“This is it! We are on a pilgrimage, the Australian way”
I excited 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 getting back 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 came back 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 give it a visit, even if just by myself, but at the last minute, Jik joined in.
Hence our conversation in the airport waiting lounge above. Four hours later, we reached the small airport of Ayers Rock and hopped into the resort bus immediately afterwards.
Uluru was magnificent! I can’t explain the attraction of a huge rock. I came prepared that travelling to see a rock, one stone, might be a little over-kill, 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.