt too soon.

1:45 pm felt too late.

As I recall, the talk was over by 9 am, a couple of kilometers away from where we started. If I took the 10:45 am bus back, I was admitting I was done for the day.

So, I walked the loop clockwise. And mostly regretted the decision almost immediately.

It is big.

It is red.

It is nearing 100 degrees.

News from Don was he saw the nurse, she gave him codeine, something for the swelling, and crutches. This is serious. Of course, I finally got that message after I started walking away from the bus stop and had no chance to catch the first bus back.

And so I kept walking. I stopped for water and a power bar. There were only a couple of water stations -- more than one would expect in a desert, less than you really want when you are in a desert. Only one bathroom. Only a couple of emergency call buttons. Many signs saying do not photograph because that part of the rock is considered sacred. The aboriginal use the rock as a teaching tool, something I learned during the ranger talk, and was reinforced the next day on the Segway tour.

As I hiked I discovered another transportation option: renting bicycles.

I saw only ten people: a Slovakian mother and daughter, an older couple, two French men. An Asian couple. A younger couple who I finished the trip with. There was very little shade. To me, the rock looked the same from all angles.

My saving grace in the 100-degree heat was there were cool-ish breezes for the most part.

One thing that surprised me was that the base route did not hug the rock as much as I expected it to. It is a respectable distance away, often with plants in-between.

I finished my flat 5 mile hike about three hours after starting (as predicted). I still had 90 minutes to wait for the next bus.

I start trying to walk to the cultural centre, but could not figure out the path. At this point I was mad at myself for not asking the last couple I saw for a ride back to the resort (where else were people going to go?), so when I saw two women out smoking, I befriended them. With much encouragement they rearranged their stuff. They were camping and had all their stuff in their small car.

Marianne and Jamie admitted right after I got in their car they were taking a "toke" and were confused about what I wanted. Jamie is a gypsy. Marianne just got her hospital degree. We agreed the best idea was for them to drop me off at the cultural center where I could get something to eat in air conditioning while I waited alongside another couple for the next bus. I opted for kangaroo stew.

The next day when we were on the Segway tour, Don was impressed I did the whole hike alone.