The oncologist didn't want to see Elaine for almost 2 months, which gave us a window of 6 weeks until her next scans. So, we decided to go somewhere further away than usual. Initially, it was going to be Granada, but the torrential rain made it necessary to head in the opposite direction. We decided it was about time we went to Manikia, on the island of Evia, in Greece, about 2 hours drive north of Athens. 

It's a long and tiring journey, which includes a 22-hour ferry from Ancona to Igoumenitsa (or Patras), which takes us 4 days. It's well worth the effort though. 

We established ourselves at Dragonera Cliffs Camping in Vrysi, which is definitely the best place to stay in a van, as the Manikia Project discourages wild camping. The campsite is basic but is great value at 12€ a night for 2 people + van, and Maria is the friendliest host you could possibly imagine. We were very touched by her generous gifts of eggs, cakes, and fruit every few days. The campsite has toilets, showers, drinking water and a kitchen area. 

It's worth mentioning that you can walk to the closest crags, which are located above the campsite in a beautiful valley called Mpougazi. However, it's much nicer to drive up the hill and save yourself 20 minutes, and save your energy for climbing. At peak holiday times, I can imagine the car park gets full quickly, so be aware that walking might be the only option. You'll need a car to get to all the other crags, which are located in the valley between Vrysi and Manikia. 

Another point worth mentioning is that Manikia is nothing like Kalymnos or Leonidio. It's very quiet and peaceful; I would say that it definitely feels off the beaten track, it's wild and unspoilt. It's also pretty clean, you don't see the litter and plastic bottles that you find in other parts of Greece. The place has a rural feel and there are plenty of goats and sheep about. 

There is an excellent shop in Vrysi where you can buy most things, including fresh bread, fruit and vegetables, beer and homemade cakes and savouries, and the topo. There are also 2 excellent places to eat out: The Tavern (below the shop) and the River Café (below the Tavern). Both provide excellent value for money food with great friendly service. There is a supermarket in nearby Konistres, where there is also a climbing shop and a Sunday market. 

When we arrived in early March, it was a bit too hot for climbing but perfect for living in the van. Then it got really cold at night with frost in the mornings (it even snowed), which was perfect for climbing but unpleasant for living in the van, so we moved into a caravan on the campsite. It got way too cold at night in the caravan, so we rented an apartment (The House on the Mountain, in nearby Gaia, opposite the lower valley crags). A constant feature of the weather was the strong wind. The last couple of weeks were a bit unsettled, but the crags stayed dry. However, it was raining and a miserable 7C when we left in early April just before the Easter holidays. 

I like steep climbing on good holds and tufas, so climbed mostly at Dragonera, in Mpougazi and Les larmes de Sisyphe, in the Lower Valley. Other notable crags were Rolling Stone, Ilona Cave, Rainbow, Manikia Kentro and Manikia Paralia. Nick Weicht has equipped Sisyphe Right single handedly, which will become a very popular spot, once it cleans up. 

Amazingly, most of the time we had the crags to ourselves. Most of the crags face south, which means climbing in the afternoon/early evening after a leisurely start to the day. Unfortunately, the north facing crags are banned until the end of June due to nesting birds, so we didn't climb there but, to be honest, it looks like a faff getting there with lots of handlines. Daxi Daxi looks really good for next time. 

Many of the routes at Sisyphe start above an awkward slab accessible by handlines, roughly 10 metres above the ground. I was able to do all of them, belayed by Elaine on the ground, and using long slings on the first few bolts. An 80m rope was long enough to lower back down to the handlines. Ok, there was some rope drag up high, but it was worth it to avoid faffing about, and an uncomfortable hanging belay for her.  Definite to guarantee a full workout for me though. 

In summary: a great adventure, somewhere new, remote, quiet, slower pace of life, excellent climbing, friendly locals, beautiful scenery.

For further information, read Dominic Oughton's excellent 3 part blog:

https://rockaroundtheworld.co.uk/2024/03/02/manikia-mpougazi/

https://rockaroundtheworld.co.uk/2024/02/28/manikia-lower-valley-crags/

https://rockaroundtheworld.co.uk/2024/03/03/manikia-upper-valley/

The Lower Valley crags 

Still half a Greek salad left!

Vegetarian pizza at the River Café

Manikia Paralia 

Marx Attack, 7c, Sisyphe 

Mummy break time, 8a, Ilona Cave (photo by Iris Straatsma)

Iris on Mummy break time 

Iris trying Breaking Dad, 8a+

Get off my cloud, 8a, Rolling Stone (photo by Simon/Louise Nadin)

Ethelontis, 7c, Dragonera (photo by Simon Nadin)

View from Rolling Stone 

View from Rolling Stone 

Looking up the valley towards Manikia 

Rainbow/Ilona carpark 

Team Nadin Owen 

Mpougazi from Dragonera Cliffs Camping 

Buy the topo 

Mortal Kombat

I've not felt like writing much for well over a year. Mostly it's because there has been a major change in our lives. 

We've been happily cruising through life, always climbing, taking good health for granted and blissfully unaware of the passage of time. 

Then Elaine was diagnosed with cancer in June 2023. Long story short: surgery, immunotherapy treatment, anti-angiogenic drugs, so many appointments and finally it's looking like she's in the clear. Luckily, living in France, the care she has received has been incredible. We're sincerely grateful to everyone involved. It's obviously been a very difficult time for both of us. But she's one of the lucky ones. Sadly, we've lost a lot of friends recently to cancer. 

So, there haven't been as many trips away or any real "King Lines" ticked for a long time. Never mind, we'll soon get back to normal. 

However I have been thinking a lot about one particular King Line just recently, well since 16 January as it marked the 20th anniversary of me doing a very special climb down here on the Côte d'Azur. 

Pretty soon after moving here in 1999, I remember an Italian climber doing the full version of the 7c+ I was trying at Castillon (Mortal Kombat). I was instantly inspired, the only problem was that it was given 8c (2 grades above my hardest ever) and, therefore, too hard for me. Then Yuji and Christian Brenna both on-sighted it and gave it 8b+. Hmm, maybe it might be possible, I thought to myself. 

During the next couple of years I had an occasional play on the moves, only to find them desperate and give up each time. Then, during the summer and autumn of 2004 I hit a really good period when I was definitely fitter and doing lots of 8as quickly, with a few really good 8a+s too. I decided to commit myself to really trying to do Mortal Kombat, as soon as it got cold enough to go back to Castillon. By that time the strong locals had downgraded it to a mere 8b, immediately after Muriel Sarkany and Leila Hachem became the first women to succeed, which I thought seemed rather unfair. 

Whatever. Regardless of the grade, it's a truly awesome climb up an amazing overhanging wall. It's the most striking feature when you arrive at the crag, I'm sure everyone has looked up and, for a moment at least, been hooked by it's magic spell and imagined themselves up there on such a compelling line. Axel Franco created a masterpiece, truly one of the best. It is both physically and mentally demanding, very steep and being about 45 metres long, it takes a lot of concentration and effort to stay totally focused for a long time. 

The route breaks down into 3 parts. 

Firstly, a hard 15-metre 7c+, that you have to get well dialled so as not to use up too much energy, to a good but awkward rest. 

Secondly, you're straight into the hard climbing, about 20 metres of tricky moves, including a weird shoulder move on a 2 finger pocket, followed by undercuts and big reaches with poor footholds. Then a massive span up left off a small improved hold hopefully gains the poor tufa. A couple of desperate moves right on the limit then, at last, the chance to get a kneebar and the first rest. Lots of shuffling with kneebars leads to the top of the tufa and the last rest before committing to the last of the hardest sequences, moving up and right to the continuation of the tufa and another kneebar (see Phil Maurel's excellent photo of Axel Franco on the first ascent). One more tricky move leads to a reasonable rest at some big enough undercuts, where you can recover. From the top of the 7c+ to there is probably a good 8a+ in itself. 

Thirdly, the top is probably only 7c, but it's another 10 metres of complicated climbing where the pump really kicks in. You really have to make sure to work out the best way. It's technical and fingery, and it's still possible to fall off and blow it (I know at least one strong local who has come to grief there). You have to concentrate all the way to the chain, otherwise you'll be off and have to try again another day, as you'll be finished for that day. 

So, quite early in the Castillon  season, on Sunday 16 January 2005, all the planets aligned, gravity was weak, and I finally realised my dream. I was 46 at the time and definitely the oldest person to have climbed Mortal Kombat. It was even reported on Phil Maurel's "Nice Climbs" website, under the heading "Le promenade de l'Anglais" (despite me being Welsh) with an accompanying photo. 

It was a very special day, not just for me: Boule did La Niaque and Thierry did his first 8a (Trace Direct). Jean was there, too, he'd recently done his first 7c at the tender age of 67!

Happy memories indeed. In fact, at some point during most days, I find myself remembering that day. You'll know when, just look for the dreamy, faraway look and the big smile on my face. 

Where did those 20 years go?

Big thanks to Axel for equipping such a fantastic climb and to Elaine for all the encouragement and patient belays. 

La Reina de las Columnas

Sometimes photos can really inspire you. Such was the case when I saw the photo of Mariona Marti on La Reina de las Columnas (an 8a at Llaberia in Spain) in the 1st edition of Tarragona Climbs, nine years ago. I was captivated and had to try it. I did try it pretty soon afterwards. 

The photo of Mariona Marti that inspired me

Firstly, I failed miserably on a 7c+ called Los Gabachos and then did exactly the same on La Reina de las Columnas. Unfortunately, it was a damp and misty day, and I wasn't fit enough for either at the time. The years have passed (far too quickly) and I've not had the chance for a rematch. Until recently.

Elaine and I set off with a plan for a short 12 days in the Cali. We managed to avoid getting lost on the approach to the crag this time, despite it being misty again. Unfortunately, the black tufas at the start of La Reina were very wet so I needed to try something else.

I decided to try Los Gabachos again. As I sat on the rope, dogging the moves, I remembered that it was hard and the tufas were slopey and wondered to myself what was I thinking; what was I doing, why was I trying again? It seemed totally desperate, so there were no expectations as I set off on my next attempt (I've always called this 2nd go or 1st redpoint). I arrived at the crux section and rested at the kneebar, feeling relaxed and under no pressure, expecting to fall off pretty soon to be honest. However, I just climbed and, move after move, everything just went smoothly (although I was puffing away like an old steam train). Eventually, after lots of rounded tufas,  plenty of kneebars and a total body pump, I was clipping the belay. Flipping heck, that was totally unexpected and a big surprise. The buzz you get from climbing like that is amazing and so addictive, it usually lasts for several days.

Our trip continued with me climbing outdoors for 2 days, whilst Elaine climbed indoors (at Monobloc in Reus) on my rest days. 

Elaine looking strong at Monobloc

Next day, I managed El Conchito (7c/+) 2nd go before having a play on King of Bongo (8a), which I was able to do after my next rest day. A couple of really good 7cs were next in the bag, 3eme Millénaire and Combustion Spontanée.

Combustion Spontanée (7c), Eddie belaying

Eventually, La Reina de las Columnas dried out and I decided to take a look. It took a long time to work out the beta, which needed lots of fine tuning during 3 days of effort, patiently belayed by Elaine, Eddie and Ewan, much appreciated and big thanks guys.

So, the last day of our trip arrived, we had to go home the next day, no chance of staying any longer. Patience is very important in climbing, and it's good to keep your mind clear, stay calm and avoid putting yourself under any pressure. After all, it's only climbing, it's not that serious. Or is it? If it wasn't going to work out that day, there'd always be another time. It ended up being another of those zen moments when everything went perfectly (again there was lots of puffing like an old steam train). Amazingly I had realised my dream and it felt so good. I'm still enjoying that high, 3 days later. 

The start is hard

Long reach to gain the thin tufa

Trying really hard

Almost there

At the kneebar above the crux

I'm 65 years young and still climbing 8a. How the flipping heck is that possible? I don't know how, but I do know that I'm still hopelessly addicted to this crazy fun waste of time pursuit climbing up rocks. And long may it continue.

Ewan climbing Rififi au Tour de France (7b)

Ewan and Woody chillin

Great to catch up with Dave and Rhian Cross, Eddie Martinez and Ewan McCallum during our time in Spain. All outdoor climbing photos taken by Elaine Owen (big thanks kiddo).

Also: please be aware that the climbing at Llaberia is restricted from 10 January until 31 July. This is to encourage the expansion in the population of the rare Bonelli's Eagle. 

Perfect Verdon souvenir

40 years ago today, Elaine and I arrived at the Gorges du Verdon for the very first time. It was our first ever climbing trip abroad and we'd made the long drive from Merseyside with Al and Alison Simpson, via a stop off at Fontainbleau to do some bouldering. 

We quickly set up camp at the Camping Municipal and set off for a drive along La Route des Cretes to go and check out the cliffs. We stopped at all the belvederes to take in the impressive views. Not surprisingly, we were awe-inspired as we watched the climbers making their ways up the various routes on La Falaise de l'Escales, the biggest and most popular cliff in the gorge at that time.

Next day, after an early start, Elaine and I set off from Couloir Sampson along the Sentier Martel, heading for the classic multipitch Voie de la Demande. I'd recently broken into the E6 grade back in North Wales, so I assumed that La Demande would be straight forward, as it was theoretically much easier. However, it turned into a baptism by fire and we took all day! A combination of tricky route finding, climbing with trainers and water bottles attached to our harnesses, along with climbing in the intense afternoon sun meant that we were very slow. We had a total epic, especially in the chimneys at the top which were very strenuous and utterly terrifying. Furthermore, there was nobody around to hitch a lift back to the campsite, so we had to walk all the way back and arrived totally exhausted, well after most people had gone to bed! Neither of us slept well that night, we were far too worried about our car sitting in the car park at Couloir Sampson. Rick Newcombe gave me a lift to go and get it early the next morning; it was a great relief to find it still there, undamaged with all the windows intact.

After our epic on La Demande, Elaine and I decided that we'd had enough of climbing long routes, starting at the base and climbing all the way to the top of L'Escales. At the top of the cliff there were lots of one and two pitch routes, accessible by abseil, that kept us happy for a few days (eg Necronomicron and Ctulah), always after a leisurely breakfast (thanks to Rupert Hewson for collecting fresh baguettes and croissants every morning). 

There are also lots of climbs that start from the various tree covered terraces part way up the cliff. However, the multiple abseils needed to get down are almost as famous (and harrowing) as the climbs! So, Al and I were very happy to complete the abseils down to the bottom of Jean-Claude Droyer's classis masterpiece Triomphe d'Eros without incident. (Sadly, the climb is defaced with red and white GR markings, presumably somebody egotistically implying that it's a path.) Everything went smoothly until the belay next to the famous graffiti "La concierges est dans la fissure, sonnez la", which was when a massive storm started. Luckily the timing was perfect for a change, we were completely sheltered and stayed dry. However, the next pitch was a long traverse right that led to a belay below the crux pitch, both were completely soaked and unclimbable. Neither of us wanted to abseil all the way down, and staying put was not a good idea as it was getting late by then. Al spotted a line of pegs and bolts that went up the dry overhanging wall leftwards above our belay, so he manfully set off (despite having no idea what grade it was) using a mixture of free and aid climbing, and got to the top without much fuss. It was a phenomenal lead in my opinion. Next day, we abbed back to the belay besides the doorbell and finished the route. Brilliant!

Joe Picalli inspired Elaine and I to go and climb the uber classic Dingomaniaque, which we both enjoyed without having an epic. Joe and I finally teamed up and had so much fun together on Toujours plus près. 

Our visit coincided with the appearance of the book Opera Vertical (featuring Patrick Edlinger) in the shop in La Palud. It provided the perfect souvenir for our trip and would provide the inspiration for a return the following year to climb Surveiller et Punir. Joe, Elaine and I climbed a number of the routes on the roadside crag of Miroir du Fou and managed to succeed on Overcool Babados and Missing before it was time to start the long journey north.

Where Al and I waited for the storm to pass whilst on Triomphe d'Eros

The crux pitch of Triomphe d'Eros

I remember Ctulah was pretty tough

The awesome crux pitch of Dingomaniaque

Overcool Babados

The 3rd (crux) pitch of Surveiller et Punir, inspiration for the following year

The 4th (and last) pitch of Surveiller et Punir, more inspiration for the following year

TNT, a climb I did the following year with Simon King

Malaxe

St Léger is definitely one of the best places to climb in the south of France and it's just over a three hour drive away for us. We have been climbing there, off and on, for over 20 years. It's located in a beautiful part of Provence, just to the north of the imposing Mont Ventoux, and is surrounded by rustic villages, vineyards and lavender fields.

La Baleine is the stand out sector for me. It has climbing from 6a to 8c, from vertical to crazily steep and has plenty of shade. Grades are generally stiff and you have to pull hard; there are lots of tufas and therefore lots of knee bars, but there are also lots of slopers too, so the climbing is always very pumpy. I've been captivated by the place since the early days of equipping back in 2009, despite my ego getting a severe kicking on more than one occasion, I have more unfinished projects there than anywhere else! Occasionally I do manage to complete something though.

Early in September 2021, I was inspired to try a very steep 8a/+ called Malaxe, after watching  a German climber, called Maria, who looked very strong and solid on the moves. I went up twice that day, but didn't really find the methods for the hardest sections. It rained heavily overnight, the route got wet and it was easy to use that as an excuse to walk away and forget about it. 

Climbing is sometimes like that, you have to be really motivated to put in a lot of effort when you're trying something close to your limit. There are days when things seem too much like hard work, but there are also those magical days when the planets align, gravity is low, and everything seems effortless.

Fast forward 18 months and we were back at St Léger. After the dry, mild winter Malaxe was totally dry, which is very rare for that time of year. Time to man up and get stuck in properly. As it turned out, there were 2 other climbers trying the route around the same time. Sharing beta with Mick and Alma was great fun and inevitably saved time, there was a really relaxed vibe at the crag as each of us got steadily closer and closer to sending. In the end I found Mick's beta most useful: a cunning left heel/toe and right hand sloper, on the first crux, and a left middle finger mono undercut (easier to take with fat fingers than the normal undercut) at the start of the second crux near the top. It took me a long time to get the first crux dialled but, fortunately, the first time I got through it I managed to link all the way to the top. 

Succeeding on Malaxe felt like a high point and brought me intense feelings of joy and pleasure that lasted several days. However, it wouldn't have been possible without the encouragement of Elaine, patiently holding the other end of the rope. So a massive "thank you" to her. Thanks also to Blaise for his vision and equipping the route.

After Malaxe, we spent a lot more time at La Baleine. There were some more successes and, of course, some frustrating failures. That's climbing: there are good days and bad days, there are ups and downs; a bit like life in general. 

Wonderful to spend time at the crag with Michaela and Roman (Czech/Bonnieux), Cathy and Seb (every crag in France, Spain, Italy....!), Mick (France), Alma (Mexico), Filipe (Portugal), Vilja (Finland), Gaetan (Bretagne) and Aurel and Malin (France/Germany/Australia). Good to see Tansy and Keefe and Kev and Becca too.

All uncredited photos by Elaine.

1st look at Malaxe in 2021 (photo by Maria)

Elaine divvying out the wine (photo by Mike)

Aurel, Malin and their two lovely daughters

Keefe n Ruff

Tansy n Keefe

A tight fit (photo by Kev)

Filipe

Gaetan

Vilja

Kev

Alma

Michaela on Ma loi (same start as Malaxe) 

Michaela high on Ma Loi

Aurel attempting to onsight Malaxe

Mick redpointing L'Hyponténuse, which crosses Malaxe