Culture

RIP Fake Uluru: In Memory Of Australia’s Weirdest Tourist Attraction

Tell us your fond memories of The Great Aussie Bush Camp.

by Junkee  1 August 2018
Uluru

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To some it was Leyland Brothers World, to a generation of schoolkids it was the Great Aussie Bush Camp, and to anyone who ever drove north out of Sydney, it was that weird fake Uluru on the side of the road.

Whatever you called it, we regret to inform you that last night, that big fake rock on the NSW mid-north coast burned to the ground. Yes, the 1/40th scale Uluru that created so many fond memories for thousands of Aussie kids is no more.

In honour of one of Australia’s weirdest tourist attractions, we asked some of Junkee’s writers to tell us their fondest memories of the big rock/service station/campsite/roadside toilet.

The Milk Boy

The camp at Tea Gardens, aka. Fake Uluru camp, holds lots of special memories for me.

Specifically, when we (14-year-olds!!!) were tasked with making beef stroganoff from scratch on camp stoves. Presumably because we resented being given so much responsibility and because beef stroganoff is gross, someone threw sour cream at my lactose intolerant friend and a huge food fight ensued. We got in lots of trouble.

That same camp, one of the guys in my year skolled two litres of chocolate milk and vomited everywhere. He also got in lots of trouble.

The lifelong lesson? Don’t trust 14-year-olds with unlimited amounts of dairy. There will be trouble.

— Josephine Parsons

The First Love

We went to the Great Aussie Bush Camp in the very early days of year 7. My friends re-named it the “Great Aussie Shithole”, which felt very edgy at the time.

It rained for three days straight and the much of the camp was spent inside Uluru watching movies on VHS. Somewhere along the way I struck up a flirtatious relationship with a girl, and I guess she became my one and only girlfriend. We said we “liked” each other, and when she held my hand I felt deeply uncomfortable in a way I didn’t fully understand. She dumped me three days later because I was “frigid”.

I’ll be marrying my boyfriend next year, so I guess a lot of this makes sense now.

— Rob Stott

The Wholesome Story Of Friendship

I really didn’t want to go to The Great Aussie Bush Camp. I was halfway through Year 7, and I’d just transferred schools after some relentless bullying, which culminated with a three-day camp where I pleaded with teachers to take me home — I didn’t want to do that again.

Thankfully, I didn’t — after my parents forced me to go, I had a great time. My anxieties left me after our first camp activity: tackling the mud-filled obstacle course. How can you possibly feel shy once you and your classmates swim through shoulder-height mud and around a live pig that’s four times your size?

I made friends that I still have more than 10 years later, bonding over ghost stories and cooking sausages by submerging them in soy sauce for some reason. From memory, it tastes pretty good?

— Jared Richards

The Extremely Dangerous Camp Games

I went to the Great Aussie Bush Camp in Year 8.

My Year 7 camp had prepared me for the misery that was high school camps, so I was already expecting the unidentifiable food and unhygienic sleeping conditions. The Great Aussie Bush Camp did not disappoint, but there was one highlight — the night they made us play this game that may or may not have been called Spotlight.

My memory is pretty sketchy around what the point of the game actually was, but I remember we all ran recklessly through the bush, it was pitch black and milk carton lids were involved? For one reason or another we were trying to get to The Base, but The Base was patrolled by other teenagers wielding flashlights, if they caught you with their flashlight you had to go back to the beginning and try again. I had never played Spotlight before, and although in retrospect it seems irresponsible to let 13-year-olds run around in the bush at night unsupervised. I loved it.

There was something about the freedom of running around in the middle of nowhere at night, and the thrill of the hunt that has stuck with me. As a 13-year-old I thought I was in my very own version of Survivor or The Mole, and it was brilliant.

— Chloe Gillespie

The Horror Story

A few weeks into the first term of Year 7 we were all packed onto buses and shipped to The Great Aussie Bush Camp.

On the first night we had a campfire where the staff told us the story of ‘The Doogie Brothers,’ who hated the Leyland Brothers and had made it their life’s mission to destroy them.

The story goes that when the park was built, the Doogies squatted on the land and each night would sabotage rides and facilities. The story ended with one Doogie dead and the other wanting revenge; resulting in many kids going missing, including from the last school on-site.

Naturally all of us were terrified. I suggested we steal cutlery to protect ourselves. Once we thought the staff were asleep, a small team of us headed to the kitchen (safety in numbers), broke in, stole what we could find — mostly forks — returned, and distributed them.

Obviously nothing happened. For the rest of the camp the staff were deeply confused as to why they were finding forks all over the place and why almost no one wanted to go on the safest of the rides. Top way to start high school.

— Joshua Maxwell

The Camp Crush

The Great Aussie Bush Camp had to be the coming-of-age turning point for just about every 15-year-old in the greater Sydney area.

Being a ‘princess’ even as a pubescent teen (and proudly declaring well into adulthood the only stars I sleep under are 5 stars) it was a tragically beautiful time. My year 9 mates and I talked mad shit about our pretty camp instructor, Stevie, who earned her nickname as That Bitch because she awoke us from our mosquito-ridden slumber at 7am and warned us to tone down the eyeliner.

But the most memorable experience at the GAB was my sexual awakening after the hot kayak instructor flirted (probably just doing his job) with me when I got an egg-sized lump on my shin.

‘Egg girl!’ he’d scream in delight, warming my loins and making me wish my ratbag crush Danny was listening to this too. I had to abandon my kayak partner Josi and got to spend the rest of the afternoon sharing the boat with the hunky camp instructor.

I forget his name but I’ll never forget him. RIP fake Uluru, you were an eyesore but you served our nation well as an indicator that the bus was super close to camp and we could put deodorant on again.

— April Glover