My mobile phone now boasts a picture of our family posing in front of Uluru at sunset.
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It features five people who have survived living together in the confines of a campervan for one week – still smiling and happy enough to bunch up close to capture the moment.
Another snap pleases me just as much though, because it conveys the struggle of five very different individuals attempting to do something difficult together.
With about 60 seconds worth of planning in the heat of mid-afternoon, we headed off on the 11-kilometre hike around the base of Uluru.
I took my picture at about the three-kilometre mark.
Kym can be seen striding out in front, supremely confident in his girls, equipped with a very bright pink backpack loaded with campervan keys, sunscreen, cameras, water and enough small animal bag tags clipped onto the outside to make a 20-year military man remember a few choice words learnt during initial training.
Behind Kym, Yasinta is pictured keen to keep up with Daddy, but turning back as she is torn by her desire to stay with her little sister Tiani, who stands facing the rock in awe – camera in hand.
Katianna seems ignorant of all other existence.
With her straw hat firmly in place, her eyes planted on the red stony path below her, she marches on with steely determination to be annoyed about this endurance event, as she made it perfectly clear within the first kilometre that she was tired and didn’t feel capable of coping.
When Yasinta bemoaned the pain in her legs, apparently worried that they could no longer sustain the weight of her body, Tiani helpfully chimed in to explain that she didn’t know what was hurting most on her body as she was numb from the chin down.
Then she got a blood nose.
Very awkward.
I soon realised that all those darling young European girls tripping along the track only ever attempted 200 metres at a time, when their tour bus dropped them off for a little diversionary exercise.
I hoped my couple of hours walking might melt away 10 kilos of curves, but apparently it doesn’t work that way.
Especially when cold apple cider is required for recovery.
C’est la vie!
Yolande Grosser