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So
there we were, myself and Claudia, heading off for twoweeks of climbing
and climbing, and climbing. After a disgustingly early start and
a fair share of ryanair incompetence we caught our cheap flights
to Paris beauvais, paid an extortionate 10euros to get to the arse
end of paris and caught a metro to the gare de lyons, where our
train to fontainebleu awaited our arrival - 14euros return.
The
campsite (one of them) is near a village called Barbizon, and is
refreshingly FREE. Thatīs because its a field with a tap in it and
lots of smelly climbers. We got a taxi because weīre lazy and that
cost 20ish between us, but you can get a bus and then walk for an
hour or so, or else hitch.
You
can get food and stuff in the village or the HUGE supermarket if
you have a car. the village isnīt very expensive, but if yóuīre
going on the cheap you can stock up in the supermarket down the
road from the train station.
So,
there we were, in bas cuvier looking for boulders to climb - it
may sound a bit silly but its whats done over there. So we got lost
on the way to the boulder field, but made it eventually. There is
stuff there for everyone to climb, it really doesnīt matter what
grade youīre climbing when you go there, you only get better. Unless
something tragic happens.......
so
there was I standing on the ground, boulder mat in front of me and
Claudia above me, when suddenly the situation changed. The boulder
mat stayed in the same place, but claudia made a speedy change of
location, and - remarkably - a hungarian doctor ran over from one
of the nearby boulders. After a bit of waiting, some chocolate and
coca cola, we madea quick visit to fontainebleu hospital, discovered
that the Austrian mountaineering council insure their members against
this sort of thing. It really is amazing what Hungarian doctors
are capable of knowing.
To
cut a long story short, Claudiaīs knees and climbing had a bit of
a tiff. A day or so later, Glynn and Kev Nash arrived to see if
they could conquer the wonders of the famous font. They did, mostly,
while I wandered around asking people for corkscrews and Claudia
learnt to walk again with very fashionable blue crutches. We never
had any problem hitching lifts. Maybe the great outdoors should
sell lightweight collapsable crutches for waving at passing cars.
By
the end of the week Claudiaīs knees were much better and I was the
one squeaking in pain and wondering where all the skin on my fingers
had gone. So off we went to the next stage of trip.
El
Chorro. Practicalities: fly to malaga, then get a train to malaga
renfe, then a train to el chorro for a couple of euros. cars might
be handy, but really arenīt needed. Or if your flights are in late,
you can get a taxi for 50 is, which is cheaper than staying in malaga
if theres a few of you, but more expensive than sleeping in the
airport. the campsite is very near the crags, and costs 3per person
and 1.65 per tent. Therīse a pool, showers, glorious showers, and
a very cheap bar. There are at least three shops in the village,
but you really have to look for them. One is beside the trainstation
but the other two are further up the road. Just follow the signs
and knock on the dorr when you get there. There is a climbing shop
in el chorro which selss all sorts of useful things. The grades
are fairly wide ranging, but if youīre not heading towards 6a, you
might get a bit bored. Costs are pretty cheap, even without the
very cheap supermarkets. Depending on your preferences, you can
feed three or four people for a fiver or so. Things like chorisso
and pistachios are a bit more expensive. I have no idea why that
is relevant. What is very relevant is that it is by far the best
idea to bring a 60m, if not a 65 or 70m rope. It makes life a lot
easier.
So
now for the gossip. Myself, Claudia and Carole had two days before
11 blokes descended on our peaceful existence. Once that happened,
the mayhem began. The bar began to stock up in advance, and stopped
giving us their glasses, taking a lesson from the buttery and providing
plastic ones. On one of the first nights, all the lads decided that
they had to eat vast quantities of meat leading to kev nash saying
please glynn, not more suasage.
Paddy
clarke, hahaha, was rendered speechless by a burger. Iīm not sure
if that was before or after he nearly set the place on fire, but
it was definately before declan nearly blew the place up and Keith,
the taxman, burnt all his manly leg hair off. Some of the less brave
among us went for the restaurant option. sensible choice.
Another
night, Kev and Glynn took up a bouldering challenge from a local,
and swung from roofbeams, taking bits of the building down when
they came.
Carlos
and Ian spent most of their time seeing the wonderful sights that
Andalucia has to offer. Churches, towns, pueblos, that kind of thing
and if you are taking a car, bring a good map, the sign posts are
crap apparently.
The
bolts are pretty good though, as Kev Moroney found out when he took
what has been described asa whipper, but he persevered and was climbing
in fine fettle by the end of the week.
A trad
rack is needed for quite a few routes, but if you want to stick
to bolts, there are more than enough climbs to keep you happy. Even
Colyday engaged in some vertical activity, sometimes accompanied
by the melodious sound of a frenchman playing irish trad on an icelandic
flute - ok I made up the icelandic bit.
Oh
I forgot be mention that deccie did his infamous iceclimbing dance
and got us all invited to a the barmanīs birthday party. We all
made complete fools of our drunken selves and had īsure the great
craic altogetherī.
Between
us we managed to visit a good few different crags, and the general
consensus seemed to be that albercones and escalare arabe were the
best. Albercones is about two minutes from the campsite, and Escalare
Arabe is about an hours walk away, or 20 minutes by car up a crap
road.Some of the routes were boulder problems, of the one move wonder
variety, while a few of the longer ones were sustained delights
of the delicious kind. the first 5, or 6, canīt recall, pitches
of amtrax are a must. Its fully bolted with hanging belay points
until it very obviously isnīt and you can abseil down then if you
arenīt up for climbing trad on what looks like loose rock - noone
did the last two pitches so I donīt know what they are like, except
that they arenīt bolted.
I think
thatīs all for now folks, If Iīve forgotten anything important just
hit me sometime.
Ger.

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