Kings Creek Station & Kings Canyon — Two Nights in the Red Centre

We spent two nights at Kings Creek Station, a working cattle and camel station set among desert oaks about 36 kilometres from Kings Canyon. Ian and Lyn Conway established it in 1981, on land that started with no water, no power and no buildings — which makes the place it has become feel slightly improbable. The domesticated camels at the station were a real highlight for me: gentle, curious, oddly serene animals. I found myself hoping, genuinely, that they are happy and well looked after. I won't look away from the harder part, though. Kings Creek Station is the largest exporter of wild camels in Australia, and it sells camels for live export and for meat — the famous camel burger is on every menu and review of the place. We don't eat meat, so we passed. I can hold both things at once: gratitude for meeting these animals, and discomfort about the system they exist within. It felt more honest to say that than to leave it out.

The wider landscape gave us nothing but awe. The station's other camels are essentially wild, ranging freely across the property and going days without water, and we were lucky enough to spot a couple of them out in the scrub — a completely different feeling from meeting one up close. The sunset, too: we walked up to the lookout on the hill behind the campsite and watched the whole George Gill Range turn through umber and pink and gold, the kind of sky that makes you stop talking. From there we drove out to Watarrka National Park, where Kings Canyon waits at the western end of the range. The canyon walls rise over 100 metres, with Kings Creek running along the bottom, and the Luritja people have lived in this country for at least 20,000 years — parts of the gorge are sacred sites, something you feel even before you read the signs. We walked the rim, and standing up there, looking out over that ancient, folded landscape, the whole trip arranged itself into one of those memories you already know you will keep.