I'm back. I'm here. I'm alive and well......
Last Thursday was hard. I left Kalymnos.
Themi and Kalotina were there to see me off and we were all sad. I'd been there 2 months and we had become used to a nice normality, a picture of life together. The weather was good, the climbers gave the place a nice buzz and it was all SO nice. The idea of life there is good.
Themi at Noufarou. A lovely pic from Selina Chen :)
Themi and Lloyd, sunset at Symplegades
However, there's the prickly subject of the motohome and what to do with it..... There's also the feeling of unfinished business re the road trip and climbing. Its like I'm split in two sometimes. Wanting to keep Themi happy, and both sides of me happy is really difficult. Half of me wants to stay, and half of me needs to continue something of the trip. Maybe a compromise? I think if it wasn't for the van and the need to sort it out, the money tied up in it, and the fact that as I suspected, I'd left the water pump on and the light switch on, then I might have left it and stayed.
Sitting in one place and not moving for long periods is not good for anything, especially cars, so I had to go back and sort things out. If I left it there it would rot, the tyres would go bad, it would still need an MOT, and I'd still need to insure it, meanwhile its value would decrease and right now there's around 13k tied up in it. Money I could use for other things.
Thursday night was surreal. I spent the night with 3 strangers in a dorm at City Circus, in a bunk above Luigi, the loudest snoring American I've ever heard. I hardly slept at all. We all met up at the happy hour in the hostel and went out for a wine and some chat before hitting the sack. Luigi slept well.
Athens. The view from the rooftop terrace.
Friday morning there was a national strike in Greece so 3 of us shared a cab to the airport and after a nice sleep on the flight to Barcelona, I caught the shuttle bus to T2, the train to Barcelona Sants station and then the coast train down to St Vicence De Calders. From there I dragged my reluctant suitcase the short walk to the van, dreading what I might find...
The first piece of good news - the place was open! I waved at the girl at the desk and pointed into the compound and continued to drag the case over the rough ground to Sparky.... He looked ok, 4 inflated tyres, all windows in tact. So far so good. I opened the cab doors and drew back the curtains. it was hot and I needed the breeze to cool him down. Opening the side door I saw the bag of rubbish I'd forgotten to take when I left. Surprisingly the smell wasn't that bad but in the bag the mouldy contents was disgusting.
I checked the engine battery. Looked ok :) The oil levels were good too.
Then I packed up the solar panels and got everything ready to go. I sat in the drivers seat with the keys in the ignition for a long few seconds before turning the key. Was I ready for this? Was I really about to do this again....? I've left a sunny Kalymnos, a gorgeous women and here I am about to set off alone again with my dodgy elbow. What am I doing!!!??
He started first time!!! Happy day!
I drove down the gravel track to reception, paid the bill, filled up the water tank and then hosed the van down to remove 2 months of Spanish dust. After a quick pit stop to fill up with fuel (1.17 euros...So cheap) I set off again. The brakes were noisy, sitting still is bad for so many things on a van this size but after a few kilometres things began to settle down and he felt like the van I knew.
Siurana. Pre chopper!!
It felt strange to be driving again. It felt like I'd been transported back 2 months. The only difference was it was a lot warmer now. The idea of climbing through the winter in good conditions was a good one, but now it felt pretty hot and I'd certainly be looking for shady crags to climb on. I had talked about heading north, and this now looks to be a plan A of sorts.... But first to Conudella De Montsant and a visit to Pep for some resoling on 2 pairs of climbing shoes, and some restocking of supplies at the excellent Repsol garage there.
Up at the Siurana car park, again! I found a nice level spot and parked up then jumped in the back to start tidying things up, spring cleaning the inside, removing the winter quilt and sorting out the storage under the bed. All the windows were opened and the under bed outer door was open too while I sorted out boxes and climbing shoes and all the other odds and sods.
I heard the distant rumble of a helicopter. I know that sound well after years at Aberdeen. It grew louder. And louder..... There it was, a little yellow rescue helicopter. It took a few seconds to realise that he was about to land here, on the car park, and as he descended in a deafening crescendo, spraying dust and stones everywhere, I ran around trying to close doors and windows as fast as I could.
Sparky was buffeted by the down draft and covered with small stones and dust again, some of which had got inside and into the under bed storage. It wasn't too bad considering. The pilot very nicely came over to apologise and said there was another chopper coming soon and would I like to move.
Too fuckin right mate!!!!
I drove sparky to the other end of the car park, taking shelter behind a very smart Spanish motorhome.... I aint daft, and we all watched as another, slightly bigger yellow chopper swung into land. More dust.
As I expected a small crowd of rubber necks started to gather as a casualty was transferred from one to the other, lots of pictures and videos were being taken while I pottered about collecting gravel from inside the van and sweeping the dust of the dash board and all the surfaces inside the van. After a while, once the dust had settled (!) everyone left bar 3 or 4 vans staying the night and all became normal again. I hadn't heard from my friend Cioaran and was a little worried but I thought I heard the casualty speaking Spanish and later found out that it was a local climber that had fallen from the lower off. An all too common accident these days.
So that was Friday May 1st. A national holiday in Spain. Yesterday I was in Kalymnos with my Greek family, and today I'm alone in a hot and sticky Spain, not sure what I'm doing, where I'm going and how Themi will cope with her man disappearing again. It's hard, for both of us, but especially on her with no definitive end date in sight and no real plan as yet, and this was always part of my 'dream road trip'. I'm sort of used to being on my own now. Sometimes I like it. Sometimes I don't. Hence the split personality. Things have changed now though, I feel torn by my desire to return to Kalymnos and the need to sort everything out. It's going to take a little time to combine a bit of climbing with selling the van and heading back to Greece.
For my part, and my thoughts.... Its a bit hot now to continue here so once I have my climbing shoes back, I'm thinking of going north toward the mountains, to climb along the way, then maybe west to Taverga and the ferry to Portsmouth...? Or maybe up through France with the odd day climbing there along the way. Then into the Uk for a little summer trad before seeing the folks and selling the van.....
There are uncertainties, who knows what life will throw in my path as I head north so any plans and ideas are exactly that and I need to take each day as it comes.
Being with Themi these past 2 months has been wonderful and I've continued to learn from her about how the past needs to be released, about focusing too much on the future........ Both of these things have been ruining my 'present'. There's a saying that goes something like..... while making plans for the future life passes you by, or along those lines anyway. I know for sure that my past has been hard to let go and has in fact been holding me back, I guess that's part of my personality though.
I'm not sure what good it does, if any, but thanks to her I can see it now and understand that I need to let things go. For good, somehow. It's hard to realise sometimes that while I learn about 'me' and put her through the ups and downs this process inevitably involves, her resolve and patience grows weaker. She often says that she hasn't so much got a man, more like she's adopted a third child and I can see what she means... I miss her very much and it feels weird to be apart now.
So..... I'm here again. I climbed yesterday!!!
At Siurana no less.... I did 6 routes with Cioran, including an awesome steep juggy 7a. At first I said to Ciro, "just strip it, it's too hard for my elbow and I have to be sensible mate ok".. But when he said it was SO good he'd happily do it again if I tried it and felt sore, in a flash I said "OK!!!!!!".
It was awesome too. I cruised up to the techy bit in the scoop below the massive overhanging flake, made some nice thin crimpy moves to the clip, then took a few deep breaths before launching up the flake to a brilliant rest an a ledge at the top. Amazing. However, Ciro made the top section look easy and I found myself getting pumped trying to lay back up a small corner. I didn't want to blow it now!!!!! I managed to find an excellent finger jam and make a move right so I could find a way that suited my weak arms and eventually found a high left foot smear to rock up on, and the guts to make the move! Clipping the chain was a wonderful feeling.
Awesome! Ciro on the top section.
Yes I'd probably hung on the right arm a bit too tight but I'd felt no pain, only an ache, and anyway it does need to be worked. The mental side of climbing and the fear I now have that I might do more damage to the elbow, or slow down the healing process is a very powerful thing. As always Ciro was very positive and encouraging, I like climbing with him. We had a good day and once back at the van we both had a good stretch session and I worked on the elbow rehab.
Rehab!
While in Kalymnos I met a Spanish couple, Pablo and Marina. Pablo and I climbed for a day together at Illiada sector. They live in Margalef and said when I got back to Spain to pop in for a visit, so after climbing with Ciro, I legged it over to their place for a lovely evening meal and some good chat. I bought a bottle of wine over with me, as you do, only to find they don't drink wine or beer, so it was with a heavy heart ( ;) ) that I forced myself to neck half the bottle on my own... I may have talked. A lot... haha. They have a lovely flat (and the greenest fridge contents I've ever seen!) over looking the river and the camping ground where Sparky is currently parked. Literally a 5 minuet stroll. Later on we're all going for a shady climb along the valley on some of Margalef's famous pockets.
Bring on the 6's!!!!
Pablo and Marina
Last Thursday was hard. I left Kalymnos.
Themi and Kalotina were there to see me off and we were all sad. I'd been there 2 months and we had become used to a nice normality, a picture of life together. The weather was good, the climbers gave the place a nice buzz and it was all SO nice. The idea of life there is good.
However, there's the prickly subject of the motohome and what to do with it..... There's also the feeling of unfinished business re the road trip and climbing. Its like I'm split in two sometimes. Wanting to keep Themi happy, and both sides of me happy is really difficult. Half of me wants to stay, and half of me needs to continue something of the trip. Maybe a compromise? I think if it wasn't for the van and the need to sort it out, the money tied up in it, and the fact that as I suspected, I'd left the water pump on and the light switch on, then I might have left it and stayed.
Sitting in one place and not moving for long periods is not good for anything, especially cars, so I had to go back and sort things out. If I left it there it would rot, the tyres would go bad, it would still need an MOT, and I'd still need to insure it, meanwhile its value would decrease and right now there's around 13k tied up in it. Money I could use for other things.
Thursday night was surreal. I spent the night with 3 strangers in a dorm at City Circus, in a bunk above Luigi, the loudest snoring American I've ever heard. I hardly slept at all. We all met up at the happy hour in the hostel and went out for a wine and some chat before hitting the sack. Luigi slept well.
Friday morning there was a national strike in Greece so 3 of us shared a cab to the airport and after a nice sleep on the flight to Barcelona, I caught the shuttle bus to T2, the train to Barcelona Sants station and then the coast train down to St Vicence De Calders. From there I dragged my reluctant suitcase the short walk to the van, dreading what I might find...
The first piece of good news - the place was open! I waved at the girl at the desk and pointed into the compound and continued to drag the case over the rough ground to Sparky.... He looked ok, 4 inflated tyres, all windows in tact. So far so good. I opened the cab doors and drew back the curtains. it was hot and I needed the breeze to cool him down. Opening the side door I saw the bag of rubbish I'd forgotten to take when I left. Surprisingly the smell wasn't that bad but in the bag the mouldy contents was disgusting.
I checked the engine battery. Looked ok :) The oil levels were good too.
Then I packed up the solar panels and got everything ready to go. I sat in the drivers seat with the keys in the ignition for a long few seconds before turning the key. Was I ready for this? Was I really about to do this again....? I've left a sunny Kalymnos, a gorgeous women and here I am about to set off alone again with my dodgy elbow. What am I doing!!!??
He started first time!!! Happy day!
I drove down the gravel track to reception, paid the bill, filled up the water tank and then hosed the van down to remove 2 months of Spanish dust. After a quick pit stop to fill up with fuel (1.17 euros...So cheap) I set off again. The brakes were noisy, sitting still is bad for so many things on a van this size but after a few kilometres things began to settle down and he felt like the van I knew.
It felt strange to be driving again. It felt like I'd been transported back 2 months. The only difference was it was a lot warmer now. The idea of climbing through the winter in good conditions was a good one, but now it felt pretty hot and I'd certainly be looking for shady crags to climb on. I had talked about heading north, and this now looks to be a plan A of sorts.... But first to Conudella De Montsant and a visit to Pep for some resoling on 2 pairs of climbing shoes, and some restocking of supplies at the excellent Repsol garage there.
Up at the Siurana car park, again! I found a nice level spot and parked up then jumped in the back to start tidying things up, spring cleaning the inside, removing the winter quilt and sorting out the storage under the bed. All the windows were opened and the under bed outer door was open too while I sorted out boxes and climbing shoes and all the other odds and sods.
I heard the distant rumble of a helicopter. I know that sound well after years at Aberdeen. It grew louder. And louder..... There it was, a little yellow rescue helicopter. It took a few seconds to realise that he was about to land here, on the car park, and as he descended in a deafening crescendo, spraying dust and stones everywhere, I ran around trying to close doors and windows as fast as I could.
Sparky was buffeted by the down draft and covered with small stones and dust again, some of which had got inside and into the under bed storage. It wasn't too bad considering. The pilot very nicely came over to apologise and said there was another chopper coming soon and would I like to move.
Too fuckin right mate!!!!
I drove sparky to the other end of the car park, taking shelter behind a very smart Spanish motorhome.... I aint daft, and we all watched as another, slightly bigger yellow chopper swung into land. More dust.
As I expected a small crowd of rubber necks started to gather as a casualty was transferred from one to the other, lots of pictures and videos were being taken while I pottered about collecting gravel from inside the van and sweeping the dust of the dash board and all the surfaces inside the van. After a while, once the dust had settled (!) everyone left bar 3 or 4 vans staying the night and all became normal again. I hadn't heard from my friend Cioaran and was a little worried but I thought I heard the casualty speaking Spanish and later found out that it was a local climber that had fallen from the lower off. An all too common accident these days.
So that was Friday May 1st. A national holiday in Spain. Yesterday I was in Kalymnos with my Greek family, and today I'm alone in a hot and sticky Spain, not sure what I'm doing, where I'm going and how Themi will cope with her man disappearing again. It's hard, for both of us, but especially on her with no definitive end date in sight and no real plan as yet, and this was always part of my 'dream road trip'. I'm sort of used to being on my own now. Sometimes I like it. Sometimes I don't. Hence the split personality. Things have changed now though, I feel torn by my desire to return to Kalymnos and the need to sort everything out. It's going to take a little time to combine a bit of climbing with selling the van and heading back to Greece.
For my part, and my thoughts.... Its a bit hot now to continue here so once I have my climbing shoes back, I'm thinking of going north toward the mountains, to climb along the way, then maybe west to Taverga and the ferry to Portsmouth...? Or maybe up through France with the odd day climbing there along the way. Then into the Uk for a little summer trad before seeing the folks and selling the van.....
There are uncertainties, who knows what life will throw in my path as I head north so any plans and ideas are exactly that and I need to take each day as it comes.
Being with Themi these past 2 months has been wonderful and I've continued to learn from her about how the past needs to be released, about focusing too much on the future........ Both of these things have been ruining my 'present'. There's a saying that goes something like..... while making plans for the future life passes you by, or along those lines anyway. I know for sure that my past has been hard to let go and has in fact been holding me back, I guess that's part of my personality though.
I'm not sure what good it does, if any, but thanks to her I can see it now and understand that I need to let things go. For good, somehow. It's hard to realise sometimes that while I learn about 'me' and put her through the ups and downs this process inevitably involves, her resolve and patience grows weaker. She often says that she hasn't so much got a man, more like she's adopted a third child and I can see what she means... I miss her very much and it feels weird to be apart now.
So..... I'm here again. I climbed yesterday!!!
At Siurana no less.... I did 6 routes with Cioran, including an awesome steep juggy 7a. At first I said to Ciro, "just strip it, it's too hard for my elbow and I have to be sensible mate ok".. But when he said it was SO good he'd happily do it again if I tried it and felt sore, in a flash I said "OK!!!!!!".
It was awesome too. I cruised up to the techy bit in the scoop below the massive overhanging flake, made some nice thin crimpy moves to the clip, then took a few deep breaths before launching up the flake to a brilliant rest an a ledge at the top. Amazing. However, Ciro made the top section look easy and I found myself getting pumped trying to lay back up a small corner. I didn't want to blow it now!!!!! I managed to find an excellent finger jam and make a move right so I could find a way that suited my weak arms and eventually found a high left foot smear to rock up on, and the guts to make the move! Clipping the chain was a wonderful feeling.
Yes I'd probably hung on the right arm a bit too tight but I'd felt no pain, only an ache, and anyway it does need to be worked. The mental side of climbing and the fear I now have that I might do more damage to the elbow, or slow down the healing process is a very powerful thing. As always Ciro was very positive and encouraging, I like climbing with him. We had a good day and once back at the van we both had a good stretch session and I worked on the elbow rehab.
While in Kalymnos I met a Spanish couple, Pablo and Marina. Pablo and I climbed for a day together at Illiada sector. They live in Margalef and said when I got back to Spain to pop in for a visit, so after climbing with Ciro, I legged it over to their place for a lovely evening meal and some good chat. I bought a bottle of wine over with me, as you do, only to find they don't drink wine or beer, so it was with a heavy heart ( ;) ) that I forced myself to neck half the bottle on my own... I may have talked. A lot... haha. They have a lovely flat (and the greenest fridge contents I've ever seen!) over looking the river and the camping ground where Sparky is currently parked. Literally a 5 minuet stroll. Later on we're all going for a shady climb along the valley on some of Margalef's famous pockets.
Bring on the 6's!!!!
Pablo and Marina
