Beatrix pottering: Swimming with dragonflies, walking in light

One way we can tell we're in Australia is the size and quantity of the insects: there are ants in the bath, earwigs in the sink, a spider on the ceiling and various sizes of beetle along the skirting, as well as the 11 mossies I killed before bed last night (and we still all got bitten). And some of them are huge: on our way to the pool this morning (it was less hot today, so we braved an air-conditioning-less excursion), Jemima and I had to wait until a huge wasp/ bee thing flew away before we could walk on; and we were joined in the pool by the biggest dragonflies I've ever seen: blue and yellow striped bodies, scudding around us at high speed in either a mating dance or rivals fight, unafraid (one landed on Jemima's hat). We had a lovely time: Portugal hot, rather than desert hot, and a temperate pool rather than icy, we splashed and frolicked happily.

Then after a quiet afternoon, and an early dinner, it was our other big event: the Field of Light. This was an installation by UK artist Bruce Munroe, inspired by his trip here in 1992: a sprawling area the size of seven football fields at the base of the Rock, sprinkled with 50,000 glowing frosted glass balls on stalks at about knee height, bobbing in the wind and changing colour in waves. We were dropped off by the coach, walked down the lit pathways into the middle, and it was beautiful, and strangely moving: lights all around: ground level waving ones of blue/ green/ red; and sky level fixed ones of white, including galaxy clouds, with a huge yellow moon visibly rising on the horizon. (It was better being in it than seeing it from the higher ground viewpoint; there, the stars were more impressive than the lights, so many more than you ever see normally.) A wonderful sight, and I feel lucky to have seen it.

And that's it for our Ayers Rock experience. Out of the desert and into the humid tropics tomorrow.