Wilpena.
Wilpena Pound, Southern Austraila
You turn left off the road onto a dirt track at the sign which says “Airstrip”. Sure enough, you can see a small plane at the end of the track. A plane, a hut, and not much else.
Welcome to Wilpena Airways.
We park the 4x4 and the door slams seem to echo around the hills. It’s early. We disturb some magpies and gallahs. Far-off, an emu or two mind their own business.
“G’day. You guys here to fly?” Michael (another Michael, no relation to Sunset Michael) shakes our hands. He’s dressed very smart for such a hot day already. He’s in full pilot’s uniform: crisp white shirt with epaulettes, tie, his sleeves rolled to the elbow; smart black trousers; Aviator sunglasses. He looks the part of a young pilot. I’m reminded of Leo DiCaprio in Catch Me If You Can (...ie he looks about 14).
We’re on a Scenic Flight. You see the posters and the signs everywhere around the Flinders advertising Scenic Flights. Short – one, two hour – flights in light aircraft, which give travellers a bird’s eye view of these magnificent mountains, and the geological phenomenon that is Wilpena Pound, in particular.
Pilots like Michael do the Scenics to clock up their hours. It must be a hell of a job, but I suppose someone has to do it ...
After a short safety-briefing we’re strapped in, ready for take-off. The dust spits out from under the wheels as the small Cessna heads down the airstrip, and we’re up. We’re in the shadow of Wilpena Pound in no time, and then out, high over the green and grey dusty earth. The plane banks around pushing everyone into the back of their seats, and then our collective breaths are taken away. And not by the slight turbulence you feel by crossing the ridge.
The red, jagged edges of the Pound are stunning. An oval of land lies depressed inside a bowl of red-rocks which have seemingly slid out of the earth. It is genuinely hard to describe. A kind of natural amphitheater, it reminds me of the sloping architecture of modern football stadia, but on a much grander scale, and – of course – far more beautiful. We circle the Pound for half an hour. It sounds a long time to be looking at one thing perhaps, but like any work of art the more you look, the more you see. The Pound is home to rare wildlife, fossils, and sacred Aboriginal art. Flying over is as close as most of us can get.
It’s hard to take it all in. This vast, unspoiled landscape is just so, so stunning. Far too soon, the plane banks for the last time and begins its descent towards the airstrip.
Michael lands the Cessna with a polished professional ease. We taxi back to the terminal, a corrugated hut, and jump out. I already miss being in the air.