It is a surreal experience the first time you see Uluru up close. It just seems so improbably large, a feeling which is amplified by the juxtaposition of the rock with the seemingly endless flatness of the Australian outback. I had a similar experience seeing the pyramids of Giza many years ago, regardless of how many times you have seen photos of them, the impact the real experience has on you is beyond expectations. After two decades travelling over six continents, it was quite special to finally get to the red centre of my home country for the first time. It was particularly special to be able to see it from the air at sunset. Big shout out to @ayersrockhelicopters for agreeing to my special request to take the doors off for the flight (along with Deb and Peter, who were the other guests in the heli, for agreeing to put up with the almost 200km winds rushing past their faces so I could get some photos). Sacred to the Pitjantjatjara Anangu, the Aboriginal people of the area, the rock has a circumference of 9.4 km (5.8 miles) and stands 348 m (1,142 ft) high above the surrounding plain. At its peak it sits at 863 m (2,831 feet) above sea level with most of its bulk thought to be underground. Considered an inselberg (literally "island mountain"), or monolith, it has incredible homogeneity and is almost without jointing or parting across its surface. This has allowed the rock to remain solid though the avoidance of scree and soil slopes while the rest of the landscapes around it eroded. In a landmark native title settlement the area surrounding Uluru and nearby Kata Tjuṯa was handed back to the indigenous Pitjantjatjara Anangu in 1985. Named by British colonists in 1873 as Ayres Rock after the Chief Secretary of South Australia, it is now officially gazetted as Uluru / Ayers Rock under a dual naming policy.
Sunrise over the mist in the Wollombi Valley with the Watagan mountains in the background, New South Wales, Australia
Cold, wet, isolated and imposing. An iconic rock climb due to the unpredictable and dangerous nature of the weather and sea state below, the Totem Pole is a narrow dolerite sea stack at Cape Huay in the Tasman National Park, Tasmania, Australia. It stands 65 metres (213 ft) tall from the mean sea level, yet is only a few metres wide in any direction. Its notoriety further increased after leading British climber Paul Pritchard suffered a severe head injury in 1998 rupturing his skull and losing half of his blood causing a hemiplegia or partial paralysis. His female climbing partner spent three arduous hours hauling him up to a ledge halfway up the pole where she could secure him and then ran 7km to arrange help. Due to the narrow channel the rescue team was not able to get a helicopter close enough for a direct rescue and ambulance service had to down climb from the top of the Totem Pole to the ledge. Pritchard spent a total of 10 hours on the ledge before the rescue was complete.
