We rolled up to Devil’s Marbles in the heat of the afternoon, the sun high and hot, the gravel parking lot kicking up dust with every step. Too hot to unpack. Too hot to clamber over the enormous stands of neatly stacked, smooth-edged boulders. Too far from Alice Springs to move on.

There was a little breeze, a few roofed camping platforms, so we parked ourselves beneath one while the ’79 Holden Gemini baked out in the sun.