Uluru

Where it sits. Uluru stands in Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park in the southern Northern Territory, 335 kilometres south-west of Alice Springs and 17 kilometres by road from the resort town of Yulara, which exists solely to service it. The monolith rises 348 metres above the surrounding sandplain to an elevation of 863 metres, and its base circumference is 9.4 kilometres. Kata Tjuta, the domed formation also called the Olgas, lies 40 kilometres west and is taller. What photographs never convey is how little of Uluru is visible: the formation continues underground for several kilometres, and the visible rock is the eroded tip of a steeply tilted bed.

What it is made of. Uluru is arkose, a coarse sandstone unusually rich in feldspar, deposited from an alluvial fan around 550 to 530 million years ago and then folded almost vertical during the Petermann Orogeny. The feldspar is grey; the famous red is a surface skin of iron oxide, essentially rust, a few millimetres thick. Where slabs have flaked away the fresh rock underneath shows grey. The colour changes at dawn and dusk are a straightforward function of atmospheric scattering — at low sun angles the blue end of the spectrum is filtered out and the iron oxide returns almost pure red — but the speed of the transition, ten or fifteen minutes, still surprises first-time visitors.

The people and the handback. The Anangu, Pitjantjatjara and Yankunytjatjara people, are the traditional owners, and their association with this country is continuous and very long. Title was returned to them on 26 October 1985, immediately leased back to the Commonwealth for 99 years under joint management — a landmark in Australian land rights. The park was inscribed on the World Heritage list in 1987 for its natural values and relisted in 1994 for its cultural landscape, one of relatively few sites to hold both. On 1 November 2017 the park board voted unanimously to end the climb, which Anangu had long asked visitors not to make; the ban took effect on 26 October 2019, the thirty-fourth anniversary of the handback, and the chain was removed from the face.

On screen. Uluru appears constantly in aerial establishing shots of Australia, but its most consequential screen history concerns what was not filmed there. The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert (1994) planned its climactic drag ascent at the rock and was refused permission on religious grounds; the production relocated to Kings Canyon, 300 kilometres north-east, and the film is better for it. Evil Angels (1988, released internationally as A Cry in the Dark), Fred Schepisi's account of the disappearance of nine-week-old Azaria Chamberlain from a campsite at the base of the rock in August 1980 and the wrongful conviction of her mother Lindy, worked at Uluru and made the place a character in a real Australian miscarriage of justice. Photography restrictions still apply at specified sacred sites around the base, and commercial shooting requires a permit — signs mark the sections where cameras must be put away, and the request is worth respecting.

What you actually see today. The 10.6-kilometre Uluru Base Walk is flat, well surfaced and the single best thing to do here; it takes three to four hours and reveals what the distant view hides — caves, waterholes, ribbed flanks, rock art in ochre and charcoal at the Mutitjulu Waterhole, and the sheer, echoing amphitheatre of Kantju Gorge, which is at its most striking in the last hour of daylight. The Cultural Centre near the base explains Tjukurpa, the Anangu law and knowledge system that gives the rock its meaning. Sunrise and sunset viewing areas are formalised, sealed and separate for cars and coaches. Bruce Munro's Field of Light, an installation of more than 50,000 fibre-optic stems on the sandplain near Yulara, has run since 2016 and been extended repeatedly.

Getting there and timing. Connellan Airport at Yulara takes direct flights from Sydney, Melbourne, Brisbane and Cairns; the drive from Alice Springs takes about four and a half hours on sealed road. A three-day park pass is required and is checked at the entry station. May to September brings daytime highs in the twenties and nights near freezing; December to February exceeds 40°C and the base walk closes in the middle of the day. Flies are relentless from September to November — a head net costs a few dollars and is worth every cent.