A Town Called Alice

I bet the title of this blog hasn't been used before. I was actually giggling to myself as I typed it and am still smiling at my cleverness. Not original? Well it's better than my first title  'Alice? Where the F*ck is Alice?'

Having said that, although somewhat linguistically challenged, my first option was probably more geographically accurate. I sort of knew that Alice Springs was in the middle of nowhere, but you can't really know until you travel here. We took the easy option, a flight from Cairns, but the journey is nevertheless a reminder of just how remote this town is. Soon the lushness of the coastal rainforest gave way to pasture and within moments any thought of greenery was forgotten in exchange for miles and miles of desert. Nothing, save for a few small buildings and then barren, sun-scorched and scarred red earth between civilisation as far as the eye could see. And that's pretty far from the vantage point of 20,000 feet. At nearly 1,500km to the nearest city it's geographically pretty much in the dead centre of Australia yet with a population of around 28,000 is the third largest urban area in the Northern Territories. 

To get a real sense of the sparseness of this part of Australia, and by association Alice Springs, just dwell on this fact for a little while; the total area of the Northern Territories is a little over 1,300,000 square kilometres yet the total population is a mere 244,000. Or to put it in perspective, that's roughly the population of Newcastle living in an area twice the size of France. (Mind you, even with all that space, the Geordies would still manage to find someone to pick a fight with). Or to put I another way, it's mind bogglingly big and no bugger lives here.

After spending a few hours in Alice, as it's affectionately known, it's not hard to see why. The nearest-to-home example I can give is that it reminds a me a little of Thornaby on Teesside. But with more sun. Lots of sun. Except if you wanted to escape Thornaby the A66 would get you somewhere else within an hour. Faced with a 24 hour drive you'd have to really want to leave Alice, and have the wherewithal to cross nearly 1,000km of desert.

Add to that the sheer harshness of the climate and its inhabitants. With highs around 40 degree Celsius in the summer yet plunging to barely above freezing picking clothes for a night on the town is nigh on impossible. The body says shorts and t-shirt whilst the head screams thermals and a good woolly dut. If that wasn't enough, add venomous snakes into the mix and you've got one hell of a night out. 

Everything looks just a little rundown and on it's heels. A bit municipal if you like, but not in a good way. It feels Ike it could do with a good douse of rain to give it a bit of a clean, but with an average of only 11 inches of rain per year it's not going to happen anytime soon.

That's not to say it's not without its charms. There are a few good museums dotted around town, some nice cafes and bars selling super cold beer. But these are the the oases in the desert, to use a relevant metaphor. 

For most, as it is with us, Alice is a mere staging point to other parts of the territory. A stepping stone in the desert and an opportunity to restock and refuel before pushing on further into the interior. And so it is with us. 

Tomorrow we pick up a tour and head into the unknown... well further into the desert anyway, for tomorrow we'll dine under the stars with Uluru (Ayers Rock) as our backdrop. At least that's what the blurb on the brochure says. As we've found out for ourselves on this trip, don't take anything for granted, assume nothing and she'll be right.