TASK: Take your readers on a journey into a childhood memory.

It was an extremely hot day, probably in the mid thirties, in central Australia. I was really excited for what we were about to do. We got on a bus early in the morning and travelled through the vast dessert of the Kata Tjuta National Park. For miles all I could see was red dirt with the odd tree standing alone. The dirt road was bumpy and left a cloud of red dust in it's wake. Within a few minutes, I could see an enormous rock standing out in the distance. As we approached it grew larger and clearer. In front of us was the magnificent Uluru. As we got off the bus, I realised how big Uluru actually was and how high I would be once I climbed it. As we began to climb my sister got really scared and stopped. My mum and brother stopped with her, but I ran off up the rock even though I could hear them yelling at me to stop. I sped up the extremely steep incline and climbed up and down the deep ridges. It was hard for me considering that I wasn't tall enough to reach the bottom of the dips or the top of them once I slid down to the bottom. Some people stopped to help me get up and down. At one stage I was slowly sliding down a ridge that had a sharp turn at the end and I realised how dangerous it actually was up there, but that didn't stop me from making it to the top as quickly as I could. The view from the top was absolutely break taking. I could see for what felt like forever. I stayed up there for a while, just admiring the view. I then made my way down, much more slowly and carefully than I made my way up. Down the bottom I met up with my mum, brother and sister who were not happy with me for running off. We looked around the base of Uluru at some of the Aboriginal artwork. Once we had seen everything we made our way back to the bus for the drive back to our hotel.