Alice Springs is a curious sort of a place. It has real significance to some, it’s the closest this vast country has to a centre, and yet, well yet it’s got the decided feel of a place that no one stops in for long.
It’s an stop of on the way to formidable nature. There are some colourful birds, the riverbed is a vast stretch of sand waiting to be filled, and if you look down you’ll see more termites and ants than you’ve ever seen before. Columns every few metres and - to the curiosity of the behavioural biologist still within me - some even operating in what appear to be lanes, each going an opposite way across the path. Fascinating. Although it says a lot about a place when the ants are worthy of observation.
But beyond that, well my granny used to always say “if you don’t have anything nice to say, then say nothing at all.” So I guess I’ll leave it at that.
Edinburgh-dwelling, baking and food-obsessed, twenty-something adventure enthusiast. Runs on liberal amounts of coffee, cheese, cake and gin; bribable with same.
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