The love affair with High Tor continues although the honeymoon period will soon pass as the majority of challenges that remain are outside my comfort zone and if truth be told, my skill set. There's a handful of routes I'd like to finish off, and a couple of the fully bolted offerings should offer some respite to my perma-pumped calf muscles. However, I have to say I've been disappointed by a few of the last routes ticked. Many have big reputations and are firmly set in history yet I've found the climbing of average interest with seemingly less quality available than at the humble level of E2/3 and surprisingly, in parts, a greater degree of polish!

Yet, I shouldn't complain too much. I'm happy to be progressing at a steady pace (one much more rapid than I could reasonably expect from any other discipline), even if in reality my target might have been viewed by some as a reasonable starting point.

In between the showers we salvaged another day by climbing on the newly (ish) bolted right wing. Some of it is in typical style; bolted when realistically it should have been left to fall down, yet between these routes are a few hidden gems. A fingery 7a, an E5 with the worst lower off I've seen (tiny tree, loose block in front, sling around both), and another 7a prow. These are worth bearing in mind for an easy day or for somewhere likely to be shielded from showers elsewhere in the Peak. It should be noted that there appear to be nesting birds on a number of routes, anything with a large crack to be precise. Rock quality is generally poor surrounding the 1st bolts, beyond this things firm up.

It seems the summer is fast approaching and I'm looking forward to venturing further afield on my ticklist (Matlock Bath only retains interest for a short period). First up will undoubtedly be Gogarth where T-Rex and Flytrap eagerly await my flounderings (cam sizes for the first much appreciated?). Beyond that the Axe must feature highly; searching Google for photos last night I came across a few stunning pictures (one graces the cover of Ground Ups North Wales Select) which left be both nervous and inspired.

I made a rash decision with camera's this week but I'll make sure to get some worthy shots before revealing too much.

Klanks

...or 'Calanques' [if you choose to pronounce (and spell) it correctly] is located twixt Marseille and Cassis on the fantastically warm Cote D'Azur. This holiday was picked tactically; firstly we hadn't left the country in all too long, secondly, 'Calanques' is one of the few areas whilst we were living in a van that people kept referring to, which we hadn't really heard anything else before (Ablon being another) and finally, we have (had) big aims for later on in the year (Yosemite).

Before venturing off, we finally purchased a decent compact for our newly found multi-pitch fetish. The Panasonic Lumix DMC-LX5 is quite frankly the nuts, buy an S95 if you don't fancy a hot shoe, if you do look no further (quite pleased with how that came out, given it involved scotch-tape and a piece of A4 paper):

Now, there are two main facets to Calanques. Medium sized multi-pitch pseudo sport climbs (mixed bolts and gear) and steep burly jug hauling roofs (the third facet is car crime). Sadly the middle of the three all face south and we only made that mistake one day!

I presume Calanques means inlet or something similar, there are a number of them (7?) around Marseille and most offer climbing of sorts. The main area, Calanques d'En Vau (pictured above) is reached after a 40min or so downhill (N.B. this means uphill on the return!) stroll. There are climbs on both side with mainly easy pinnacles on the LHS and more involved (but not too taxing) routes on the RHS, or the 'Grand Face du Rappel'. This stays in shade from mid-morning. Arriving on a bank-holiday weekend wasn't ideal, the car park was rammed and our initial peace at being on holiday was smashed about 5 minutes after parking up. Having forgotten something in the car (did I lock it syndrome?), I returned to find two fishy looking Frenchmen, in leather gloves fiddling with the car next to ours. They look surprised, walked off briskly and then loitered until it became evident I wasn't leaving my oil-burner until they'd f*cked off. They did.

One of the main aims of the trip was to become more efficient. Last year (or was it the one before) when Nat and I embarked down into the Verdon it was very much like I was leading, taking the responsibility that came with it, and she'd follow diligently. It worked, but fast it was not. With her confidence growing (and performance climbing steadily too, although stern British grades sometimes seem to leave her doubting this), this was the place to get going properly, equal share of the load.

Over the coming week (due to lack of scope caused by 25' heat) we pretty much ticked the place. It seems to me that the French haven't yet removed their blinkers when it comes to Calanques. Most 'big' routes follow obvious lines of weakness and there's barely anything that warrants a 7. Given the immense amount of rock I just can't understand this. Its like two High Tor's stacked on top and about 15 times as long and that's just one one side! The other side of the Calanques has only just started being devloped. If you are so inclined, pack a Hilti and jump to it.

Furthermore, whilst I'm at it (and I might as well get this off my chest), I found the Rockfax guide to be a particular low point. They've made the assumption that taking a rack is a personal choice and what might be acceptable for one, mightn't for another, this said they then throw the 'small rack' symbol at anything. I found this to cover A0 style bolt-ladders to pretty much totally trad pitches. The same can be said for the loose rock symbol which seems to have been omitted from some particularly loose pitches. The guide descriptions are particularly lacking too; "the more direct and harder finish", fantastic, now which line of holds/bolts does it follow? I urge you to buy the local topo instead.

The fixed gear is another funny situation. Not quite as odd as the likes of Peak-limestone-trad, yet funny nonetheless. Some routes are fully equipped, others are barely equipped and it almost feels as if they're trying to cultivate a trad-feel rather than letting the rock (and natural placements) dictate the feel of the climb. This seems slightly insane given most routes follow obvious cracks and could easily be protected in an alternate manner.

Descent from the Grand face is made via either abbing down the line (N.B. the state of many of the fixed ab points shown in the guide is poor), or making a short walk, a single ab (where the French chose to ab off a single bolt (no maillon, no ring etc.) instead of a giant 1.5m diameter tree.

The weather was kind over the 11 days or so we were away. 20-25' heat during the day and little in the way of rain. We did however receive tow soakings, both minutes after topping out which led to a lot of wet gear and a pretty memorable walk home in the dark, lightening all around. Leaving the sanctity of the valley to get to the car was 'interesting'.

Before leaving for France, Nat and I both began reminiscing about the Gorges du Verdon. For me, it was the best place I visited on my entire trip; its everything I'm not. Big, bold and technical. Just getting over the exposure seemed like a decent tick, even if I didn't do anything all that hard (for anyone thinking of something hard, Graphique will be the airiest 8a I've ever tried, its not easy either). Due to this thinking, throughout the trip we kept a close eye on the forecast for 'la Palud' (thanks to UKB for the info re: drying). It didn't look good, everyday it rained a LOT and I was sure the cumulative effect would leave the gorge, especially the target (La Demande, the first route to breach L'Escales [i.e. bottom to top up the big bit], following a crack and then legendary exit chimneys). i.e. read drainage.

Saturday looked good, and despite needing to drive for ~10 hours the next day in time for a ferry at 6pm seemed like a great plan. Friday evening we drove to the verdon (2 hours extra), enjoyed the best pizza in the world, a beer or so and then slept a rather uncomfortable night in the car (bad bad plan).

Neither of us slept. My excuse is basically over excitement. Nat just found it bloody uncomfortable. When dawn broke we romped through the wet tunnels to find ourselves at the foot of L'escales just after 7 (giving us roughly 12 hours should we be 'that' slow). Sadly the shortcomings of our plan showed through immediately. Nat looked terrible on the first pitch and quickly became unhappy and returned to Terra-firma. Frustrated I romped up, linking what we think were the first two pitches to save some time. Nat followed looking timid and tired and when she finally reached the belay it was obvious that continuing on, although possible would lead to some fairly frustrating climbing. I suggested we call it quits and return fully fit. She wasn't happy as expected.

At about midday it became apparent just how stupid our plan was, driving in the general direction of North, neither of us could concentrate and we were forced to stop and sleep. Idiotic.

Hopefully this isn't all sounding too negative (the holiday was fantastic)?

Financially it looks like the original Yosemite plan is a little self-indulgent at this time, and given the disparity between climbing as a team, we both think it could heavily benefit from some consolidation. On the plus side, the Verdon is much closer, much cheaper and I have the sneaking suspicion that, should we venture away from cracks onto the more fingery, technical walls (Pichenbule), Nat will excel as she did yesterday upon High Tor. Rat fingers.