We met many people descending who smiled and said, ‘Ow ya goin’?’ some said, ‘It’s worth it.’ One lady mused at my tee shirt that had the words, ‘Mum went to London and all I got was this lousy tee shirt’.Read more "Trekking With the T-Team–Uluru"
Mr. B was not in a good mood as we headed for Kingoonya. He moaned, ‘Hurry! No more stops.’ Then he groaned, ‘Oooh, I’m feeling a bit seedy, you know.’
Dad frowned and glanced in his side mirror. ‘O-oh.’
In the front, Mr. B spread a detailed map over his knees and dashboard.
‘I say, ol’ chap,’ Mr. B cleared his throat, ‘where, exactly are you taking us?’
‘Mount Liebig bore,’ Dad replied.
‘Are you sure we can get there without our trusty guides?’
‘Eventually, we have the map.’
‘But, where’s the road?’
We continued our trek to Talipata Gorge where we planned to camp for a couple of days. On the way our two guides sat on the bonnet of the Land Rover and picked out the ancient track amongst the desert bushes and erosion.
One of our guides, H rapped his hand on the bonnet.
‘O-oh,’ Dad murmured, then eased the Rover to a stop.
Dad looked at his watch. ‘We have to go. Or we’ll be late.’
I raised my voice. ‘What about breakfast?’
‘Er, um, better not, if you’re flying,’ Dad said.
‘You might chunder,’ Rick laughed.
‘Hey, look at this,’ I yelled to the boys.
They stopped and turned.
‘Careful,’ Richard said.
‘Is that a snake?’ Matt asked. He raised his rifle.