Austria

I meant to stay a week in Magic Wood and ended up saying a month. I think that above everything else explains the power of the place. No place has so many amazing problems to climb as there. Magic aptly describes the climbing, although the wood is far for Magic with its plentiful opportunities to break your ankle, why this name is now being marketed for the red socks walking brigade I don’t know as for a walking place Magic Wood is probably the worst name. The company I kept was also Magical and I had many big goodbyes to make on Monday before hitting the road, and I’ve promised myself I will meet them again! I never thought I would be sad to see the back of Switzerland.

Before I crossed the border into Austria I took one last touristic opportunity in Switzerland and visited St Gaellen, a town with one of the best preserved medieval towns in Switzerland, lined with fresco’s and ornately carved balconies it was a good way to break up the journey, but already it felt very Germanic, I was vigorously tutted whilst crossing the empty roads whilst the residents waited patiently for the little green man to appear. Beside this I seemed to spent more time looking for a public toilet, something I don’t believe actually exists here, as bins seem to be seriously lacking as well (how the streets are kept tidy is a miracle).

Then onto Austria and with a few time consuming diversions as the motorway was closed I head onto Zillatal and the village of Ginzling where a free campsite beside the river will be my base for the next week. To describe the place is hard, it’s a combination of Magic Wood and Val di Mello (Italy), I am surrounding my snow capped peaks, but often the valley is to narrow to see them above the cliffs, the villages look Swiss like with their organised Chalets, but there is more happening here, more bars, information centres, the rules which seem to stifle small businesses in Switzerland are more lax here and so everywhere people opening up and selling beer and food. Almost my first port of call was the Gasthouse for the local brew, possibly slightly stronger than the Swiss beer I guess by the cross eyed effect it had on me, but the most refreshing end to a long days driving.

With my beer inside me I was able to get dinner going at the campsite, Jonny the Spanish dog from Magic Wood has been replaced by Mr Fox, a young fox with shiny coat, bushy tail and pointy nose that happily sniffs through my rubbish bag whilst I read my book. The plan then was to put down my mat and just sleep out under the stars, this was aborted after Mr Fox decided to chew on my shoe with my foot still in it whilst I read some more. I decided to put up the tent encase my nose or other appendages look suitably edible during the night.

That is pretty much it, my night sleep was on the chilly side, but I should have expected that with the snow layer only being a few hundred metres above me. The next day I went exploring and managed to get quite a bit of climbing in and finished the day perfectly with another beer.

Supernova

Everyone seems to be grumpy at the campsite, I’ve so far born the brunt of an American doctor with the personality of the Amoeba, look down his nose at me as I talked about my nutritional work in Kenya; A sort of ‘I’m a doctor, what possible good is nutrition’ look. An angry Argentinean asked me when we are going to give independence to the Falklands, and to top it off a Spanish girl (sorry Basque) tried to give me a lecture on the wrongs of the British Empire. Something which is fun to talk about when everyone has an opinion they would like to express and listen to others opinions, but a horrible conversation normally as it seems to galvanise people to extremes. Her other favourite conversation is the moans of the wronged Basque country and their demand for independence. I think England has probably got more rights to parts of France than Basque have for independence. God I wish for long nights of just playing Uno.

'Right Hand of Darkness' my new project

Back to the mish mash of other things I’ve been doing, I’ve pushed the climbing a bit further with Supernova a Font 7C. Considering that when I first got here I couldn’t pull the first move on this problem on sick slopers I am very impressed with myself. I also seem close to other 7C problems and have started work on an amazing 8A. Whether this is possible for me, who knows, guess only time will tell, with only a week left here, probably not possible this trip. Between writing this and publishing it I also managed another 7C, although the guide gives it 7C+.

Bellinzona

Tim left and needed a lift to Bellinzona, as good an excuse as any to enter back into civilization. We entered civilization, whether we looked civilized is another matter. I’m not sure I’d washed very recently and we both sported a thick beard. Compared to the glitzy Italian/Swiss residents we looked a mess. Even with my uncivilized looks I could appreciate Bellinzona, no longer the mundane imperial Swiss towns, this was a taste of Italian renaissance. Frescoed houses, large squares with fountains, gargoyles, gelateries and cafes: If all with Swiss prices. I sat myself down for my first meal out in 3 weeks, unfortunately my taste buds could still remember the food of Italy and it was close, but not close enough. Although the service was more Italian, my cheese starter arriving half way through my main course.

Back to the beard, everyone tells you how itchy a beard is to grow and I can agree. I kept it up to the point when the moustache kept attracting everything I was eating and drinking and then decided it had to go. What no one tells you is how hard it is to get rid of a beard, no simple shave! My Gillet razor worked so hard, every square centimetre clogged the blades, I had to re-soap three times and the ordeal took a good half an hour. But it was worth it.

In this last week here I’m looking back on what i’ve done. Climbing wise a lot, culturally very little and linguistically nearly nothing. Being very international everyone at the campsite speaks English, occasionally a German speaks to me and I just look back blankly, considering how well I was getting on with my Italian, it’s a shame to have been able to keep the languages going. Occasionally Raul and Sabina teach me new Spanish words and I can speak to Jonny the dog fluently in Spanish. Well, as fluently as you need to get a dog to drop the stick and come here and not get run over on the road. Although I did manage to practice my Italian a bit in Bellinzona. I also looked back on a few of the savings graces of staying here in Switzerland, yes almost everything is expensive, except Petrol which is under a £1 a litre, good chocolate is also very cheap and my daily treat, a 100g bar which would cost over £1 in England is 50p for the Coop own brand and 25p if you go for the supersaver, both very good and surprisingly unsickly, where in England a large bar would leave me nauseous here I find myself almost immediately reaching for the second bar. Enough talk of chocolate, hopefully next time I write I will have some more interesting explorations, unfortunately I think the most interesting part of the trip will come in the last 5 days as I cruise through Germany and Belgium then France back to the UK. Probably too much to remember all the details to write it up, but should get some good photos!

Magic Wood

I settled in pretty quickly to the daily routines of Magic Wood (Averstal), the cheap campground by the side of the road, with its 4 portaloos (for around 100 happy campers which are changed once a week....) and a stream which is now reduced to a trickle that provides us with the water for drinking, washing up and washing ourselves. The inhabitants are a mix of various nationalities, my first friends two Canadians travelling alone, Tim, whose stopped over for a couple of weeks whilst travelling Europe this Summer and Etienne, a ridiculously strong climber who is touring the main bouldering destinations this year. The Spaniards are the next bunch I spend most of my days with, with their tanned skin and long black hair they look gypsy like and would be given a wide berth by your xenophobic Brit, but in truth they are the most friendly of all nationalities. Number 10 Magic Wood Crescent the home of Raul and Sabina is the usual evening destination, in their camper van we relax and watch slide shows of the latest climbing photos or play Uno, a game Rauol is particularly fond off. Next come the Austrians with their thick banana pancakes that they cook up and share around every morning. Mixed in with this we have small groups of Dutch who come over for tea in the morning or borrow a stove when their gas has run out. The favour is quickly returned with bread and cream cheese, chocolate and even once a beer. Although the beer was more of a celebration as Suzie had climbed her first 7B. The Eastern Europeans stand out from the crowd with the neo-nazi style shaved heads, while the Germans stick rigorously to the rules, ensuring their tents fill up the smallest gaps in the campsite, rather than the nice open spaces on the sides. More than once I have had to suggest that half a metre between their tent and my front door is just a little bit to close. But, apparently this is the norm across Europe and every other nationality has their German jokes. The only nationality really lacking here is the Swis.The Campsite

Campsite routine seems to be to get up as the sun turns your tent into an oven, hope Bella and the other Austrians are up and already making pancakes. Make myself a coffee and pull up a chair outside Raul and Sabina’s van. Breakfast is usually a long affair and usually blends into lunch, if Pancakes aren’t on offer than its scrambled eggs. In most other climbing destinations everyone would be rushing into climb by now, but here we would rather wait till the cool of the afternoon and evening. Lunch isn’t often till 2.00 and any time in between is given up to sunbathing and reading. Only at 3.00 do we venture into the forest, returning at 8.00 to cook then retire back to the social centre of Rauol’s van or the Campfire if one has been lit.

The Social Centre of Raul and Sabina's Van

Unlike any other campsite I have been in this one exudes respect, although packed with an age group of 18 to 30 there is never trouble or cause for complaint. No screaming children at 7.00 in the morning, music is kept to a bit of quite guitar playing and singing some evenings, a stereo is unheard of and at 11.00pm everything drifts nicely into silence.

Damon on a more vertical problem

But Magic Woods gives me a conundrum, I am travelling for a few reasons, the first to improve my climbing, for this Magic Wood is unequalled in its numerous steep and hard lines which leave you exhausted after every session. The second was to travel and explore. Switzerland and this area offers little for this unless your bank balance has more zero’s after it that mine. The final reason was photography, although much of Switzerland is full of amazing scenery, this area, stuck deep in a valley offers few opportunities and my collection of Landscape photos is already numerous and I need to move into other areas. So I guess the conundrum is, what to do, do I stay and get better at climbing, but sacrifice the travel and photography or travel more and sacrifice the climbing. At present I am unwilling to depart the social scene of this campsite.

Lake Como and Onwards

Me in Val di Mello
I think I have been spoilt in the last few months when visiting cities, so many had kept their original medieval and Georgian sectors that Como after which Lake Como is named just felt more of the same. Narrow pedestrianised streets with tall thick walled buildings, many with murals and sculptured facades, small cafe lined squares surrounding elegant drinking fountains. The centre piece of the town was the Duomo, this cathedral built over many centuries, its interior features dark gothic designs with a renaissance exterior. The Roman writers and residents of Como Pliny the Younger and Pliny the Older guard the west facade.
Lake Como and the Duomo

But this is all that really captivated me about the city. The cafe’s charges extortionate prices for their coffee and waiters looked bemused at my lack of tipping. Accustomed as I am to the refusal of any tips up in Val di Melo; Yvette tried to tip a Euro for a lunch we had and ended up with a one Euro postcard. The waterfront of Como was rammed with tourist boats and whilst still pretty and elegant didn’t hold the charm of the Canals and water ways of Annecy. But this is all partly my fault, I chose Como as a stopover on my way to Milan to pick up Yvette and could have easily chosen Belagio or some of the countless prettier towns on the western shore, although these would have been a bit of a drive.

The Gothic Interior

With Yvette’s visit came the end of my trip to Italy, I showed her the boulders, routes and beautiful valleys and she fell for this little bit of Italy as well. Dropping her off at Colico station I headed north to the Splugen pass. This tight mountain road, zig zagged up snow capped mountains, cars going up with their engines over heating in first and second and clutches stretched to the max and cars going down with burning brake pads. At the highest point you pass over the border and into Switzerland, waved through by a Swiss border guard whose only English was “Bye Bye”.

Rainy Como

But Switzerland immediately makes me yawn, good roads, quite ancient mountain villages with not an inhabitant to be seen and not a shop or cafe in sight; expensive food, expensive everything and completely lacking that atmosphere that you get in almost all other European countries. On the plus side the campsite is cheap at €3 a night, whilst for that you just get a porta loo and a small stream to wash yourself, clothes and dishes and drink from and with everything so expensive you quickly stop spending anything that isn’t necessary, well maybe a bit of that Swiss Chocolate.

The bouldering is just across the river on a steep mossy forest, the boulders are jumbled all on top of one another, making the landings generally awful. Walking around is a bit dicey with lots of holes to fall into and slippery slopes leading down to the river. The boulder problems are in general excellent, if all in the higher grades. The quality of climbers here is amazing, so many strong Euro Wads, climbing in the 8’s. I was invited out with Katy Whittaker and Ryan Pascal for a session, being joined later by Tyler Landerman. This was my first taste of really hard climbing, Katy ticked an amazing 7C, while I pulled through most the moves, needing to come back for the last move which apparently shouldn’t be the crux. Ryan and I pulled onto Jack the Chipper a very hard 7C+, and was quite pleased to see us both failing on the same move, although I’m sure without a dodgy finger he could have cleaned up.

The bad part of the area is the landings, being on my own there is little for me to do and I have to team up with other climbers and join in what they want to do. Being one of the weaker guys here that generally means throwing myself at seemingly impossible problems. It’s hard to find a project that I can work on my own, but have set my sights on Supernova a hard 7C on the Bruno boulder beside the river. One thing this place has done is to raise my game up to the next level.

Mountains around the Splugen Pass