The big moment had finally arrived, and there was no avoiding it – I was going to have to climb the damned thing. We caught an 8:50am shuttle bus to the rock, and began to make our way to the base of the climb.

The Aboriginal people native to this area (and who own the rock), known as the Anangu, request that visitors to the rock do not climb it since it is a sacred monument in their culture, and also because they do not want people to injure themselves. The vast majority of people do not heed this request. Climbing the rock is actually a very dangerous business, since there are no steps, and the angle of the incline can reach 45º or more. Five people are known to have died in the attempt to climb the rock (by falling off it), and over twenty are known to have suffered fatal heart attacks as a result of the climb. There are probably many more that are unrecorded because they happen later on in the day.

With these thoughts foremost in my mind, I began to climb up the first part of the rock. The track to the summit is actually more than 3 km long, but the steepest section runs only for the first 600m. Along this section there is also a chain to hold on to, but no effort has been made to make the rock’s surface easier to climb. Once past this section, there is a plateau, and then a dotted line painted onto the surface of the rock leads the way for the remainder of the journey to the summit.

The strange thing is that there seem to be a large number of people going up and down the first 600m, and congregating in the plateau at the top of the chain, but very few venture further and complete the journey to the top. During this section, we found ourselves alone on the path, and no-one else arrived until we had been sitting at the summit for some time.

We completed the climb and descent in some 2½ hours, although it’s recommended that you actually allow 3 hours for the round trip.