I set out on a Contiki trek called "Alice and Wonderland" with specific goals in mind. I wanted to absorb the majesty of Uluru (Ayers Rock) and feel the bush landscape, the Outback, as though it was my internal landscape, my veins, my blood. That was the easy part; the hard part was to do so with two dozen strangers. The challenge of turning a trip into a unique personal journey was compounded by the nature of the tour itself: A Group Tour - the same people twenty-four hours a day for eight days. Little time for reflection, less for peace of mind. The theory behind Contiki's mission is simple: get a bunch of young people (aged 18 - 35) from all over the world and put them together on a bus that takes them to some of the world's most exciting places. Great idea, but as always, easier said than done.

Our guide and driver, Miles (nicknamed "Kilometers" by some of us) announced that the bus-ride was going to be about six hours on one of the days leading up to our final destination - Uluru. There were the usual moans and groans. But I thought to myself, what better way to see the Outback - six uninterrupted hours to burn the image of the vast bush landscape into my memory. Those six hours scrunched alongside seventeen other hot, tired travelers ended up being some of the best alone time I had the entire trip. Blocking out the chatter, music and road noise, I sat absorbed and silent, studying the landscape; a vast rust-colored sand desert covered with spiny tufts of pale green and gold spinnaker grass, sparsely connected by stunted gum trees, their white trunks stunningly bright against the blue expanse of sky and red rock outcroppings. Traversing the Outback's distances was a pleasure in Contiki's odd vehicle. An innovative marriage of school bus and luxury coach mounted on an impressive four-wheel drive chassis, the uni-mog was our home for eight days. Except for freezing cold nights in our two-man tents, and the days we spent hiking, all of our time was spent on the bus. We got to know it well. The jerky suspension and non-adjustable bucket seats were never enough to dampen our spirits, especially when our guide broke the monotony of the journeys by involving us all in guessing games, face-painting and betting on arrival times. It's amazing how self-effacing the Aussies can be, and how good they are at taking the piss out of the British.

My Contiki companions proved somewhat of a motley crew: the Californians (myself included), New Yorkers, Canadians, and Aussies all got along famously. We tried for the longest Frisbee toss in history one day while hiking in Palm valley.

The morning Miles woke us with Robin Williams' hyperactive screams, he was rousing us not because of his sadistic tour-leader mentality, but in order to catch a hot-air balloon ride before sunrise. It was a short ride to an open field in total darkness, all of us shivering the entire way. The balloon material was laid out along the field and unfurled by three Aussies in yellow jumpsuits. They asked for a couple of volunteers, and I, ever ready to experience something new, raised my ice-cold hand. I was instructed to hold open the base of the balloon while they inflated it - a nice warm job, I thought, envisioning the gas jets used to heat the air. Little did I know the balloon had to be inflated with cold air first for risk of the material catching fire. The jumpsuit-clad Aussie returned with an industrial fan, four feet in diameter, placed it behind me and turned it on full blast. Now I'm not sure exactly how to calculate wind chill factor, but considering it was about 34 degrees Fahrenheit in the darkness of the sunless desert before the introduction of the gale-force fan, I'm able to say without exaggeration that this was a "learning experience." (I have since stopped volunteering quite so blithely.)

Eventually the gas was turned on and everyone jockeyed for position warming their hands and behinds in the glow of the flame as the balloon began to swell, rising from the ground like bread baking in an oven. The balloon filled quickly once the gas was on and we all clambered in, our faces aglow under the flame. Takeoff is an effortless procedure and we soon found ourselves over 300 feet off the ground, the sun slowly rising behind us, gently illuminating the red landscape below. We were all happy to see the sun - more for her warmth, to be honest, than anything else, but the scene was inspiringly beautiful. None of the eight people in our sturdy wicker basket said a word as the sun rose over the horizon. The amazing thing about being in a balloon, as opposed to any other form of flight, is the silence. Unless someone is talking, or the gas jets are turned on, there is no sound. In a Zen-like way, silence is its own presence, and dominates the sky.

Contiki offers the Alice & Wonderland tour for $ 349.00
(price does not cover airfare through Alice Springs, where the tour starts)