I kept putting Uluru off … I wish I hadn’t waited so long.

Australian Icon meets Australian Icon: Former Home and Away star Lynne McGranger travels to Uluru – and it was life-changing

What surprised me most about Uluru wasn’t its size, or beauty, or colour – it was how welcome it made me feel.

That feeling began on our very first evening – sitting with our picnic baskets out in the desert, we watched the sun drop behind Uluṟu and the lights of Wintjiri Wiṟu unfold before us. There we were, passing around beautiful food, and watching and listening to stories that’ve been passed down over thousands of years.

I’d never seen anything like it in my life. Honestly, there aren’t enough superlatives for Uluṟu. It’s life-affirming, it’s magical, it’s memorable, all of those things. And grounding. That’s the word that kept coming back to me – grounding.

Hearing those ancient stories, in that place, on Aṉangu Country, made me feel unexpectedly emotional; as though we weren’t simply visitors passing through, but friends invited in to listen. We all felt so welcome, so included – like we were allowed to be there, and be part of it all.

The truth is, Uluṟu had always been somewhere I meant to visit. Like many Australians, I talked about it as something I would get to “one day”. But even after finishing up on Home and Away, life didn’t slow down the way I imagined it might. There were plays to rehearse, tours to complete, TV shows to film – Belgium, Norway, Ireland, the UK. One thing rolled into the next and before I knew it, months had slipped by.

Looking back now, I realise how easy it is to keep putting something like Uluṟu off. But some places absolutely need to be experienced while you still have the chance. So Paul and I invited our friends Kerrie and Mark, who’d never been either, and the four of us made the trip to Uluṟu over the Easter long weekend.

Walking around the base of Uluṟu turned out to be one of the most powerful parts of the trip. Up close, the rock is far more intricate than photographs ever capture. There are caves and curves and textures everywhere you look. At one point, we even spotted a goanna digging madly in the sand. We stood near waterholes, saw ancient cave paintings, and listened as our guide shared stories about Aṉangu – the Traditional Owners of Uluṟu – and their connection to the land.

There were so many things I realised I didn’t know. That some areas must not be photographed because they’re sacred. That stories are passed from generation to generation – never written, but spoken and remembered. Just learning that alone was fascinating to me. Standing there, with Uluṟu towering above us, I felt honoured to be learning even a small part of that history.

And then there were the colours. I don’t think anything quite prepared me for the way Uluṟu changes throughout the day. Particularly at sunrise and sunset, the colours are breathtaking. One moment it’s deep red, then suddenly there are flashes of orange, purple and pink working their way across the surface.

One of the quieter experiences for us was the Field of Light. We arrived as the sun was setting, canapés in hand, and watched as thousands of lights gradually flickered on through the desert. It’s undeniably beautiful and clever, and if I had one piece of advice for anyone planning a visit, I would suggest seeing the Field of Light early in your trip if you can. It feels like a lovely introduction – a delicious entrée to everything that follows.

For Sunrise Journeys we gathered early, wrapped in rugs against the cold and enjoyed hot drinks and things like little croissants with smoked kangaroo, while projections and artwork lit up the desert as the sun rose. What struck me most was how naturally everything worked alongside Uluṟu itself. Nothing clashed with what was already happening in the landscape, it just enhanced it.

And then there was Tali Wiṟu – the famous “posh dinner” some Irish friends had insisted we try. Sitting down to amuse-bouche and toothfish and cheeseboards, while hearing stories about the night sky in the middle of the desert felt surreal. I find it hilarious how we climbed the sand dunes in our galumphy shoes, then sat down to this beautifully presented meal. Honestly, my phone is full of  food photos from that night. Asking me to pick a favourite dish would be like asking me to pick a favourite child.

Everywhere we went, we were met with warmth and kindness. The more time we spent there, the more that early feeling of welcome stayed with me. Listening, learning and taking it all in changed the way I looked at the place, and at Australia more broadly. There was something spiritual about it – we all just felt a real connection.

It made me appreciate how much depth and history we have in our own backyard. So many of us dream about travelling overseas while something as powerful as Uluṟu sits right here at home.

If there’s one thing I would say to Australians – especially those of us who are getting older – it’s this: please, please don’t keep putting it off.

While your legs are still working, while you can still feel the red earth beneath your feet and appreciate the beauty of a sunrise, go and experience it.

You can read about Uluṟu and look at photographs until the cows come home, but none of it compares to standing there yourself and taking it all in.

Visiting Uluṟu and experiencing Aṉangu culture surprised and delighted me in ways I never imagined. I could have stayed another week as there was so much more to do.

And I’d go back again in a heartbeat.

Don’t wait for “one day” – just go.