I remembered Uluru, of course I did. I remembered drinking champagne while watching the colors change at sunset, and a different tour group accusing me of having stolen one of their folding chairs. I remembered that it was very, very hot. I remembered the beautiful waterhole, how magical it felt finding water in that dry, dry country.
And the flies. I definitely remembered the flies, and the nets we wore so they weren't crawling directly on our faces.
But I'd forgotten all the curves and undulations of the rock formations when you get up close, so that what looks like a sandstone cake with drippy icing from a distance is so much more complicated and beautiful than you expected.
And the flies. I definitely remembered the flies, and the nets we wore so they weren't crawling directly on our faces.
But I'd forgotten all the curves and undulations of the rock formations when you get up close, so that what looks like a sandstone cake with drippy icing from a distance is so much more complicated and beautiful than you expected.
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