“See it under a full moon”, people said.

“See it under the stars”, implored someone else.

“See it with a thunderstorm approaching”, said the sun-soaked woman on The Prospector.

We saw it instead under a clear blue sky with the early morning sun glinting off its cracking, crystalline mocha-coloured surface. Distant mirages caused the surrounding shores to appear airborne in this place so fascinatingly eerie and desolate, only the wind and the bushflies can be heard.

After climbing the only near vantage point, my two companions made a retreat to the car, their wonder and gratitude for such an experience both sated.

I continued for a few hundred metres toward the centre of the lake, where Sir Antony Gormley’s The Salt People silently beckoned me to visit the next of their companions. That’s a trick. On the approach to the next, even more become visible in the distance, at times appearing to hover just above the lake surface.

Seduced this far, I checked my drinking water and occasionally glanced behind me to ensure I was truly alone. Turning to discover myself face to face with an indignant Goldfields kangaroo would not meet my ideal of a walking companion. I was absolutely alone, and accepted the Salt People’s invitation to acquaint myself further.

Way out there, I was glad for my heavily-treaded worker boots. They were the footwear equivalent of a Landcruiser, and did their very best to stop me slipping arse-over on the reddish goo lying just beneath the broken lake bed. I had two near-misses.

By this time, a thought had gotten to me. My companions, Linda and Arnett, had no idea where I was. I had double-backed around the other side of the hillock and totally removed myself from line of sight. I had willed myself to be lost for half an hour, breaking the golden rule for remote areas. Indeed, they were worried, and were manoeuvring the hire car around to different vantage points until they could see me.

It was an easy enough thing to do. You can keep the Mona Lisa. The Salt People ranks as one of the most fantastic and immersive combinations of art and nature I’ve ever experienced.