Great to be back home!

You have to admit that Britain has an awful lot going for it. Honest! The real ale is the best in the world. The curries are awesome. The climbing is fantastic (weather permitting, of course). And, as we recently reminded ourselves, the indoor climbing walls are brilliant!

The plan was to combine a family visit with some climbing. Shame it poured down just before we arrived, so the crags were soaked. Ewan wanted to go to Gordale, I fancied Kilnsey. We ended up at Malham thinking it would be drier. Now that is a place I used to know very well. However, it was bloody freezing and the crag was very, very wet.  I used to cruise up many of the classics putting the draws in a long, long time ago. On a good day I could do Raindogs, Zoolook, Connect Four, New Dawn, Mescalito, Herbie and Obsession with no falls, placing all the clips (apart from Connect). That means three 8a's, two 7c+'s, one 7c and one 7b+. Of course that was only possible because I knew each route so well and having a workout day was always so much easier than trying Cry Freedom or Bat Route. Don't forget, I am pretty lazy at heart, so I have always tended to go for the easier option. Ok, this time the crag was very wet and it is over 14 years since I moved to France. The outcome was a dead cert: I got my arse kicked big time and I'd forgotten how to climb there; my fingers weren't strong enough and I found it so hard using little, polished footholds. No excuse, I was crap.

A change of plan was needed. Why bother trying to retro flash (or worse: dog then redpoint) routes from the past? Not to mention trying to cope with wet holds and polished footholds, etc. Yes, the easy option of course! Forget climbing outdoors and go inside. We came up with a list of walls to visit. However, we were so impressed with the excellent Climbing Hangar (in Liverpool) that we didn't get to the other walls. Maybe another time.

We started climbing at 3pm. Then we did the comp, which started at 6pm. Arms finally gave up at 8.30pm! Came 15th overall (out of around 80). Photo by Steve Boote.

"Pass the gravy, please dear" (well that's what most folks do on Sunday's).

We don't do roast dinners on Sunday's. In fact we don't do roast dinners any day. Firstly, we're never at home on Sunday's to make/eat one. Secondly, they tend to be very tasty but very heavy on the fat and carbs, so not too good for you. And thirdly, they are very expensive. Frankly, we'd rather spend the money on a new pair of rock shoes, or a new rope, or diesel in the tank to get to some new mega crag.

So, we didn't get to pass the gravy. Instead we were to be found playing at one of our favourite playgrounds, in other words Jurassic Park. We have been whiling away lots of time there over the past 14 years. Nowadays it is not "a la mode" and nobody else goes there. We tend to refer to it as "our cliff" and we look after it by replacing quick draws and chains, oiling stiff in-situ karabiners, cutting down vegetation and improving the path, etc. We've also been giving Cayenne the same loving treatment as well. This last week we've been out there 4 times, just enjoying climbing for climbings sake. Neither of us has done anything that we haven't done before, but it's been wonderful just to get the body moving and doing plenty of mileage, completely stress free.

Anyway, twice this week there have been visitors at our crag! Not "tourists" but locals. Word has spread that the crags are dry! John and Sheila Stark and Pierre and Marie Von Brizzi were all there yesterday, which led to a very pleasant, friendly atmosphere at the crag with the usual banter and trading of tales. However, I have become very proud of my new status as fashion icon. I jest not, John has answered to the call and gone for the cut off jeans look, too. It has taken a long time to convince anybody else (and it has been hard having to put up with taunts from the likes of Baz and Dunning!). So, now there are two of us happily wedging our knees in wherever possible without the rigmarole of knee pads or forking out lots of dosh. Finally, very well done to Sheila for sending the difficult and slippery Homo Sapince (7b).

Fashion icon Sponge Bob Square Pants!

Local prodigy "Strong Uncle John" wearing the new look!

John warming up on the classic Homo Sapince (7b).

Strong Uncle John on the crux.

A rare look at the camera from Scamp.

Every move counts

The trip to St Petersburg was a gastronomic marathon and included lots of visits to palaces, churches and museums in between extravagant restaurants. Never before have we eaten so many massive meals. The highlight was the Restaurant Palkin on our last day, where liquid nitrogen was used to provide a cloud of gas on the table prior to serving the main dish and, later on, to make fresh ice cream in front of our eyes. I had a huge slab of bull flambe'd in 30 year old Noe. This course alone cost 4400 reubles (well over 100 euros!) so it's just as well everything was free! The trip was great fun and we learnt a great deal about the history of the city, although we did feel totally pogged out by the end.



The Restaurant Palkin, where Mougins School staff ate like kings!

 

It was with relief that we headed off in the Cali to get back in shape. Or that's what we intended. However, it was really too hot and sweaty in the Tarn where it was impossible to do anything harder than 7b!! Disappointed we headed back to St Leger to meet up with Nathan Hoette and Heather Trevarthan (two young, hard core travelling climbers from Australia) who we spent some time with before going to Russia. Again, the heat put a stop to realising some great routes on redpoint. I have an ever growing list of projects there in need of finishing. Mind you the high temps didn't stop Pierre Delas from sending Leviathan (8b++) or Nathan from sending Les Amateurs des grosses essaims (8c). Demoralised after spending 4 days to send a 7b+ (during which Nathan told me "not to worry - every move counts") we packed up and headed home for a couple of days.

Next destination was the Ariege, specifically the Grotte de Sabart (where we last climbed some 10 years ago) hoping to find the cave nice and cool. Alas, t'was not to be, though we did arrive late the first day. I got shut down by the heat on El Chico and Como un tigre, with sweat pouring out of every pore. It was great to meet up with legend Stevie Haston in his local "habitat", trading tales and moaning about youth (or rather the lack of it, as far as we were concerned!). He has mellowed a lot since I last saw him in Wales probably in the 80's (possibly due to his very calm French wife Laurence and all the yoga they do). He is the perfect example of motivation and what you can do if you put in the effort. He is still super strong and probably the most motivated grand dad in the world! He is currently working a project that he reckons will take 3 to 5 months and will need careful attention to diet, resting and so on. How awesome is that? I'm sure it'll take him less time than that but, as Stevie said "Sabart ain't going away anywhere soon!". I hope we get chance to meet up again some time soon. We then spent some ace, stress-free days bouldering at Orlu (which has great circuits on super grippy granite) despite the 41 degrees C.

Back home, a day at Jurassic Park in the fantastic Gorges du Loup to see just how bad things were. The usual repertoire of great routes no problem, despite feeling like they were completed in a sauna! Ok, perhaps it does help a little knowing just exactly where every knee bar is, I suppose. Still, it was just pure pleasure to go climbing without dogging on the end of the rope for a change.

Which makes me think about the point of going away trying to climb in summer. We get 2 whole months off and it is almost impossible to climb at your limit in Europe. How frustrating is that?

At the end of the day, Stevie Haston cooling down on Baby Sabart 7c+

Elaine on what we called Colin Binks' problem (5b) at Orlu.

Elaine again at Orlu.

Of course, it doesn't really matter how hot or how sweaty it is as long as you're having lots of fun. So, there you go. Until next time!


Hot and sweaty on El Chico (photo by Laurence Gouault Haston)