Richard Flynn :: no comment

I love a sunburnt country,
A land of sweeping plains,
Of ragged mountain ranges,
Of droughts and flooding rains.
I love her far horizons,
I love her jewel-sea,
Her beauty and her terror—
The wide brown land for me!

—from 'My Country' (1890/1911),
by Dorothea Mackellar (1885–1968)

When it comes to the Outback, Dorothea Mackellar had it right: it's a place of stark contrasts. The tourism phrase 'Red Centre', which has now entered common parlance, doesn't quite do the Central Australian terrain justice—I came expecting a land of endless red rock but instead found greens, greys, browns, and yellows to complement the reds. Then there are all the different shades of red—only to be expected, perhaps—such that some are far more accurately described as 'grey' or 'brown' than truly 'red'.

One example of the multiple shades of red has become something of a travellers' cliché: the stone of Ayers' Rock changes colour as the sun sets; however it's only a cliché because it's patently true. Similarly, the rock-face at Rainbow Valley suddenly comes alive with colour (thus justifying the location's name) as it catches the light of the setting sun. I'm sure that the same phenomenon occurs at most, if not all, of the remarkable geological formations dotted around Central Australia. That a single location should offer so much brightly-hued opportunity is the colour photographer's fantasy, and a good reward for making the effort to trek into the Outback.

Another contrast I quickly noticed during our tour of the Central Australian Outback was how some places are enormously touristed, while others are not. After spending a night at Rainbow Valley with a few other travellers dotted around the camp-ground (the tents and camper-vans were all quietly disassembled in the morning as everyone drove off), it was something of a shock to the system to arrive the following evening at Yulara, the purpose-built 'tourist village' which is the sole accommodation for those visiting Uluru–Kata Tjuta National Park. Photographing the Rock at sunset—from the confines of the strictly-controlled 'sunset viewing area', naturally—we were surrounded by people glad to have 'made it' to the best-advertised feature of the Australian Outback. Voices in every language piped up all around us as people talked not only to one another but to friends and family on the other end of their mobile phones—after a trip along the rural highways, the phones' owners were overjoyed to discover that the cellular network companies had thoughtfully installed service in and around the National Park.

After the relative hubbub of Yulara, it was a shock again to spend the following night at a former cattle station—Old Angas Downs—which has been deserted probably since the 1970s, where we were the only people for miles around. Some might say that our time at Old Angas Downs is an experience of the 'true' Outback, but that point of view seems to deny that there be some reason for the fact that tourists flock to the well known places like Ayers' Rock or King's Canyon: these places are particularly remarkable natural wonders which stand out in a world which increasingly venerates a parade of the man-made.

Central Australia is justifiably described as 'arid', but that doesn't mean that there's not a drop of water to be seen. On our final night we stayed at Boggy Hole in the Finke Gorge National Park, which is a permanent water-hole in the Outback. Up until then during our tour we had seen nothing like the tall reeds, green trees, and soft grass which result from the ever-present water supply. Of course, when the Finke River floods, it tends to do so with gusto, and the waters leave in their trail a scattered collection of uprooted trees and broken branches.

We were particularly fortunate with the weather during the trip. I'd chosen to go to Central Australia in the middle of winter principally because that was when I could afford the time; however, I would have thought twice (if not more) if I'd only been available in the summer. The first night was quite cold, but apart from that we enjoyed fairly mild nights (no need for the hat, scarf, and gloves I'd dutifully brought with me!) and days which the sun warmed to a comfortable 68°F/20°C or so. We also had the luck of dappled cloud-cover during much of the trip, which not only served to alter the quality of the light, but also to add interest to what might otherwise be some familiar photographs of the well-worn tourist spots: the clouds were of course thanks to the presence on the trip of Helen-the-cloud-bringer.

On the night at Boggy Hole, however, no cloud could be seen, and I took the opportunity to capture the movement of the stars overhead over the course of two hours. Star-trail photography is something I had never previously considered, let alone tried, but we had been discussing the techniques involved on and off for the whole tour. It was quite satisfying, therefore, to give the effect a go!

I got home from the trip exhausted but invigorated, and found that a layer of red dust had somehow permeated my shoes, bag, and clothes. I'm still shaking the dust out of one pair of shoes three months later! I also had more than a thousand photos to process on the computer. After doing all that, though, I've been left with an impressive collection of images which I hope go some way to giving a sense of the awesome wonder of the Outback.

I took part in a 'Vivid Red Centre' tour with Vivid Adventures, from 27th July to 1st August 2007. You can see my album of photos from the Outback photo tour here. You can also see photos taken on the tour by Helen Osler elsewhere on the Web.