Home; and away - 28/09/2008

No - this is nothing to do with that crap TV show. This is my last update for the trip - because I'm now home!

After a week in Scotland, I made my way down to Sheffield, and stayed a few nights with Mike, whom I'd met and climbed with in the French Alpes. We were also joined by Aidan, another friend I'd met and climbed with over there. Our first day there we headed out to Stanage Edge, probably the most famous of all the famous gritstone crags. The way to put any Brit down about these crags is to remind them that they're only 10m high - but it could be said that these crags were the birth place of rock climbing as we know it.

The climbing was brilliant. Really the rock is just a hardened, more compact, higher friction form of sandstone. Lots of friction, lots of delectable cracks (good for stuffing full of metallurgy, as well as limbs). After a night of Indian and some real ales, Aidan and I headed out to Froggat the next day. Another great day, perfect weather, and some more demanding lines than the day previous. I climbed my first HVS, then to end the day another HVS called Valkyrie. Given the length of the climb, it packed a lot of punch - an all in jamb crack starting with big hands going to good ones (non-climbers may get a little confused here - sorry), a hand traverse into the most cramped belay ever, then up and around an arete on slopers before a big sloping mantle to finish. I felt pretty chuffed - and quickly humbled by the fact that Joe Brown had made the first ascent of the route in 1949.

Next stop was Brighton, where I stayed a couple of nights with Gareth and Bec, some friends from Australia. We spent a sunny Saturday visiting a medieval castle, eating steak and ale pies, then heading to the coast to see the chalk cliffs. Truly out of this world - the sight was just stunning, rolling green hills ending in precipitous chalk cliffs, then drop 70m odd down to the sea.

A sampling of the Brighton pubs the night previous warranted a good cooked breakfast on Sunday - bring on the black pudding. I soon set about making my way to Oxford, where I crashed with some other friends from Australia, Eddie and Jo. During a week there I had a great time catching up with these good friends that I hadn't seen for over a year, seeing what I could of Oxford (a really nice 'little town' that grew on me quite quickly), and also got into London a few times, about 90mins away.

Hmmm - what can I say about London. Whoops - have I already portrayed my lack of enthusiasm? I did like London. It's got some beautiful old buildings, but its very modern as well and is by no means stuck in the past. The British Museum - completely free - was the most amazing museum I'd been in on the trip. But the sights are ridiculously expensive - I don't care WHO'S head got chopped off there, AUD$40 plus is not a fair price to pay. I have to admit though, being at the end of my trip and being there by myself probably affected my view more than anything else.

Either way, as soon as I was back in Paris, in the sun, and wandering down boulevards lined with trees (something I can't remember having seen in London) it took me all of about 2 seconds to know where I'd rather be. What a beautiful, amazing city - it's got a grand reputation and it deserves it. I spent another 2 nights there, and had a brilliant day riding around the city with Chloe from sight to sight, many of which were free on this particular weekend. Highlights included the Musee d'Orsay, riding up the Champs Elysees (a little slower than they do in Le Tour), and going up the Arc de Triomphe for a grand view of the city.

And before I knew it, I was on my way home. Via Hong Kong - where I'd decided to stop over for two nights. What a contrast! I've never spent time in any part of Asia, and after 6 months in Europe, Hong Kong was a culture shock and a half. Ugly ugly ugly - and pretty dirty too - but I soaked it all in and loved it. The first thing I noticed was all the street advertising - blocking any view between the buildings, these wire suspended signs defy gravity. A typhoon had hit the afternoon I arrived so the weather was very muggy, and windy for a time. There was respite in the multitudes of shopping centres there - but I preferred being outside as the air con everywhere was bloody freezing - my least favourite thing about Hong Kong.

The food - was brilliant. I could have spent so much longer there, and eaten so much more. There is so much variety, and it's so cheap (well - compared to Europe and Australia - maybe not to SE Asia!). My last night there I picked a place that had no English written on the menu, spent about 5 minutes trying to convey I wanted duck and rice, then eventually got it - with soup and green tea, for around AUD$3. The waiter wasn't too happy - "You cause problem! Much problem! Always problems!". One chap that probably wasn't sad to see the British pull out - but there are still plenty of expats around.

And now I'm back home. It feels really good. After having spent so much time in France, I think I really fell for the place and I get a warm fuzzy feeling every time I think about it, but nowhere near enough to make me wish I was back - I love it here. Tomorrow however, I fly up to Mount Isa for 3 weeks of work - after only 3 nights at home. I wish I could relax a bit more and wind down - I haven't even caught up with anyone but the family since being back - but the funds are running low after 9 months off work, and I need to make what I can to pay for the next trip. I'll be leaving these shores again after Christmas for a month in Antarctica then 2 in South America.

Frenchification - 20/09/2008

After Holland I made my way to France, where I spent a week in Dijon with Chloe. It was my third time there but the first time I'd seen her there! She was back from 6 months in Chile, and had reposessed Nik and I's road trip car. It was a good, relaxing week - a nice change to all the sightseeing I had been doing over the previous weeks. Amongst the lazy afternoons in the sun, by the pool, we got out climbing a couple of times (felt a little 'foreign' after so long off the rock), and did a wine tasting course at Beune - heart of French Burgundy wine. In general, a week punctuated by excellent French food and wine. And packing...

Leaving Dijon we spent a day at Fontainbleu - a veritable bouldering mecca (known as 'Font' to English speaking climbers, and as I found out 'Bleu' to the French!). I felt a little rusty starting off, but got into the swing of things and really enjoyed myself. One day there just isn't enough - there is SO much rock, and its all very very nice. A beautiful place.

We got into Paris that night, where I stayed for 2 days. My one whole day there, I spent the day walking around with Chloe and Audrey (they'd both been working in Armidale when I was living there) - great fun catching up on the other side of the world, we had plenty of stories to share. And Paris was pretty nice too!

I then flew out to Edinburgh, where I spent about a week with Nathan - ironically another friend from Armidale. I was met by cold, miserable weather - but warm hospitality and some very friendly Scots. I spent a bit of time looking Edinburgh, including a 'literary pub tour' - very entertaining but the old bars were the nicest I've ever been in! We jumped in the car to head up to the highlands for the weekend, where we spent a day climbing at Glen Coe. The weather was good by Scottish standards, and the rock very compact and a pleasure to climb. The grading system is a little convoluted there - the grade of the two climbs we did was 'Severe', which is more difficult than 'Very Difficult', and a few grades easier than 'Hard Very Severe'!

Continuing our little loop around Scotland, we visited a distillery in Speyside next. The tour guide was great fun, and I left more than a little tipsy. Part of the tour included a tasting - of no less than SIX samples! Three of which were over 60% !! I really enjoyed the Scottish food as well - who can beat haggis and black pudding? In truth, I missed the French cheese, and in general the French 'lifestyle' and ritual of eating, but to be in a country with good, hearty meals was a real pleasure.

Moravian wine cellars to Dutch coffe shops - 9/09/2008

I left Brno later than expected, and with quite a hangover. Destination: Mikulov, the heart of Southern Moravian wine country. I'd planned on staying the night, renting a bike and touring some wineries, but these wine drinking-types always book ahead - the place was full. I settled for a stroll around town, then after booking accomodation elsewhere, got around to trying a few wines at a local cellar before leaving. Only possible after negotiating the village drunk in the doorway who was being served cask white by the litre in the shop!

Thus I headed to Bratislava, capital of the Slovak Republic. I got in to my hostel, an obviously communist built building that houses students during term, fairly late and hit the sack. The next day I started my tour with Bratislava Castle - it was closed for restoration. Wandering the old town was nice, and the national museum was great, but I just wasn't inspired very much by Bratislava. Perhaps a little to do with my motivation levels lacking, everyone I met along the road who had been there also thought it was 'nothing special'. That evening before dinner I went into an art gallery - not usually my thing but recommended. It was a display on 'geometry in art', and had the inner surveyor in me all excited. Don't wave that abstract stuff near me... Dinner was 'halusky', a Slovakian specialty of mini potato balls in a thick goats cheese sauce (bryndzove). It was delicious.

The next morning I jumped on a fast boat along the Danube to Vienna. The whole city took me by surprise really. I'd originally planned on 'finishing' my trip in Vienna because I knew it would be a fabulous city to visit, but after a couple of weeks travelling I was looking forward more to moving onto the next stage. It didn't take long walking through the city to be mesmerised though. The first port of call after dropping by my hostel, was a Wiener Schnitzel for lunch. After orientating myself I visited the museum of Vienna, a well laid out, simple exhibit that was free. Afterwards I paid 1E to register for the city's free bike service. Most of the cities I have been to now over here have something similar. In Vienna you pick a bike up from any station, and as long as you drop it back at another within an hour you pay nothing. I put it to good use in Vienna, as my hostel was a little way out of town.

Day 2 started with a visit to Schonnbrun Palace. It was full of the usual imperial grandeur, but had a sense of being lived in more recently than others I'd visited. Which it was - in one room was the bed that the last Emperor of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, Franz Josef, died on in 1916. I took a bike into town after that for a visit to the Architecture museum, which was good but a little too much information. In the afternoon I visited the Naschmarkt, which was full of stuffed artichokes and countless other things to do with food, including barrels of saurkraut & gerkins selling by the kilo. A felafel roll and baclava fueled my walk over to the Hundertwasserhaus, which wasn't all that interesting to me - it looked like a sub-standard Gaudi replica. Far more interesting was the Postsparkasse (1906) designed by Austrian architecht Otto Wagner.

The following morning I indulged in a slice of Sacher Torte, from the Sacher Hotel - ie the original. Expensive, but oh so good. I also had a look inside the state room of the national library, before jumping on a flight to Amsterdam in the afternoon. Having not organised any accomodation, I set straight to finding something upon arriving in the city around 10pm. I knew I was in Amsterdam when I just about got stoned walking into the common room of the first hostel I walked into. I don't know whether I like Amsterdam. I think I do, but every British and American backpacker I met who raved about the wild nights out there, smoking at the coffee shops, turned me off a little. It's bloody expensive too.

Anyhow - I was in Holland to visit some friends and family who I'd not seen in awhile - since I'd lived in Holland for 6 months when I was 15. So I headed out to Nijmegen after my first night there, and checked in with family De Vries, where I'd stayed. It was great to see them again, and spend some time visiting my old haunts from 10 years ago. I also headed over to Westervoort where I had dinner with Thea and Andre - and Coco their parrot (who I remember from my first visit there in 1990). Before leaving, I stopped by the local coffee shop that I'd always ridden past, but been too young to enter, for a joint. A much nicer experience than I imagine it would be going to one in Amsterdam.

My next stop was Bergen Op Zoom, where Dr Nik is now living and working. We had a great weekend together, getting drunk with his work mates on the Friday night, then heading down to Antwerpen (Belgium) the next day for a 'culinary' festival. The food was good - the waffles were good - the beer was good - the town was good. We also caught a free concert of a few percussion groups in the main square before leaving. It was a great day that we had almost missed out on before making the decision to go.

I spent one more night in Amsterdam with Tom, also a De Vries and the closest to my age when I was living with them, before leaving the country. It was only a short visit to Holland (6 days), but it brought back a lot of memories. Also a pleasant surprise was how much Dutch came back to me just in my few days there - I thought I'd forgotten all of what I learnt 10 years ago but it seems it was locked in the back of my head somewhere. I think I'd kind of written Holland off when planning this whole trip - there's nothing to climb there! But being there once again, it felt very familiar, and reminded me of the fact that half my family comes from there.

Beer and Castles - 31/08/2008

Despite being heralded as a "little mother with claws", I was looking forward to leaving Prague. I got an early Sunday morning train to Karlstejn, known to be a popular tourist spot, so I was glad to be there when the main attraction - the castle - opened for business. It was a bit of a fairytale castle on a hill, but really not that breathtaking - especially inside. So after the tour I got back on another train this time to Plzen (Pilsen in German), and found a hostel with ease around lunch time.

After a bite, I went first to the brewery museum in town (not very special) then headed over to the Pilsner Urquell brewery for a tour. They've been brewing this stuff for a very long time - initally (around 1500AD?) there were something like 100 brewers in town, all with grants from the then Emperor, but eventually they realised most of the produce was crap so they came together and formed Pilsner Urquell (which is German for Plzensky Prazdroj; meaning something like Plzensky water of life). Nowadays the company is owned by a multinational conglomerate (SAB Miller) and is a really spick and span brewery, with a lot of the plant very new. The tour was interesting, particularly watching the bottle plant in operation, but the tasting
at the end was of course a highlight.

The following day I got a train to Ceske Budejovice - where I proceeded to the brewery of Budejovicky (= Budvar Budweiser) after finding accommodation. In comparison to Pilsner Urquell, this company is actually state owned, which is reflected in the operations (not as spic and span). Also by the fact that we got two cups of beer to taste at the end! So my opinion of Czech beer? It's good! As soon as you get out of Prague it's cheap too, generally around $1.50 per half litre (from the tap that is). There's something about it that really makes it a golden nectar - its quite refreshing I think. Another thing I found is that no matter what kind of pub/bar/restaurant you go too, your beer is poured perfectly - every time. They take pride in their beer, it's part of their culture, and it shows with every glass.

The following day I headed out to Cesky Krumlov with a Romanian traveler I'd seen the brewery with. Another 'fairytale' spot, the entire whole town is UNESCO heritage listed. The interior of the castle was far more interesting than Karlstejn, full of plenty of grand, priceless objects. Afterwards we wandered around town for awhile before getting lunch. I had my first pork knee on the trip - presented with a big knife skewering it to a wooden board - an excellent meal, enough for 3 probably, but I didn't leave anything behind.

After a night back in Ceske Budejovice, I had an alpine start to get a 5:30am bus to Telc. The main square there is stunning - like stepping back in time. Pretty much every building was re-done in the Renaissance style after a fire had ripped through there, and they haven't been changed since. The chateu was also quite stunning on the inside, but there wasn't all that much else in the town to see, and so I got another bus late that morning to Brno, the second largest city in the Czech Republic.

My first visit in Brno was to a crypt in the Capuchin Monastery. It's apparently quite unique in that bodies were mummified there, but completely naturally. That is, no preparation, and a reliance on good soil and plenty of venting. Well, the bodies are still there - pretty creepy really. Towards the end is a room where several onks are laying, their bodies on the soil as part of their vow to poverty (ie no coffin for you, buddy). Written on the wall (in Czech) are the words: "As you are now, we once were, as we are now, you shall become."

The next day I headed out to some caves, Moravian Karst, with Maurizio, also staying at my hostel. We toured the main (ie touristy) cave. Yes, there were concrete walkways, lighting all the way through, but in no way did it detract from how spectacular it all was. It was quite a big system, with multiple chambers of some incredible stalactites/mites. The highlight for me was halfway through, when you come out of the (flourescently lit) darkness into the bottom of a 120m cavern that is open up the top. The transformation from dark, to shaded ferny plantlife, to tree filtered sunlight up the top was jaw dropping. After that, we all jumped in a boat for a trip along an underground river/lake system back out to where we started.

That night, my second and last in Brno, turned into quite a bumper when we stumbled across a van with 'AUSTRALIA MATE!' written on it. Of course, I had to stop and say G'day, and it turned into an hilarious night of drinking by the van, in fold out chairs, in the middle of Brno. The two Aussies driving it had just pulled up in front of a bar upon arriving in Brno, not knowing right from left, and so we ended up attracting quite a few crowds over - 'Are you from Australia?'. By the end of the night, well affter the police had moved us on (I was surprised it took them so long actually) we were well versed in saying "Casey Stoner Number One!". Everyone thought we were there for the weekend's moto gp...

Prussia to Bohemia - 27/08/2008

And so it was time to say goodbye to the folks and make my way to Dresden, about 2 hours by train from Berlin. My hostel was in what seemed to be in a bit of a 'trendy' district of the city - it had a good feel to it. I spent the afternoon walking around the city, but didn't see much until the following day when I started by going into the city museum.

Dresden got obliterated towards the end of WWII. Most of the city was destroyed, and most of what is seen in it today has been rebuilt over the years. Which gives it a bit of a funny, surreal feel. Most notable is the main Cathedral, which has one small section of original standing wall, where as the rest of it is fairly shiny new blocks. The city really does have some grand old buildings though. I would be intrigued to know how many of them had actually been rebuilt or not.

For lunch I tried my first doner kebap - even though it wasn't in Berlin. Similar to Aus ingredients, except with red cabbage and garlic sauce, and it's served in a kind of folded pita bread. Pretty filling for $5. My second night there I sampled the great German trend of drinking on the street. It's perfectly legal, and next to the pubs and kebab shops are little stores selling half litre bottles of beer for around $2 each. It creates a nice, interesting atmosphere that you can't really experience in Australia.

I managed to get the wrong train to Prague the next day - but at least it was in the right direction and so I spent 2hrs in a boring little town on the Elbe waiting for the right one. It took me awhile to find my hostel in Prague - which turned out to be a converted sports complex (~50 beds in one room!) on an Island. Maybe it was more than just the hostel, but I just didn't feel good and proceeded to spend the evening walking around to a bunch of hostels all over the city, before finally booking myself into another one for my last couple of nights there.

Day one started with seeing the Prague Castle, where I picked up my new trick of always buying student tickets. It saved me a whole lot on sights over the weeks! I spent 4 nights in Prague and saw heaps, too much to go through. The thing that really took me about Prague is the old buildings. Every other Euro city I'd been to thus far had beautiful old buildings, but often surrounded by fairly recent structures - in Prague you can walk for blocks and blocks and not veer off a cobblestoned street, and always be surrounded by classic, original buildings.

I started sampling what I could of Czech food here, too. Which included the staple meal of beef goulash served with bread dumplings. Also good to have with the excellent beers was the pickled camembert. As for price - I was surprised to find that it wasn't actually as cheap as anticipated. Yes, a little cheaper than Western Europe, but it is a real tourist destination, to the point that I was glad to leave it when I did, and prices reflect that.

On my last night there I went to a recital by members of the Czech Philharmonic in their 'home', the Rudolfinum (said to have the best acoustics of all concert halls in Prague). They played a bunch of classic classics, some of course composed by Prague composers Smenanov and Dvorak. Perhaps not as relaxing as an Iron Maiden concert (they'd played in Prague the night before) it was beautiful to hear/see. The highlight of Prague for me was the Municipal House. This was built at the start of the 20th century as a reflection of sorts of the growing Czech National Revival. The new Czechoslovak Republic was announced from its balconies in 1918 - before this they had been part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. I have never seen a building so immaculately decked out, with attention paid to every detail. You have to see it to believe it.

"Ich bin ein Berliner" - 23/08/2008

So many things happen when you're 'sightseeing'! I've seen a lot in the last couple of weeks, but it would be ridiculous and boring to recount it all. I'll try and give an overview in a couple of stages. I'm currently in Holland, and heading back to France on Monday.

First on the menu was Berlin. After flying from Lyon and getting a train to the hotel, I left the station and bought a 1E currywurst. It was good to be in the country of wurst! Later that day I met Mum and Dad at the airport. It was great to see them, we had so much to tell each other (they'd been travelling through Europe for a couple of months also) that back at the hotel we ended up leaving late for dinner.

For me Berlin was punctuated by two things - sightseeing, and having a great time with the folks all weekend, sharing stories over wurst and beer. On that side of things, one highlight was a home cooked dinner at the house of (enter long connection here). Preceding the dinner, we were also shown to an outdoor 'wine garden' in a lovely square, where you can taste and then buy local wine by the glass or bottle, and plenty of tables and seats are provided where you can bring whatever picnic food you want. Not to be too much of the wine bar type, I also made sure we got to the 'Berlin International Beer Festival' on the Sunday. 2km, yes TWO KILOMETRES of differing beer stalls, and they were packed in too. Most of the beers were German - which was amazing to see, the country must have as many different beers as France has cheeses!

On the sightseeing front, we saw a lot - aided by the city's excellent public transport network. The Brandenburg Tor, Checkpoint Charlie (where Mum and her Sis crossed the border into East Germany a few years back as tourists), a boat tour, the history museum, a palace - the list goes on. One amazing thing about Berlin is how it has progressed in such recent history - from Nazi Germany, to the intriguing division between the capitalist west and communist east, to what it is today - a modern, progressive city (it IS the birthplace of curry wurst and the doner kebap!).

My lasting memory of Berlin is it's modern architecture. The highlight being the parliamentary buildings. The old Reichstag is national pride embodied. They have built an amazing glass dome on top, which we went up one evening for great views of the city, as well as a view into the parliament below. The parliamentary offices are proof that you can build something aesthetically pleasing with a metric f#cktonne of concrete. It's an inspiring place.

Time for change - 30/07/2008

So far my trip has 'revolved' around climbing - more or less. It was always the plan - to come to Europe to climb. Where possible I have tried to 'indulge' in the culture as much as possible - usually by way of food! I'm now packing up the mountaineering gear, and putting aside the rocklimbing gear, for a bit of good old 'backpacking'.

Last you all heard was my trip up Mont Blanc. It was a huge day and the following day was spent eating a meal every half an hour, feeding my hungry, tired body. After that day of rest I headed up in the Aiguille du Midi cable car with Aidan, early the following morning. We then traversed the route of the Midi - Plan traverse - another Alpes classic. Therefore - plenty of people on route! But it did not detract from it too much - there was some beautiful snow ridges, more of that lovely golden granite to ascend to Aiguille de Plan, and brilliant views down into the Chamonix Valley and back to the '3 monts' - Mont Blanc du Tacul, Mont Maudit and Mont Blanc. It was an enjoyable day out, but by the end of the day, walking back out via the Mer de Glace glacier, I felt completely exhausted.

And thus the decision of how to spend my last week in France (for now) was made. After a couple of days rest I packed my things and headed south - to see stage 16 of Le Tour de France. Not exactly a popular sport in Australia, I've watched it with the family every year for as long as I can remember, and always wondered what it would be like to actually be there. I wasn't sure where to start, but was advised the the last mountain stage up to l'Alpe d'Huez would be good to watch - it is a bit of a classic stage in le tour, one of the most gruelling climbs. As I walked to the route from the car - the excitement in the air was amazing. So many people around, and seeing all the campers and people lined along the winding road below was great - already it was worth the trip for me.

Eventually I met up with some other Aussies and we took our place on the road just above the 5km mark. I then found out that the riders would not be coming in for another 5 hours - luckily there was a beer and sausage stall 200m down the road... Eventually the caravan of sponsors came through, throwing out freebies left right and centre, and then shortly after came the riders. Cadel Evans, an Australian, was in a good position to win the race, and when he came through in the group after the race leader I ran along as well as I could, but fear of knocking a rider over, and the horns of the motorbikes behind me meant I didn't last for long (I couldn't have at that pace anyway...).

The day after I packed my bag and decided to go walking in the National Park des Ecrins. It was good to be in my shoes, rather than my boots, and the walking was great, through an area dotted with high lakes. I enjoyed being by myself actually - putting the ipod on I just kept on walking until I was tired and hungry, and stopped at Lac de Culo for the night. The day after I walked back out to the car via a different route, then drove to Grenoble to stay the night with Federico, an Italian climber.

For the weekend, we picked up a French climber, Sylvain, and headed down to Ceuse. Ceuse is regarded as 'the best sport climbing cliff in the World'. Most of the climbing was too bloody difficult for me - I've been using my legs a whole lot in the last 2 months but not my arms much. It was still great fun though, and awe inspiring to see some of the cliffs there - it really is some of the best rock I've ever seen. It would be great to return to one day, when I'm climbing better!

After the weekend I drove up to Dijon, to drop Chloe's faithful little car back home. It was in the order of 20,000kms I put on the clock - not a bad little trip. So this is where I've been for the last couple of days, sorting through the immense load of stuff I've accumulated in the car (it truly is ridiculous - one bad thing about having a car - you get lazy and just chuck it all in!). Tomorrow morning I fly to Berlin to meet up with my parents - it will be great to see them and share some of the stories I've accumulated over the months and hear some from their own travels through Europe - there's only so much you can convey in emails!

After a few days with them, the vague plan is to make my way south through Germany into the Czech Republic, then make my way down to Vienna. From there I fly to Amsterdam, have a week in Holland, then jump on a train to Paris at the end of August for another week in France. After that - it's 3 weeks in the UK before heading back to Aus! It's nearly 2 months all up - but I think I'll be home before I know it.

Mont Blanc - 21/07/2008

My last update saw me sitting out a spell of bad weather in Chamonix - what I'm learning is a familiar routine for this mountaineering silliness...

The bad weather was timed perfectly for an international climbing competition/festival to be held over the Bastille Day long weekend. Sunday night saw Mike and I sitting in the rain watching the finals. The mix of good climbing, bad weather, cheap wine, and a beer festival next door made it a reasonable evening. The 'ceremony' typified to me how the French treat climbing - as such a serious sport - very different to Australia. The panel of 'dignitaries' that came up onto the stage to give speeches made me chuckle and I soon left. It, to me, is just not what climbing is about.

The fireworks after the event I watched from the road out of town. Funny how the climbing event had seemed like the most important part of the evening - rather than Bastille Day. The day after, Bastille Day proper, every shop in town was open for business as usual. I was surprised - but Chamonix is about as much of a tourist destination as you can get - a world unto itself!

The forecast looked good, and so on Tuesday Mike & I set out for Refuge Conscrits for our grand plan - a grand traverse of Mont Blanc - Europe's highest mountain at 4810m. The walk up to the refuge was stalled halfway when we came across a man with a head injury from a falling rock. Mike called the local rescue service, and we waited with the party until the helicopter came. It was interesting to watch the helicopter 'land' on the rock outcrop and drop off two rescuers, before picking them back up with the patient.

Day 2, Wednesday, we set out from Conscrits at 4:30am to perfect weather. The traverse of the Domes de Miage was done in reverse to the direction Nik and I had done the traverse last time. That wasn't the only contrast. Where last time we had rushed through the traverse to get out of the wind and miserable weather, this time the conditions were perfect and I had one of my most enjoyable days in the hills ever. We made our way along the ridge to Refuge Durier, an unwardened hut that we had to ourselves, where we spent the afternoon eating, sleeping, and drinking tea (it really is true what they say about the English and their tea!).

Day 3 saw us leaving the hut by 2:30am. There was a bit of a breeze, but the sky was clear and conditions were again exceptional. From the hut we ascended the South Ridge of Aiguille de Bionnassay (4052m). The summit ridge, and its descent east which we then followed, was quite steep in places and was spectacular in a different kind of way to the easier ridge we had been following the day before. Mont Blanc had been in view for most of the time now, and upon reaching the Dome du Gouter, we realised we were going ok for time and kept on heading up.

What followed was a long march up to the summit. A combination of the altitude and having been out for so long made us put our heads down and 'get the task over with' rather than enjoy the moment. We only spent long enough on the summit to get a few shots, then continued down the other side to get out of the weather. However - it would be more appropriate to say that we walked INTO the weather, so after a quick chat we headed back to the summit to descend back down the 'highway' to Refuge du Gouter.

I'd hardly call it a refuge! People were packed in like sardines, and we continued our descent after paying an arm and a leg for some tea. The next hut down was full as well, and we put our weary heads down and marched on down to Nid d'Aigle for the last train down to the Valley. It was a 15+ hour day - with a total ascent of ~1800m and descent of ~2800m!

By far the highlight of the trip was the Bionnassay. Mike and I were the only two people on this beautiful mountain, and every part of the climb is a memory I will savour for a long time to come. It feels great to have been to the roof of Europe, but it wasn't that special. Similarly to the reasons why I like climbing - I like climbing mountains for reasons other than 'getting to the top'. Joining the normal route up the mountain, it was almost depressing to see the hordes of people going up and down the mountain.

However - I shouldn't end on that low note. It was a brilliant outing - a spectacular 3 days. The views that we had for so much of the journey were amazing. I could keep on saying in more ways than one how beautiful it was - but perhaps the best way of doing so is by looking at the photos!

My half dose of mountaineering - 13/07/2008

Here I am in Chamonix - with a little over 2 weeks left here I'm already starting to feel like I'll be gone before I know it. Unlike like my last visit here, the weather gods have been a little kinder and I have already been 'out in the hills' a few times.

From Marseille, I returned to the same campsite as last time, a cheaper alternative seeing as I have a car and all the equipment necessary. The next day I got straight into finding partners at the mountain office in town. Although initially concerned that I might have some trouble and end up doing a whole lot of not much, by the end of the day I'd partnered up with Stefan, a Kiwi, to climb the next day, as well as organised some climbing further down the track with Aidan, over here from the UK.

The next day I found myself back on the Aiguille du Midi cable car, this time only going to the halfway station, to climb the Arete du Papillon. The climbing was entirely on rock, and was a fantastic route that involved plenty of steeper, technical sections combined with typical ridge traversing over and around all sorts of interesting features.

Two days later Aidan and I headed up to Albert Premier hut. Our plans of climbing that day were thwarted by bad weather, and we spent the afternoon in the hut. Luckily the weather had caused a few cancellations at the hut - so we didn't have to bivi as planned. After an early start the next morning, we were back at the hut and straight to bed after the weather turned us around. We spent the day around the hut - not as dull as it sounds! The following morning (at 3am) the sky was finally clear as we headed out the door. Within half an hour a light snow started falling, but we persisted, optimistic about the forecast. The weather cleared for 5 minutes just at the right time, so that we could actually see our route - the Table Couloir (AD-) up Aiguille du Tour.

The couloir was great fun to climb, and even in the cold and low visibility, still beautiful. The sun greeted us as we reached the col, and with the recent snowfall the vista was unlike anything I've ever seen, jagged bits of golden granite covered in a pristine white sprinkling of snow and ice. The following traverse to the summit was very enjoyable, and the descent down the Swiss side very quick and easy. We then proceeded back down to the Valley - for pizza and beer.

After meeting another UK climber the following morning, Mike, we got the train up to Montenvers and walked into the Envers des Aiguilles hut. The Envers area is well known for its rock routes, and the crowd at the hut were easily distinguishable as a 'bunch of climbers' as opposed to 'I'm acclimitising for Mt Blanc' (the typical customer at Albert 1er). The next day we headed out and climbed L'opium du peuple (TD, 6a), an 11 pitch route that headed up a sub peak of Aiguille de Blatiere. The weather was perfect - not a cloud in the sky and no wind at all. The climbing was brilliant as well. The Alpes are famous for their golden granite - and I think this climb was a pretty good display of its form. It was a spectacular day, and we headed back down to Chamonix (in the rain) the next day, happy chaps.

And now I'm back in Cham, sitting out a spell of bad weather. I've checked into a gite (hostel) this time, and am glad of it. Having a fridge is such a luxury, and it's easier to meet other people and be social - as opposed to camping by myself. This evening I had dinner with a group of 10 Korean's here to climb Mont Blanc. One of the group is a 'famous mountain singer', and when a little string instrument was brought and and he was finally pursuaded to sing for us, it turned out
he truly had a beautiful voice.

The GR20 - 2/07/2008

Pissed it in!

I guess I better say more than that about it. And I should point out it's easy to say that in hindsight - it was big walk, and I'm still feeling it nearly a week after finishing.

So what was it? GR stands for Grand Randonnee, denoting a typically long, 'grand' walking trail. The GR20 traverses the mountains of Corsica - it's about 180km long and ascends/descends a total of something like 10km vertically. Depending on which source you read. Something in the 10s of 1000s of people attempt it every year - depending on which source you read!

We chose to walk from south to north, which is not the standard way. We had a vague idea that the south was less spectacular than the north, but even the first day of walking took us from sea views into spectacularly jagged granite peaks. Even with tents, you have to camp at designated refuges, and so our first evening started with buying a cold beer each. Already we started to see this would be somewhat different to wilderness walking in Australia...

To save on internet time, and so as not to encroach on Kims up and coming, detailed report - I'll keep this fairly simple. What followed day one was a further 15 days of walking, every day. An inexplicable number of vistas were seen along the way. So many that without really concentrating - it already seems like a blur!

The landscape is just so rugged and changeable down there that every day we would see so much. It was hard to grasp at times, as we looked into the distant mountains, that over the last few days we had been up and over most of the ridges we could see!

Other highlights were the Corsican cheese and saucisson, and planning as much as we could to get to the bigger 'gites' for some stages to watch Holland play in the Euro cup! Towards the end we also spent one day ascending Monte Cinto, at 2706m the highest mountain on Corsica.

And so now, nearly a week after we finished and spent some time lazing around on the beach at Ile Rousee, my knees still groan at me as soon as I start walking up stairs! Hopefully I won't be resting too long though - I should be heading back to Chamonix soon for a month or so of mountaineering.

End of the road trip - 9/06/2008

After a spell of bad weather in Chamonix, it seemed we would have a small gap and so headed up to Conscrits Hut. The hut was like nothing I'd ever seen before, a modern, 3 storey complex more like a hotel, and staffed ( = beer). The following morning, at 4am we got up and started off to traverse the Domes de Miage (PD). It was a long glacier slog to get there, but eventually we reached the Col de Miage, where we were met by very strong winds and pretty cold conditions.

The paced glacier slog turned into a strong push to traverse along the ridge and get warm and out of the wind ( = back to the hut for beer). However with the combination of the wind abating a little, and some sections being sheltered from it, we both started to thoroughly enjoy the traverse. It's a great feeling to be walking along such a ridge, often quite sharp, with a glaciated valley dropping away on one side and a forested valley on the other. We got back to the hut in shortorder and had a beer each, before descending down to the valley - a big day.

The following day Andrew arrived, Nik's brother (thus also my cousin). He hadn't been mountaineering before, so after hiring some gear the three of us got a train up to the Mer de Glace (sea of ice) glacier and walked up it to Leschaux Hut. Another staffed hut, it was a lot smaller and cosier than Conscrits, with a close up view of the North face of the Jorrasses. We had an excellent hut night, with the warden (who lives up there for several months every summer, and does not really leave) and two Belgians, made more so by plenty of red, and the sharing around of several spirits including Genepi - a local specialty.

Unfortunately the weather still hadn't cleared for much of this time at all, so after walking out we scrapped the idea of climbing something the following day, and instead headed back south to Marseille. And so ended the 'road trip' part of my travels. The weather towards the end stopped us from doing so much, but I really can't complain because in comparison the first few weeks of the trip were packed to the brim with perfection - c'est la vie.

And now after a few days in Marseille with Nik and Andrew, Nik, Michael (a work mate of Nik's who has been putting us up) and I get an overnight ferry to Corsica tonight to walk the GR20 with Kim, my brother, who's coming over from Italy and meeting us there. That is if the ferry's aren't on strike... The GR20 is a long walk that traverses the Island, and we won't be back from it until the 29th (nearly 3 weeks) - just in time for the final of the Euro Cup!

Decapitated tent! - 8/06/2008

No, it's not the name of a thrash metal band - just what happened to my tent in Chamonix last week.

So - where were we? Ah, Switzerland. Lovely Switzerland. It really is a nice place - but it turned out that for our purposes it was just too early in the climbing season. We spent a few days with Matthieu, which was great as a bit of a rest stop and a break from camping, and then left for Grindewald.

As badly as we wanted to see the mythical north face of the Eiger, which I've read so much about, the low lying weather was so bad we had no view at all. After finding out that the only mountaineering route doable without ski's (early season = too much snow!) involved a several hundred dollar train up, we spent the night under a farmers lean to up in the hills and left the next morning.

We pushed on through to Chamonix Mont Blanc, back in France, where Nik had been and climbed from before and knew that the 'maison de la montagne' would be more helpful with information. We had timed it so that we could climb something the following day - my birthday - and as luck would have it the weather looked ok and the mountain office suggested a classic route that was in condition.

And so at 8am the next morning we found ourselves on the first cable car up to Aiguille du Midi - an incredibly quick journey from c1000m up to c3800m! The weather was not perfect, and as we traveled up the pine covered hills, the only sense of movement came from the stabilising towers as they came and disappeared into the mist. And then - voila! We rose above the cloud level and Les Alpes were there - finally visable!

The route we climbed was Arete du Cosmiques (AD) - a classic Alpes route which we didn't see a soul on - one good thing about being there in early season. It was a marvellous route, with all combinations of mountaineering: climbing couloirs, traversing around gendarmes, rappelling off towers, then climbing some excellent granite and icy exit chimneys to finish - by climbing up a ladder back to the cable car station! The day continued with 'summit/birthday' champagne at the top (quite heady at 3800m - especially between two), a mulled wine at the halfway station on the way back down, then a night out with cheese fondue for dinner - good old mountain food.

The rest of our time in Cham however was punctuated by awful weather. Our next jaunt into the hills was spending 3 nights at Couvercle Hut. A great hut, with beautiful scenery - but a minor injury then poor weather meant we didn't climb anything from it. Still - it was my first view of the Grand Jorasses - which I can honestly say is the most amazing mountain I have seen. The Walker Spur on it I have often read about, and it was a special kind of feeling to see it in person.

And then, back in Cham, came the tent. The weather continued to deteriorate (even after walking out from the hut in pouring rain) and upon returning from town one day to our campsite, I found my tent had been demolished by a stray caravan roof, blown off in the windstorm. We were put up in one of the caravans (luxury!), and I spent the rest of the week internetting all things tents and insurance.

Gruezi from Switzerland - 17/05/2008

Last you'd heard we'd arrived in Arco, Italy. It was a pleasurable stay of around 5 days. Some shopping was done on the first day and a half (gear stores there were NOT as cheap as had previously been heralded) before getting out climbing. We spent a bit of time 'cragging', before tackling via Teresa up the Plache Zebratta wall. The route ascends a 400m odd slab - the longest route either of us had done before, and was a great day out. Time just rolls along, as you climb pitch after pitch, forgetting even how many had been climbed. Still - from afar the wall looks small in comparison to the massive limestone amphitheatre towering above it (a popular spot for BASE jumpers).

There have been two things that stand out to me as the highlights of this trip so far. One is the climbing, which for me includes everything from the climbing itself to the amazing vistas. The other is not the churches, castles, and their history - but the food! We've been cooking up a storm every night on my little stove, everything from salted fish rissotto's to currant and nut cous cous. No 2 minute noodles yet! We've also come to an agreement that the best way to sample the European culture as we go is by eating the local specialty! It's been a fine way to go...

It wasn't until Arco that we got our first pizza in Italy. Good - but definately not amazing. I think anywhere would be hard pressed to beat Oatley Pub pizzas. The pastas that we bought were above average. As far as eating out, I think I was most impressed with the antipasti. Including 'air dried horse meat', and some raw red meat at another place - if only I knew what cut of meat it was - but I guess thats part of the adventure. The gelatos of course are good, cheap, and regular - and spritz, a bitter orange drink goes down well on a sunny afternoon in the piazza.

Our accommodation in Arco was at a farmers hut nestled within the vineyards - a word by mouth climbers hut, where we were joined by several Czech's. I don't know if I'll ever get tired of feeding vegemite to foreigners - great fun.

From Arco we headed up into the Dolomites. Everything everyone had told us about it being too early - was true. The Dolomites were CLOSED - at least the ghost towns made it seem that way. We spend one day going for a walk, which involved a lot of time battling through snow. It was a nice change from the climbing, but we decided we needed to head south.

And so, next stop was Venice. It surprised me to realise that it was my third time there. Still, with a memory as bad as mine it was well worth the visit. There's only so many tourists (I know, we are too...) either me or Nik can take, though. Just as enjoyable as the main attractions there, was wondering the back streets of the quieter districts and getting a feel for what it actually feels like to live there, and getting a sail sized sliced of pizza and a take away beer and enjoying them by the side of a quiet canal.

From Venice we headed back to the Dolomites, to the Schiara group, which is one of the more southern groups with climbs predominately on the south face (ie less snow). After an after dark slog up 900m in elevation with enough climbing gear to build a go kart, we got to a fantastic little bivi - next to a larger 'refugio' (which for sane people is open in the summer months) it functions as an emergency winter room, and had beds, mattresses, and blankets waiting for us. Just no beer.

The next morning dawned well, and we set off to traverse Mt Schiara's ridge. The route is entirely on good tracks, or vie ferrate, where a combination of steel cables and ladders are put in place to protect the walker. It was the first I'd been on, and I loved it. It still gets very exposed, with ladders going up vertical aretes and so forth. The fun ended before we reached the ridge though - even on this south face, the snow was still there in the gullies up high, making a usually safe crossing dangerous - and so we came back down.

Being thoroughly defeated by the Dolomites, we decided to walk out the next day. Our wake up call was a helicopter, and as we sipped our coffee it started bringing loads of concrete up to drop off on the pad 10m away from us - hows the tranquility... They are in the process of buliding a telepherique up from the town at the base of valley - something that will surely be open in Summer.

And so it was time to head to Switzeland. After an afternoon driving, we spent a quick night in another vineyard before getting up and driving through Austria (coffee and strudel - not exactly a regional specialty...), then Liechtenstein and finally into Switerland, to stay with a friend of Nik's from Marseille. It's good to be not sleeping in a tent! Initial thoughts on Switwerland? Everyone is SO friendly! To paint a picture before I get on with life away from the screen, I have
been sitting here with a nice cold beer, and various cuts of smoked beef, pork - and lamb! Fresh from the local butcher, who turned out to be an abotoire as well - they invited us for a tour when we dropped by to ask for a roast (we've mainly been eating vegetarian on the road - easier to cook and keep). Of course there is swiss cheese involved as well, and some good swiss brown bread - a nice change from the white stuff in France. And as soon as I look out the window, there's no mistaking I'm in Switzerland. It really is just like the movies! Rolling green hills fade into the distance, where snowcapped mountains rear up. They're where we should be next week!

Verdon and the Mediterranean - 6/05/2008

After leaving Marseille we drove out to the Verdon Gorge, the 'grand canyon' of France. Just driving along the top of it you get to see how spectacular the place is. We spent 5 days there, in a campground full of other climbers (predominately Italians - all over the border for the May Day long weekend!). The climbing there is spectacular - most of it perched high abover the Verdon river climbing brilliant limestone. One bad weather day gave us an excuse to rest, and we also went up to the start of the gorge proper and walked through the initial system of tunnels and paths, which I believe were initially put in for a hydro scheme.

For our route to Italy we decided to go via Nice. Our first night out of Verdon was spent in a forest on the outskirts of Nice. We were surprised when a 'local resident' approached us upon arriving and questioned our purpose. He decided we must have been alright, and brought us over 2 solar powered lamps for the night. We then got a morning wake up call, with a platter of coffee, milk, sugar and two mugs!

We only spent a few hours in Nice. Typical of how we have been 'appreciating' our destinations (by eating the local specialty), we indulged in a Socca (like a pancake made with chickpea flour and pepper) and a Nicoise salad. We then went through Italy via Monaco - saw the Casino, saw a Ferrari, and left.

Another free night was spent, at Cinque Terre on the Italian mediterranean coast. A big tourist haunt, we hiked out to a nearby outcrop, and met some Latvian's who'd had the same idea as us.

The day after, last Sunday, we drove to Arco via Crema, a town that I spent 2 weeks in when on exchange from a Dutch school (long story if you don't know it) about 9 years ago. I managed to find several places that I remembered - the school, the gelato bar we used to go to after a night out, and the park we always had lunch in. It was good to trigger some memories.

And now we're in Arco. After a few 'rest' days (ie not climbing) we'll be hitting the rock this afternoon. It seems like a nice place now that the long weekend hordes have emptied out. We only plan on spending a few days here then heading north to the Dolomites, but by all accounts they're covered in snow and we may see ourselves heading south back to here.

Quick interim report - 28/04/2008

Barcelona was brilliant - a great city. Gareth and Bec joined Nik and I for an excellent 3 days of drinking, eating, walking, drinking, eating, eating, drinking and the same again the next day.

Nik and I then drove out to Montserrat - a place we both knew little about. It turned out to be more than what we'd hoped - a mass of conglomerate towers only 60km from Barcelona. The tourist sections are rolling in cash - and tourists - but the campsite there is a world apart (it's not marked on any of the signs!). Thanks to some good advice, we got an excellent few days climbing in there.

We then returned to Marseille via a night in a little Spanish village called Estana, where we walked up to the Sierra del Cadi (Spanish Pyranees) - and wished we had our mountaineering gear with us.

Back In Marseille we spent the last two days climbing two classic Calanques routes that were on our 'tick list'. Both were absolutely stellar. And tomorrow we leave again, for Verdon.

Roadtrippin' - 14/04/2008

Wow - time flies! It's been a month to the day since I left Sydney. I'm not sure whether if feels like it has been shorter or longer though...

The last two weeks, since getting back from l'Ardeche, have been spent in Marseille predominately doing a mix of climbing, organising, and cooking. Even though it's been 4 months since I've worked, it still feels like I've been working pretty hard at times! Two weeks ago, Nik and I moved from the shared apartment he was renting to a work colleagues place, who has gone away for a month. It's been a good opportunity to relax and prepare.

The following Saturday Nik and I headed out to climb La Grande Candelle, one of the landmarks of Les Calanques and something that Nik had wanted to climb for awhile. It was a great route, a narrow, winding arete, dropping away on each side, with of course the Mediterranean and the beautiful, stark Calanques area spereading out behind you.

A couple of days later I climbed Le Bec de Sormiou with Giulia. It is also one of the iconic climbing spots here - an 180m high wall, located right out on a point, where the climbing starts at sea level. It gives an amazing sense of exposure with the sea hundreds of metres below your feet. Just to add to the enjoyment of the day, the climb was in the shade the whole day and Le Mistral was blowing the whole way up - it was good to finish it for more than one reason.

I've also spent a few days 'cragging' but other than that most of the time has been spent in Marseille. It's been a good excuse to do some cooking, something which I find I enjoy the more I do it, now that I actually have time. The highlight so far has been a beef bourguignon, which thankfully lasted for several meals. I also made zucchini pickle the other day which will be great to have on the road with us. Nik also made some tomato relish.

Everything else has really been preparation for the trip, and helping 'wrap up' Marseille with Nik - who has had a fair bit to sort through after working here for a year. We've been sorting gear, pondering maps and climbing guides and trying to come up with some semblance of a plan for what to do in the next 7 weeks. There's also been the obligatory farewells, which occurred at tapas bars (I'm making the most of French culture before going to Barcelona this weekend) the last 2 weekends, and a bbq yesterday with Nik's work colleagues.

I've had some good bbq's in Australia, but the French know how to eat (and drink)! I won't even list what we ate as this is getting long as it is. Suffice it to say that an immeasurable number of courses continued for about 5 hours straight, and by the end of it I was so full I was almost in pain. Nik's work mates were a great bunch of people - I'm thankful that I got to go along and be welcomed in as I was.

We now have a rough plan for our road trip. Wednesday we leave Marseille and head to the Pyranees, then on Thursday we'll enter Barcelona. We'll be spending the weekend there with Gareth and Bec, who are flying over from the UK to join us. From Barcelona we head west to Montserrat, a climbing area spotted with conglomerate towers up to 300m high, where we'll spend a few days before heading north and back to Marseille to pick up gear, and climb a few more routes in Les Calanques that are on the 'tick list'.

From there we'll be spending the next 5 weeks going from major climbing area to major climbing area - the more we go through what we want to do the more we realise the time is too short! Essentially the trip will go - Verdon Gorge ; The Dolomites ; Switzerland (it's small enough that it's a destination in itself right?) and then to finish off, the French Alps (Chamonix).

So now the biggest issue is - will all our gear fit in the car???

Driving in Marseille, and up to L'Ardeche - 8/04/2008

I thought I'd say a few things about driving in Marseille, before I become too normalised to it. After returning to Sydney from 'the country' late last year, the traffic instantly got to me. Whilst complaining about it to some French friends, I was told 'wait until you drive in France'.

The initial drive down from Dijon on the Autoroute was a breeze, a demonstration of how people SHOULD drive on a highway. Coming into Marseille was a different story. Nik had advised me to park illegally outside his apartment on arrival - because that's what everyone else does. At least on weekends anyway - when the parking inspectors (that is to say - the riot police) are on their days off. The city is a seething mass of small cars parked with centimetres to spare. As Nik advised me 'people actually use they're bumper bars to park here', which I've seen a number of times.

I find I have to look on some events from a third person view to appreciate how comical it is, at least compared to the norm in Australia. While walking up the street a few days ago, I saw a car driving along then bump up and down and continue without slowing. I assumed there must have been a bump or rut in the road, but upon closer inspection they'd gone over a traffic island from the lane that was meant to turn left. One favourite is the road with the lane where arrows are painted in both directions. Indicators almost always indicate an out-of-towner. Two wheeled travelers rarely heed which lane goes what direction - a gap is a gap. The traffic lights are nearly impossible to see - it's very easy to drive through a red unknowingly!

I find I've adapted fairly well to the 'style' of driving here, and a certain part of me enjoys it. Traffic becomes a singular, continuing entity that you're a part of, as opposed to a mass of big, individual objects as in Aus. I also like the size of the cars. Perhaps the street sizes take away any choice in the matter, but 90% of the cars here are small, and in my opinion it's bloody smart.

Last week I took the car up the the Ardeche to meet a friend of a friend staying in an old little farmhous, 'Le Cros'. It was great to get out of the city - driving through the gorges to get to Le Cros was a pleasure to the eyes. The house is quite high up, and there was still plenty of snow around. My hosts, residents of North America, were fantastic and I had a great couple of days there walking, reading, drinking wine by the fireplace, and also got a day of climbing in when the sun finally came out.

On the return journey I stayed away from the Autoroute and drove back south via the Ardeche Gorge - another wonderful drive through dozens of quaint little towns nestled within valleys, then the steep, deep, limestone gorge proper. It would be even nicer enjoying such an area from a more laid back mode of transport - a bike? A boat? I really loved the area - but I also realise it's more or less my first and only trip outside of Marseille since being here, and I'm looking forward to seeing what the other regions offer, and of course the other countries!

One week in - 25/03/2008

My first impressions of Paris were from the train ride in from the airport - a lot of graffiti by the train tracks and some ordinary looking suburbs - a bit like Sydney! Of course though, the centre of Paris is completely different. I spent a few hours there, waiting for a train, in which time I stumbled upon the Bastille, and then found my way to Notre Dame de Paris. Given that I'd just been travelling for over 24 hours, and was merely 'waiting for a train', it really wasn't enough time to even get an impression of Paris. I'm looking forward to spending a bit more time there further down the track (when it's warmer).

I was welcomed to Dijon by some family of a friend, and it was great to come into a 'homely' atmosphere. Naturally, lunch followed - local pinot noir, cheese, bread, salad (dressed in dijon mustard), roast pork (marinated in dijon mustartd!) and plenty of other goodies. I had come to Dijon to pick up a car, so after lunch I drove it into town under the supervision of Christine and Phillipe - definitely a little strange driving on the right (wrong, that is) side of the road.

Dijon is a beautiful little city. It just has a vibe about it that made me feel very comfortable and enormously happy to finally be here, on the other side of the World. It's difficult to explain I guess - not only the old buildings but also the social atmosphere combine to create something that I've never experienced in Australia.

The drive down to Marseille on Sunday went better than anticipated. The highways (autoroutes) here are excellent, although it did come to around 34E in tolls (AU$50 or so?). In Marseille I got to Nik's place without too much trouble, and we got to sitting down with a bottle of red and some cheese and a baguette. It was good to be here!

So this is where I've been for the past week. Nik is living in a flat near the centre of Marseille, with two flat mates. He's still working during the week, so I've just been slowly adapting. It's been a little difficult. Not being able to speak French (which is really just a string of sounds ending in uh, put together) I guess is the biggest hindrance. Even though I'm ecstatic to be here, there have been a few times when I just haven't wanted to leave the flat. I mostly am just whinging though - I'm so lucky to be in the situation that I am. Compared to say, Nik, who had to sort himself out when he arrived a year ago. And I do recall a show on the ABC not long before I left about a 17 year old girl going to Calcutta to partake in voluntary aid work, and how difficult she found it when she got here - it really takes an amazing person to do that, and in comparison coming to Europe is an absolute breeze.

Marseille? A certain travel guide calls it 'Seething, Sultry Marseille' which I think is pretty apt. It's a world apart from Dijon, and I found that a negative thing at first. After spending more time here though, and walking around all different parts of the city, the more I soak in, the more I like it. It's not somewhere I'd want to live, but it has a soul. The harbour has been used as a major port since 600BC. The French national anthem originates from a chant the Marseilles sang in the 18th century on the way to Paris to support the Revolution (no I don't know anything about history, that's straight out of a book...). People from Marseille don't call themselves French - they're Marseilles.

I've been out climbing a few times now. On Marseille's doorstep lie 'Les Calanque', one of the best climbing destinations in Europe. My first climb, on unfamiliar limestone and after not having climbed for a month, was a 4 pitch route above Morgiou (or, 'Paradise' as someone I climbed with called it). It was a beautiful route but I still felt I needed to get used to the rock. Two days later I headed out with someone else, and did a couple of one pitch routes right near Morgiou. They were excellent - but a very strong wind (Le Mistral) was coming in so we called it quits.

Over the Easter weekend (3 days here), Nik, Michael, and I headed out to the En Vau area of Les Calanques. On Saturday we climbed a brilliant route that involved 3 great pitches onto the top of a detached pinnacle, before downclimbing and stepping across a gut wrenching (in a good way) void to finish up the main cliff. After descending we retreated to a little hut perched above the ocean, to a dinner of cous cous and canned Cassoulet (duck, goose, and pork sausage stew). On Sunday the weather was still very windy, so we headed back down to the protected En Vau and climbed a few single pitches. I'm yet to climb a long route directly above the ocean, but there are plenty of them here and I plan on doing so before I leave.

Today I'll be driving up to the Vaucluse region, where I plan on spending a few days with a friend of a friend in a remote cottage they have there, maybe climbing (the weather is still looking fairly average - there's been snow over a lot of France), maybe painting, I will see.

And finally, I'm off - 13/03/2008

Finally, I head for France tomorrow. That's not to say I haven't enjoyed my time here in Sydney, but it seems like I've been waiting for this moment for awhile. Well, 3 months actually - that's how long ago I finished work!

Mid February saw me fly down to Hobart, Tasmania, to meet up with Tom & Jiri for some walking. Tom's theory of exponential increases in organisational difficulty with increased numbers in the party came into full force with this trip. After some 63 changes in plan, it was decided Tom and I would walk, somewhere, for 8 days, while Jiri would only join us for 4, as he had to get back to Sydney for a job interview.

Our trip started from Derwent Bridge, from which we ascended onto the Travellers Range, after some road bashing and forest walking. By lunch time we reached Travellers Rest Lagoon, which was extremely dry. Jiri and I, neither of whom had been to Tasmania before, were both surprised to see such a barren landscape after all the tales you hear of Tasmania. (I believe that most of Tassie's rainfall occurs on the West coast)

Once on the Travellers Range proper, the landscape changed dramatically. The Range is essentially a high plateau, perched above Lake St Clair, dotted by pristine tarns (lakes). The following days were spent between scrub bashes from hell, to perfect lunch and camping spots by the sides of these beautiful tarns. It was a brilliant end to the day to go for a dip in the cool, clean water.

Day 3 however, I woke up with a sore knee. Not too unusual given the circumstances. It progressively worsened through the day, though, with the 'highlight' being the descent (a lot better track than anticipated) off the Range and onto the Overland Track. Oh what fun - crowds of guided walkers after 3 days of solace.

The following morning, after Jiri had already left to get the ferry back across Lake St Clair, Tom and I agreed we would be best to follow, given that my knee was not improving. As all good adventures go, that night saw us staying at a most excellent establishment in Hobart (the New Sydney) drinking excellent beer, supplemented by a great steak. Still, it didn't have a patch on the dehydrated fish pie from the previous evening...

Flights were changed, and after a day in Hobart checking out the famous heated wall at the botanical gardens, and sampling some scallop pies, I made way back to Sydney. Here ends the stories, really, as all I've been doing since is whinging about my knee and finalising which music library I take with me overseas.

Well, that's not entirely true. A week after Tassie a few of us Doomies headed out canyoning for "the burial of the life of the boy" - ie, Gareth's bucks party. The cold was biting, the VB tinnies warming, and the pink tu-tu very entertaining. A great day out, followed by a fake moustache filled Wednesday night in the city - gold. Of course the main event, the wedding of Gareth and Bec the following weekend, was also a great event for which I'm grateful that I had the chance to go.

And so tomorrow, I depart for France. I'll only be in Paris for a few hours, before jumping on a TGV (a 300km/hr train? surely not! they make those? wonder when we'll get one over here...) east to Dijon, where I'll be lucky enough to pick up a friends car to use over the next couple of months. Sunday will be a crash course in driving on the wrong side of the road down to Marseille, where I will meet up with my cousin, the good Dr Nik.

Rough plan at the moment? Drive to Spain. Drive back to France. Drive around the Alps - Italy, Switzerland, back to France. Climbing in between. I'll let you know how it goes!

The beginning - 8/02/2008

I finished up work about a week before Christmas, which gave me plenty of time to move all my stuff down from Armidale to Sydney. The next few weeks were spent enjoying the festive season. After the family Christmas celebrations I headed down to the Falls Festival (Lorne, Victoria) for 3 days of general unhealthiness and good times.

This was all good training for a climbing trip to New Zealand. In mid January Iain and I flew over to Christchurch and after a couple of buses and an enormous shopping bill, found ourselves in a helicopter flying from Franz Josef to Centennial Hut, an alpine hut in the Westland NP.

We spent the first 6 nights based in Centennial Hut, then after moving to Pioneer Hut spent another 4 nights there. The snow conditions were rather average. All the warm weather had melted a lot of the access routes to peaks in the region. We still got quite a few pleasurable climbs in though. We finished the trip with a 16+ hour day climbing Mt Lendenfeld, one of the 3000+m peaks on the Main Divide, the first of such (in NZ) for both Iain and I.

Despite not climbing some of the peaks we would have liked to, just being up 'in the hills' is pleasure enough. Staying in the huts, at NZ$15 a night, is to me better than any 5 star hotel could be. And then there's the food. Always a highlight! Even the bad weather days are worthwhile. We spent one day in Pioneer Hut with gale force winds and heavy rain, the hut was shaking on its foundations every now and then. We even had to use a piss bucket in the vestibule as outside wasn't an option! What I like about this though is the simplicity that life boils down to, eat, sleep, read, cuppa tea, cards, eat, sleep etc etc. Taking away all the external factors that shape our everyday lives (which I learn all about being in Sydney) things become so simple.

After leaving the hills, we grabbed a ride with Harrison and Jerome, two American's that we met in Pioneer Hut. On the way to Christchurch, we spent a day at Castle Hill, an amazing limestone bouldering/climbing area between Arthurs Pass and Chch. The shape of the rocks are amazing, like something that has come from outer space and landed on earth. It's an experience just to walk amongst all the rocks. There was also some great climbing, and it was a perfect way to wind down in the sun after 10 days in the hills.

After this Iain and I parted ways until the end of the trip, and I hitched down to Wanaka with Harrison. Wanaka was another perfect 'wind down' place, a relaxed spot in a beautiful setting. I spent 3 nights here: got out climbing on two days at the local crags, then got a bus back to Chch to meet up with Iain and jump on a flight back to Sydney.

Which brings us to now. I won't bore you with the kind of things I'm doing to organise the 'big' trip, which is also what I'll be doing for most of the time that I do have left in Sydney. I'm heading down to Tasmania next week for 10 days, for an 8 day (hopefully not longer - as the return flight is booked!) walk across the Eldon Range in Lake St Clair NP. After that I'll have two more weeks before I depart for France, on March 14th.