So it’s been another two months since my last post. This post is in regard to Kalymnos in October, four month ago. Excuse the lateness.
I think I came from the wrong kind of climbing trip to fully appreciate Kalymnos for what it has to offer. You must understand I worked for a year trying to save money for this trip- a trip I initially intended to be six months long. Not long after embarking on the dirtbag, travelling, climber’s lifestyle did I decide to extend my trip to a year. So my six month budgeting was stretched to one year.
Before I left home, Kalymnos was on my list- no doubt about it, I was going. I had heard the climbing is perfect, atmosphere is perfect, food is perfect, beaches perfect- pretty much everything was perfect. I am not a cynical person, but I would like to think realistic. So, this kind of hype made me quite dubious. I didn’t want to expect too much, in fear of disappointment, but at the same time couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear in anticipation, naturally right? Climbing on a Greek island? Sounds perfect in theory.
Well, after one month on this island, my consensus is that it’s not perfect. I was there from the end of October to the end of November- the tail end of peak climber’s season. It felt a little “Hollywood teen horror movie” ish toward the end. For example:
- When I arrived there were people everywhere. All shops, restaurants and bars oozing party vibes. One week after arrival, nine out of 10 shops/restaurants closed. Where did everyone go? And so suddenly? Back to the UK. Direct flights to the UK ended first week of November- might be a likely answer.
- Kalymnos has an airport, but its runway is very badly situated. Kalymnos is also quite renowned for crazy storms and strong gails. So if there is the slightest hint of a storm, or breeze, flights and boats get cancelled. And in result, people miss connecting flights. Stranded on the island until the storm passes.
- I paid in advance to stay at a large apartment block for three weeks. It was a money saving technique- pay cash up front, and you pay less overall. Great concept. However, during my stay I had regular power outages. This meant I couldn’t turn on lights, or cook anything on my electric stovetop. The cause of these outages? Who knows. Island mystery. Since handing over my big wad of cash to a greasy Greek lad in white Adidas trousers, I could never find him again. On my second last night, I entered my room to find an old oil lamp and a note saying, “You may not have power tonight. So sorry. Big problem for all the town”. I thought about asking the only other people staying there about it, but they had disappeared. I was sure they were meant to be there another week? I went for a walk that night, and it was quite obvious lights were on everywhere but in my room. On my last night, the water was also cut. Sorry, but couldn’t clean the bowls I ate muesli in for breakfast, and dinner! Bastardo.
- During these last few frustrating days, Doug was trying to make a phone call back home on a payphone. Who knows why, but the payphones weren’t working. No power. No payphones. Odd.
Majority of locals were friendly. But I got the vibe I wasn’t the shop owners “friend” like they kept calling out as I walked past. “We have good food” shouted from a restaurant owner induced a “laughing out loud” moment because this was the one place I was warned of serving “good food with complimentary gastro”. Very Thailand-esk.
There are small kiosks all around Massouri. My theory is, the weirder the owner, the cheaper the food. If you want normal service- you pay more. Eg. Milk prices
Shop with morbidly obese, filthy, drooling, falls-asleep-while-serving-you-man: 1.10€
Shop with slick haired, super tidy, doesn’t-stop-talking, “buy from me, not big supermarkets, because I support the climbing community” man: 1.20€
Shop with modest greek lady: 1.40€
Supermarket in Pothia: 1€ + 1€ for a bus ticket.
Scooters- creators of the noise pollution that is killing Kalymnos.
I have never held such large disdain towards motor vehicles until my time on Kalymnos. This island is small, with 80% of crags within walking distance from the majority of accommodation for climbers. I always thought climbers were generally an environmentally conscious crew of peeps. Enjoy the climbing for the scenery. Be out in the fresh air. Get some exercise amongst Mother Nature’s playground. Blah blah. Sure, I am no angel with the amount of miles I cover driving to the Grampians, but where my patience stretches is when I see 20 scooters at the base of the Grande Grotto. Literally 1km from town. A leisurely 10 minute walk along a flat road. And if you have ever walked along a road with 20 scooters hurtling past, you would appreciate my level of hearing damage. I often mistook the approaching noise as the old local bus, but no. Scooter. And if I had a blindfold on, you would think the smell from that scooter were from a Bangkok pile up. Walking around Pothia seemed more dangerous to me than the misconceptions Europeans hold of the wild snakes and poisonous spiders out to get you in Australia.
Beaches- my biggest disappointment
My assumption is Kalymnos beaches are for postcards and summer only. “Pollution free beaches” claims the 35€ guidebook. It’s as though the council ensures the beaches are clean for the masses during summer, and then they go away on holiday and desert the place. As I went for a walk along the beach, I thought to myself, “wow- bins on the beach. That’s great”. Then realised this concept is completely counterproductive seeing as the bins clearly weren’t emptied on a regular basis. There was rubbish everywhere, overflowing out of the bin and into the water.
Kalymnos as a business
I don’t like it when I feel pressured by the people around me to spend money. Yea sure, I understand the whole economic crisis thing. Money makes the world go round stuff. But I have put myself in the “you are exempt from all normal social obligations” category for one year. Eg. I don’t have to pay 5€ a night to camp. I don’t need a new outfit every weekend. I don’t need to spend 50€ to have a good night out. I don’t need make-up. I don’t need to shower every day- only on rest days. I don’t need a hairdresser. I can cut my own hair with my cars side mirror...
So, when I arrived on Kalymnos it was all quite a shock to the system. I was spending 50€ a week in Rodellar. In total. Expenses were food and showers. That’s it. Then! On this island everything costs more. And it all added up quick. Accomodation. Occasional buses. Food from supermarkets. Eating out at restaurants. About 80% of the climbers ate out every night. Bam! 35€ in one day. I could see myself going home sooner than I hoped. I don’t know where the rumour came from, but I was often told it was almost the same price to buy food to cook from the small shops at Masouri, compared to eating out at a restaurant. Maybe it was comparable financially. But those deep fried honey covered dough balls were not helping my muffin tops over my harness.
“Holiday Grading”
I hate this term. I screw my face up to anyone who utters these words. Every time I mentioned Kalymnos, it was bound to be followed by “Oh, you’ll love the holiday grading!” In fact, I hate all debates of ‘soft’ or ‘hard’ for the grade routes. Grades for routes are on a continuum. And are circumstantial for every person and every day. Tall. Short. Crimpy. Slopey. Pumpy. Bouldery. Steep. Slab. Crack. Pockets. Then conditions! Cold. Hot. Humid. Sun. Shade. Rain. What is soft for you, might be hard for me. What is hard for you, might be easy for me. Why do people think it’s cool to say everything is ‘soft’. Does saying things are soft give the impression that you are a better climber? So often I have come across walking contradictions. I see a climber fall, and fall and absolutely struggle up a route, to then hear them claim it is soft. Despite it being several grades below their RP limit. Bizarre.
So, before I even embarked on my first route on this island I expected everything to be ‘soft’. Not a good mindset to be in when on an island where the grading is as inconsistent as the Melbourne train system. I onsighted and flashed my highest grades, but also got shut down on a 6c and 7a, which were damn hard. My theory is the crags have been developed from such a vast range of climbers from all over the world, therefore different styles and standard of grades. This in effect, brings about different difficulty perceptions and large grade discrepancies. So my advice, ignore the grade, just be prepared to get pumped.
I lost psych two thirds of my way into the trip. I was running out of routes I was keen on. I wanted something different. I was getting sick of pure endurance routes on tufas after a month in Rodellar and Kalymnos. The process of finding good rests and recovering was getting tedious. All routes in the Grande Grotto were epic endurance journeys. I flashed Aegialis (7c). On the same day, onsighted Priopos (7c). A week later I spent one hour onsighting Fun du Chichunne (8a). This route weaves its way through the steep roof of the Grande Grotto, consisting of several tricky pumpy sequences intermingled with knee bar rests and no hands rests while standing on tufas. Amazingly fun route! On my last climbing day I flashed Zawinal Syndicate (7c), completing a fall free combo in the cave!
Gaia was the complete opposite of anything I have got on this trip. It’s short and hard! Eight bolts long- two of which I skip while trying to redpoint. No rests. Difficult clips. Hard to chalk up. Pure 8b power endurance. Initially I got on to just try the moves and get some power. But after the second session I could do all the moves and decided this would be my project for Kalymnos! If I do it, cool. If not, cool too. But I decided to give it a good go. Good training either way! Day four I did it in one sit. But I soon discovered one sit makes a big difference on a power endurance route. Again, no send in my final days, but one day, I’ll go back and send. I’ll do some bouldering circuit training and achieve what seems utterly impossible at the moment...maybe.
Kalymnos is a very luxurious crag. You stay in a nice apartment as opposed to the dirt. You can shower (in salt water) morning, afternoon and night. If it’s too hot, you can swim in the Mediterranean. You don’t have to cook in the dark at the end of a long day, you can sit and click your fingers in a nice restaurant for reasonable prices. You can walk (or scooter) to a crag and find arrows and signs everywhere. Route names painted in blue below every route. If you’re lucky, you’ll even find the crag name written on the ground. According to the guidebook, every route is world class. “Musical” or three stars are the average standard. If you don’t find anything you fancy, go to the tourism office and they will supply you with free bolts, a drill to create your own masterpiece and instructions. Perfect right? Depends what you are in to.
Dre.
P.S. Bakery in Pothia- best baklava in the world. A must visit! Get the chocolate cake too. If you go frequently enough, you might get a free piece! ;)
