Back in sunny Sheffield

A month on the Amalfi Coast has at least improved my tan but I'm still catching up on sleep. I said goodbye to my last group last Saturday,but stayed until Monday for my flight home. Running the walking tour became easier each week and each of my groups was lovely,making the work a joy. Here are some of my highlights in photographs:

Walking in Ferrierre Regional Park

Positano with  wildfire raging above

Fire Salamander

Doorway in Herculaneum

Costiera Amalfitana

Quick blog post before heading to bed.
I'm in Agerola working as a walking tour leader - 4 weeks in succession of walking on the Amalfi Coast of the Sorrento Peninsula, near Naples. It's a tough day in the office but it needs to be done. I'm half way through the second week and I'm not sure if I'm getting hardened up to the walking or if it's starting to take its toll. The uphills are short but the downhills are relentless, on irregular steps. I had a maths teacher in last week's group who counted the steps down to Amalfi -2764 in total.

The Duomo in Amalfi

 And then there's the heat. Who goes walking in southern Italy in August?... err, that must be me, then!
Today was Tuesday, so it's Capri. A ferry from Amalfi, then a walk up to Villa Lysis and Villa Iovis. Both carry tales of debauchery and death; always good for a story and I've always preferred stories to facts.

From Villa Lysis

And then there are wild fires. On each of the last three days wild fires have taken hold in the area and been fought from the air. Today's fire, above Positano was being bombed by a helicopter and two flying boats which would touch down on the sea to fill their tanks with sea water before climbing high above the mountain slopes and dumping their loads on the burning trees. They were doing this at 9:00am and still doing it when we passed by again, at 5:00pm.

Wild fires burning above Positano

Between showers on Birchen Edge

Fidel leading Topsail, VS 4c

It's been a busy May and June and this blog's been ignored - I've got out of the habit. Finally, here's a new, high summer update - those in the UK will recognise the irony of the 2012 high summer! Whilst the weather's been setting new all-time records for low temperatures and high rainfall I've been trying to get out and climb a bit between the showers.
I did manage to fall off whilst leading yesterday. Readers who don't climb might like to know that falling off isn't usually a catastrophe - the ropes and gear placements should prevent one hitting the ground. Everything worked as it should and a small graze is all I have to show for my careless footwork. There's no photographic evidence of the fall but here's a picture from the day out at Birchen Edge. Click here to see other photos from yesterday's climbing.

Back from France

I'm back in the UK, but thought I'd round up the final couple of days in Provence; two walks and hardly any rain! The first of the two was a round walk on the GR99 and 99a, a loop that took in part of the shoreline of Lac Ste. Croix to Baduen then back over the hill to the start. This was a lovely circuit, which I expected from my map research. I needed to check it as the red marked footpath shows a dotted line for a short section where the route rounds the peninsula. Although most of the walk is easy going at this point for about 200m the path is forced up for 60m vertical height gain through bare deeply pocketed limestone before dropping back down close to water level. In fact all of this section of the coast-hugging path is quite lovely with grey rock exposed down the the shoreline of turquoise blue water. It's a scramble, but not an intimidating or exposed section.
At the furthest point from the start the path reaches Baduen, which is a pretty coastal village below a rocky summit, before wandering up through a ravine to cross the highpoint on the way back to the start.

Beach on Lac Ste. Croix

On the final day of the trip I walked straight out from Moustiers; up onto the high ground behind to join the GR4 as it drops back down, heading North-westwards back to Moustiers. The climb up at the start is really well graded with well built zig-zags so, although it's a steep climb, you arrive quite swiftly to the plateau. after an easy section the path then turns to single-track and drops down into a limestone gorge before a second steep ascent below the Crete de lOurbes. I then took an unmarked path to the summit of this mini-mountain which was worth it for the summit but disappointing for the views, which are better from the official path as it winds down between cliffs and rocky towers.

View back to Crete de l'Ourbes from near Moustiers

All that was left was a valley plod back to Moustiers and a day's journey back to a rain soaked England.

Gorge du Verdon - how did we manage without IPads?

The rain stopped for Sunday morning and I scraped ice off the Renault Twingo early to head for Pointe Sublime. Dropping in to La Palud sur Verdon a temperature inversion created a sea of clouds below and I drove up the Route des Cretes to get the photo down into the Verdon Gorge that had been disappointing in the rain yesterday.

Verdon Gorge - Saturday

This morning there were whisps of cloud curtains hanging across the gorge with the turquoise river 500m below snaking away to the distance.

Verdon Gorge, from the same belvedere - Sunday

Having snapped a few pics I headed down to Pointe Sublime, where I parked up and caught the bus (it's only passenger) to La Maline. From there my walk would take me down the the river and upstream back to Pointe Sublime.
The 10 mile Sentier Martel is the classic walk of the Gorge and is taken by the GR 4 so it's well maintained and the descent to the river zig-zags easily enough. The limestone walls tower above all the way but you'd be mistaken for thinking that the walk follows level near the bed of the river. Instead it twists and turns, climbs 30m and then immediately descends. After a couple of miles the path climbs a bit more seriously to cross a narrow 'headland' of rock, thus cutting the corner. So it's up for 150m height gain, steep, but nothing to the descent on the other side.
You arrive at a notch at the top of a wide chimney down which the path descends via iron ladders, posing as stairs; they're stairs in form, having treads and handrails, but they wouldn't pass building regs. Those prone to vertigo might prefer to face inwards rather than the 200m of air between you and the river below. Coming the other way this must be a quad-busting ascent.
Quite soon the ladders pass and more steep, twisting ups and downs follow as the gorge continues towards a narrowing about 3 miles ahead. the path never loses interest, wooded enclosed sections followed by glimpses down to the ever changing river; open rock ledges giving onto scree gully crossing; it's never difficult and always engaging.
As you reach the point where it seems there's no room for the path to continue, there's no room for the path to continue! So, it disappears into a tunnel. Entering the gloom you keep the far opening in view till emerging, blinking, after 100m. The next tunnel is a different proposition; no opening of light is in sight and after 100m the torch comes out of the back. You turn a corner and still no end in sight. There are several side openings small pools of light occasionally but the torch is helpful to prevent walking into walls or puddles. At one point I see a strange rectangle of light ahead; at first I think it's the tunnel's end but it's moving towards me.
The mystery is soon solved; an enterprising Frenchman, without a torch has switched on his Ipad and is using the screen's glow to find his way!
Once out of the tunnel it's a short hop and a climb back up to Pointe Sublime. I'd swung the lead with a French couple for the whole of this walk and we came together on this last ascent. They hadn't known about the bus and were faceed with regaining their voiture at La Maline so I took them there. It turned out that he was also an I.M.L. (walking leader) so we had a long chat in 'Franglais' and they took me for a Chocolat Chaud at the C.A.F. Refuge at La Maline.
On the way back to Moustiers it started raining.

Il pleut aussi en Provence

I'm in the middle of a week in Provence around the Gorge du Verdon, preparing for a week in September, guiding for my favourite walking group. I'm travelling light and camping in Moustiers Sainte Marie, which is a picturesque medieval town a few miles away from the gorge itself.

Le Styx

This trip is slightly complicated by the fact that it has hardly stopped raining since I got here on the 11th April, which is never a problem if you've somewhere nice and warm to return to after your day out, but becomes a bit wearing when you're back to Vic Archer's tiny one man tent ( which he kindly lent so I could stay within my Ryanair baggage limit). I've also had to scrape ice off the car's windscreen one morning, which is more than I had to do this winter in the UK!
Anyway, the walking. I spent the first day in the gorge, firstly on a little used path traversing above the left bank, which led me to the Sentier l'Imbut, which is one of the least walkable paths I've trodden in France; you certainly can't do it with your hands in your pockets. It descends steeply to the river level and then follows the river downstream the Le Styx, via lots of rocky steps and ledges protected by cables stanchioned to the rock. At Le Styx the watercourse narrows to a couple of metres and flows between smooth, sculpted and scooped limestone rock. And it's here that the 'walk' becomes most interesting, following overhung ledges blasted from the vertical rock by Frenchmen bearing dynamite. Eventually you escape upwards (where they ran out of explosives, I guess) on the Trail Vidal, and this is not a trail at all - it leads vertiginously up near vertical cliffs, hugging a cable, into a steep gully to a final scrambly steep exit. All very intrepid.
Day two was a walk I really liked; above the gorge just where the Verdon river spills into the Lc de Ste. Croix. This pathway is small and not so frequently walked but it has fantastic views down to the turquoise river. This gradually climbed across the hillside, crossed some rocky ledges and then a vicious 250m ascent up to a high Belvedere.

Verdon Gorge from Pointe Sublime

Since then I've been exploring the area a bit more generally; heavy rain this morning meant a drive out to recce to Pointe Sublime, the finishing point for the Sentier Martel and a drive along the Route de Cretes. This was partly for old time's sake, remembering climbing in the gorge in 1996! Anyway, that's enough for this blog entry - my supper's waiting. More later.

Springtime rock

I've not been writing my blog for a while, I've been playing truant; off climbing in the fine, warm March weather. A few of us had booked a short Scottish winter climbing trip for the third week of March but there was clearly no winter to be found so we changed plans - when life gives you lemons, make lemonade!

A couple of days camping and rock climbing in Langdale was the result, climbing in t-shirts in the warm sunshine - it's always sunny and warm in the Lake District.. It was just Fidel and myself so there was not much considered photography, but here's a good shot he took me at the start of the second pitch of 'Haste Not' on White Ghyll Crag.

I've also had a few days out in the Peak Distict, on Froggatt and Stanage Edges. It's tough, I know, but if I didn't somebody else would have to do it.

Lifting winter's gloom - the FFA (First Fruit Ascent) of Master's Edge

A banana has stunned the fruit & veg world by making the coveted FFA (First Fruit Ascent) of Master’s Edge.

The ascent came after an intensive 2 week period of ripening up nicely in a Sheffield cellar.

Master’s Edge was discovered and climbed using aid in 1999 by Kumquat Bartlett.

The route later defeated Fairtrade attempts by Kiwi Haston, who pronounced it impossible;

 “You’d have to carry 160 kilos of camming devices... fall off and you’re purée!”

Last Saturday I ventured out into the Peak, to Millstone Edge with my camera to join a group engaged in annual collective silliness. (Click here for more pics.)
Pete Whittaker and Tom Randall, (click here for their blog) climbers of renown were attempting a birthday ascent of the intimidating and difficult Master's Edge - E7 6c... in fancy dress!
In sub zero temperatures and with snow starting to fall their fingers would become numb on the icy gritstone after only a few metres of climbing. Pete fell on his first few attempts, complicated by the fact that his banana costume obscured his view to the holds in any direction other than straight in front. How Tom didn't instantly freeze in his skimpy, armless magenta dress I have no idea - maybe the blonde wig helped.

Cycling above Ladybower

I've not been out on my bike for a long time but this week I changed from road tyres to the rough knobbly ones and, today, I got out into the blustery Peak District to give it (and myself) an outing. I've a favourite short ride which starts at Fairholmes and climbs up to pass by Lockerbrook. I usually go clockwise on this, down the east side of Ladybower to the A57 Viaduct, up to Crook Hill, past Lockerbrook and back down to the Derwent Reservoir. This gives you an ascent which is honest hard work and a downhill to Derwent Reservoir which is rough and steep.
This morning however, things looked different. With strong westerly winds I didn't fancy the battle uphill against the wind in the open. Reversing it would give me the wind behind me on the open high ground. The downside to this plan was the first, vicious uphill away from Derwent Reservoir, which saw me pushing my bike for a few hundred metres.

After that however, plain sailing - almost literally as the wind inflated my windproof top and blew me nicely along to the top of the lovely, broad, grassy ridge and rapidly back to the valley.
(BTW: the strained expression on my face is that of an old bloke who's rushed back to get on his bike before the 10 second camera timer runs out!)

2012 already?

I've had a month without posting and missed the turning of the year. For any readers I've missed with cards I wish you all the best in 2012. It'll be a year of changes for me as the economic climate continues to prove difficult for me. I'll need to increase the amount of paid work I'm doing - that's for sure!
This post my news is of a painting exhibition. I've made use of the blank wall space created by a re-organisation at The Edge Climbing Centre by hanging an exhibition of my large, mountain and crag landscape paintings. If you're in the area pop in and visit. It's the largest solo show I've had for a few years.

The 4 mile long, silver, gritstone Stanage Edge is one of my favourite places and my best subject in recent times. The feedback I've had from the exhibition is that this painting of Black Slab and the Trinity Buttress has been one of the climbers's favourites.

 I'm exploring to find ways of being a bit more commercially minded with the painting and have, for the first time sourced a Giclee printmaker who has made an excellent smaller sized print of this painting. This will be an interesting experiment to see if prints, which are smaller and cheaper that the original painting are more likely to be sold.

I'm not expecting to make my fortune with my painting, but I am thinking long term over the next 10 years.