After working out that Nat had planned for us to be at her folks' place for a double digit number of days over Christmas we both decided that a trip to Spain would be preferable. Other options were on the cards (mainly Aiglun) but with Monarch offering deals from Manchester it just seemed like too good a deal to miss.
The climbing at Vilanova de Meia (VdM) is highly varied as the rock is banded and each is distinctly different; from sandstone Esq climbing on the bright orange rock with classic style finger cracks, to conglomerate bands and finally limestone jugs and traditional Verdon style compact slabs (usually lacking in bolts but graciously devouring 0.5 cams). Although this is great, the face is hugely stepped meaning that more often than not one pitch is distinctly the crux (i.e. 6a ish for 7 pitches with a crux of 7b+).
Gear is that strange style of engineered trad. Some pitches are equipped fully as sport routes, others have a mix of pegs, large copperheads and other assorted aid relics. This does make things interesting. I've never clipped a giant lead splat with a wire coming from it, nor do I know what they're called?
Each day we were treated to an amazing cloud inversion that stopped at the bottom of the main cliff, it was if you could step out onto it (apart from the fact that'd involve falling off the lower tier and death). The descent was as we'd remembered - lethal, especially when damp/icy "follow obvious path" doesn't really convey many of the 'issues' (and is one of the flaws of this section of the POD guide) it has as one trundled block clearly illustrated (it smashed down to the valley floor). The other descent however "descend rocky gully" is like a walk in the park in comparison and if I ever return (which I won't now) I'll use exclusively.
One thing which we'd managed to get wrong this time was how much scope there was for us as a team. There was enough to hold our interest for the week, just. With Natalie struggling more than I'd expected on the steeper ground the lions share of the leading was once again on me but after a few days we were back to our efficient pace (which after spending about 5 weeks this year doing, we should be!).
I'd always planned on a day out to Riglos, remembering the climbing to be a bit "one pebble after the other" I only really had the desire to do Fiesta de los Biceps. Ironically I found the climbing much more memorable and a reversed holiday (with more time at Riglos) would likely have offered better routes.
Arriving at the towers, the Pison (cigar) and Visera (our target) drifted in and out of view from the low cloud. The above photo was taken in the best clearing all night. The small spire on the left is actually joined to the main face with a fixed line, as yet I can't find which route this is.
We awoke early and set off to the base of the Visera (the RHS curving tower, the line of Fiesta can be seen as a white curving streak, yes, that's the chalk). Pitch one went fine, two etc. until things started to steepen. I looked down at Nat giving it her all latching a crimp and then up at the wildly steepening (yet juggy) head wall. A quick discussion on the stance led to us returning to the floor, me, disappointed, her a little bit angry. We did the nearby Moskitos, an easier line with a crux of around F6b. Despite looking like a dreadful chossy corner it actually climbed like a dream and had the most novel pieces of gear I'd clipped (a seat belt, knotted and jammed in the crack). It only took a few hundred meters for Nat to start smiling again and seeing the French team (who were behind us) huffing and puffing on the final steepness of Fiesta she conceded I may have been correct. 'May'. At the top Nat began complaining she felt rough, I put this down to having not carried any water/food but as the evening progressed it was clear that it was a bit more than that. The next day was lost to 'Spanish Sickness' (I was blaming the Refugio food), but the following was saved by cramming in 500m worth of rock. The final day, (the travelling day) was my turn to endure the sickness and our last hopes of squeezing in one more route soon gave way to vomiting followed by a flight, then a trip over the woodhead pass in snowy conditions.
Sunday evening all of the people present for the Verdon tripped gathered for food, drinks and photos which was a fantastic evening. I managed to get hold of a shot taken from the Wide is Love stance showing myself (red shirt) on the finish of the middle pitch of Pichenibule.
