Cocker's Blog

Marathon de Paris, 11th April 2010

2010-04-13T11:19:00.004+02:00

Russ joined me in Paris to compete in this marathon, which is part of our training for the Patrouille des Glaciers.

This was to be my first marathon but I had run about 330km over the previous two months, including some regular fartlek training so I was fairly confident of managing a decent time.

The course was excellent - we set off from the Arc de Triomphe, down past the Louvre and to Bastille, over to the Chateau de Vincennes, back to Paris via the quais, a long sweep around the Bois de Boulogne and back to the Arc de Triomphe. There was a great atmosphere with good crowd support and not nearly as much of a circus as the London Marathon. It is virtually impossible to run in the London Marathon. 120,000 people enter a ballot for 20,000 places. The remaining spots are sold to charities for extortionate amounts, meaning that the charities require their runners to raise a minimum amount, the majority of which is pocketed by London Marathon Ltd rather than the charities themselves.

I decided to use the Paris Marathon and the Patrouille des Glaciers as an opportunity to raise money for Breakthrough Breast Cancer. Please do a search on my justgiving page if you're interested in donating. No part of the donations will be put towards the cost of the two events, meaning that Breakthrough receives 100% directly via the site. People's generosity has been remarkable.

My parents came to watch and it was great to see them at about km 28. Then a couple of km later, my training partners from the office - Pierre, Antoine and François-Xavier spotted me and ran with us for about 500m - that was a massive boost.

Thanks to the timely consumption of gels during the run, and regular hydration, neither Russ nor I ever hit the "wall". Kms 36 to 40 felt very long but there was never a point when either of us was suffering too much. Sadly we lost each other at the "Powerade" stand (at about the 33k mark) and it was a slight shame that we didn't finish together. Nevertheless we were pleased with our times - I clocked 3.43:54; Russ finished in a time of 3.41.18.

Photos below.

[to follow]

Morzine, 19 - 22 March 2010

2010-03-30T10:19:00.009+02:00

April is going to be a tough month - the Marathon de Paris on the 11th, a six day ski tour the week after (involving a climb of five 4,000m peaks) and the Patrouille des Glaciers on the 23rd). I therefore started training at the beginning of February and, as part of that, alcohol intake has had to be eradicated.

The prospect of a trip with Jon, James and Paul without being able to drink was always going to be a difficult one to get my head around but luckily James was also undergoing a break from alcohol, which would take the pressure off somewhat!

There wasn't much snow in the Portes du Soleil (and we decided to abandon skiing on Sunday on account of the rain...) but it was a good laugh and we were well looked after by Jon's friends at the Alte Neve hotel. The owner, François Diddes, used to be the trainer of the French downhill ski team and to date has scaled forty two 4,000m peaks in the Alps. That shut me up!

Inferno Race Weekend, Muerren, 22 - 24 January 2010

2010-01-25T15:51:00.019+01:00

The Inferno Race dates back to 1928 when a group of Englishmen decided it would be a good idea to hike up to the top of the Schilthorn and ski back down to Lauterbrunnen, at the bottom of the valley. Today it is the largest amateur skiing race in the world.

The length of the full course is about 15 kilometres - this year the finish line was in Winteregg (there wasn't enough snow between there and Lauterbrunnen) meaning a race of about 10km.

The race starts just below the 'Kleines Schilthorn', continuing through the Engetal to the Schilthorn Hut. Then follows a long drawn-out "S" to just below the Muttlerenhorn, followed by the challenge of the Kanonenrohr. Next comes a further "Double S" and a sharp right curve. The course climbs into woodland, crossing the path of the Maulerhubel Skilift. A slight ascent then leads to the finish line at Winteregg. A video of someone doing the course in 2008 is here:

Thankfully the clemency of the weather made skiing in tweed a wholly enjoyable experience, and also ensured that we were at all times able to see the tips of our 2.15m racing skis...

As this was our first race we had to start right at the back of the field which, as we found out, is a massive disadvantage because by then the course is completely shredded. Much of the course was therefore a fight for survival, and it was difficult to concentrate on picking the optimal line. Unfortunately due to a combination of maxing out on gas and the uneven iced-up surface, Baxy (19.03:25) was to suffer an enormous wipeout at the top of the course. Nevertheless Dave (11.25:56) won gold in the internal Lower Hardres Ski Touring Club Championship, pipping Russ (11.33.34) to silver by 8 seconds, with myself (11.47:12) a further 14 seconds further back in bronze. By virtue of our rapidity, Dave, Russ and I were all also awarded "Inferno bronze medals", meaning we should get decent start times next year. A bit of work for Baxy though.

The weekend wasn't all about the race though - keeping up the pace with the "Bormio Boys" at the Eiger Guesthouse and propping up the bar of our hotel, the Pension Gimmelwald, was also key.

Here is a clip of us appearing on BBC 1 at 7.30pm on Monday 8th February!

Photos below...

Courmayeur, 26 December 2009 - 3 January 2010

2010-01-24T16:49:00.005+01:00

The Corfu Trail, 26 September - 1 October 2009

2009-12-21T11:44:00.000+01:00

Tom Hodgkinson, one of my oldest friends since (despite?) having been my room-mate upon arrival at Harrow in 1989, came and lived with me in Paris over the summer and one wine-fuelled evening while comparing notes on recent trips, we decided that we should fire things up together and take on the GR20, a famous 180km trek along the length of Corsica.

That was before Tom suggested we sack that idea in favour of nailing the “Corfu Trail”, a little-known eleven day 225 km zigzag around the island where Tom seems to spend most of his time these days, during which we would basically see everything the place had to offer. Sweet! We set ourselves the target of completing the trail within a week, leaving us with the following week to relax with a few of Tom’s friends in his villa near Kassiopi.

Flight connections from Paris to Corfu are a problem; hence I spent the early hours of Saturday morning sleeping on my inflatable mattress on the floor of Athens Airport. I finally arrived in Corfu at 8am and met Tom in Corfu Town shortly afterwards. After a nice breakfast in the famous “Liston” arcade at the front of the old town, we took a bus to Kavos, in the south of the island, and were ready to go.

Day 1: Kavos to Santa Barbara beach (25km)

It was quite a challenge even finding the start of the trail but after a few minutes of faffing we realised we were on the right track when we encountered the sign in the photo below.

Luckily, in addition to our 1:50 000 topographical map, we were armed with my Suunto X10 GPS watch, into which I had pre-programmed the most significant landmarks we would encounter along the way. We nevertheless almost missed the first monastery ruin.

The first part of the day was spent trekking along the coastal hills, followed by a section along Arkoudias beach. Some people may say there’s no such thing as a tide in the Mediterranean, but it did a pretty good job of almost blocking our path. We had to do a bit of amateur mountaineering at one point, and jump a couple of sections of rock. Somehow Tom managed to drop his (ludicrously small) pack and accompanying plastic bag (!) into the sea, with the result that he lost his sunglasses (now no doubt balanced on the nose of some proud local) and soaked his only change of clothes. We carried on inland to Lefkimmi, Corfu’s second town, and wolfed down a couple of plates of saganaki, a delicious local dish of fried cheese...

Another flat section along rather an unimpressive beach took us into the olive groves where we managed to get very lost. A retreat back to the beach and further up the coast eventually got us to some sort of road where we encountered possibly the most peculiar animal either of us had ever seen – we think it may have been a turkey. We had arrived in Perivoli where ale was massively on the cards. Five of them in quick time fuelled our chat and I was now optimistically talking about finishing the trail in 4 days… After a quick supper in one of the tavernas we decided to push on for 45 minutes in the dark, our torches lighting our way, and hooned it to Santa Barbara beach where we found an ideal spot to pitch our tents: the place was grassy and wonderfully flat, and perched high up overlooking the sea, which crashed and churned at the foot of the rocky cliffs below. Unfortunately for Tom, his tent was lacking a vital part (it really wasn’t his day) but, unfussed, he bedded down in just his sleeping bag, his face exposed to the elements.

Day 2: Santa Barbara beach to Strongili (40 km)

As far as we were concerned, yesterday had been a warm-up day and today we were going to motor. But the combination of ale and exercise hadn’t agreed with me and during the night much of the contents my stomach had been forced to evacuate themselves. There also appeared to be far more mosquitos inside my tent than outside. Not a great night for me, whereas Tom out in the elements had slept like a baby.

We set off along the beach to Agios Georgios where we stopped for breakfast and were greeted by an English woman from Sheffield who had been living in Corfu for years yet had never heard of most of the places were set to be going… she also expressed disgust that we should order a greek coffee of all things. Tom asked her if she liked Greek people, to which she replied dourly, “some of them.”

For the next section we found ourselves in a maze of dunes and scrubland, a kind of lunar landscape, and most of the time we didn’t have a clue if we were going the right way. we managed to dodge the the clouds of mosquitos on the shores of quite a rank lake. A long traverse round a 450m mountain took us to Skala for lunch. We finished off the day heading inland into the olive groves via the extremely local villages of Vouniatades, Ano Pavliana and Kato Pavliana. Tom became noticeably tetchy with me around this time, owing to his failure to understand my excellent sense of humour. However, I soon forgave him and we tucked into some ale on our arrival at our destination for the evening, the little village of Strongili. Now it was Tom who was firing up the chat – I was still feeling a bit under the weather from my difficult night and we hadn’t found a place to kip. After buttering up the local barman we managed to rent a house from a chap called Socrates for EUR 40 – a luxury I badly needed.

Day 3: Strongili to Pelekas (40km)

A gentler day. We set ourselves the target of reaching either Pelekas or Vatos by nightfall, a mere seven or eight hours walk, as opposed to the 12 hour hikes we worked up to by the end. The time was spent entirely inland with a couple of climbs, the main one being up an impressive 600m mountain with what looked like a massive golf ball on its summit – we still haven’t worked out what that was. During the climb we met another person who was attempting to complete the trail in its entirety. This was the only time we met anyone else with the same plan as us.

Beautiful scenery high up on the coast. But another long day and we were very relieved to reach Pelekas, especially as on the village square there was an extremely inviting taverna where, in what was becoming a common theme, we again fired up the alcohol consumption and found a couple of cheap rooms for the night. We had now set ourselves the target of completing the trail in half the suggested time, i.e. five and a half days.

Day 4: Pelekas to Pagi (50 km)

Setting off at dusk I was amazed at the clarity of the moon until Tom pointed out that I was looking at the “golf ball” on the nearby hilltop. This was going to be another mental day of hooning – it had to be if we were going to hit our target of five and a half days but we knew if we made it to Pagi we would have broken the back of the trail. Soon we were high above the coast and heading down to Agios Georgios where the trail wasn’t evident. We decided to “flair it” and go separate ways but I’d managed to find myself on a 45 degree pitch in thick undergrowth so soon had to backtrack and thankfully met Tom further down. The next part was a march along a wide open plain to Giannades where Tom had to stop and get some drugs for his knee – an old affliction since he broke his leg as a child. More olive groves took us to Makrades (where we played the impromptu game of walking past the same random local saying, “Kali Spera” (good afternoon) as many times as possible in a single conversation) via Liapades and eventually to the remote village of Pagi, possibly the most local place we’d come across so far, and the location of the famous car chase scene in the Bond film “For Your Eyes Only”. Needless to say there were no rooms anywhere so we pitched our tents (at least I did, Tom slept out again) in the churchyard. Apparently my snoring was a bigger hazard than the swarm of mosquitos, sadly for Tom.

Day 5: Pagi to Kaminaki (50 km)

This was the toughest day of the trail, involving a climb of Pantokrator, the island’s highest mountain at 911m.

It was still dark when we set off but we made good time. Just after we’d reached Valanio there was a fork in the road in thick undergrowth. Lots of map reading with the GPS meant we were none the wiser. Not for the first time on our walk, Tom and I suffered a polite difference of opinion as to the likely route. We decided to separate and see which of us fared better. I waited for Tom to catch up and we struck on for Spartillas, buoyed up by the gift of a massive bunch of grapes from a passing farmer. Nice lunch in a Spartillas taverna.

Now we had a big climb up the mountain and we nailed the bulk of it in quick time. This was pretty steep climbing and would not have suited anyone with a weak heart. Fortunately we were just about up to it. At the first brink we lingered in an out-of-the-way monastery, abandoned and far from any path. The roof had caved in and no one apparently was doing anyhing to save the place, despite the fact that the walls and woodwork inside were painted with some stunning religious images. As we pushed on, we found ourselves, not for the first time on this hike, amid an entirely new and strange landscape. More or less flat, but extremely uneven, treeless, rocky and bleak, it was tough walking until we made it to the climb to the top of Pantocrator. Tom had already summitted this hill several times and didn’t feel like doing it again (it wasn’t part of the marked trail) so he started off down the valley while I headed on to the top. As always it was great to get to the top despite there being a bit of a haze and a touristy restaurant on the summit.

I was now under a bit of time pressure because once we neared the coast the steep slopes and olive groves might prevent me receiving a GPS signal. The last thing I wanted to do was get lost in unknown olive groves after the sun had gone down.

Descending from the summit was an opportunity to go rapid, and this was my favourite section of the whole trail – the col just south of Pantokrator opened out into a beautiful isolated valley with a couple of abandoned villages. A great view, total solitude, and cranking up the pace made this a brilliant few hours. Not only was I racing against the clock but I also wanted to catch up with Tom. Sure enough I eventually made out a tiny speck across the valley and shouted out to him, a mental incredibly clear echo rebounding back to me. We were actually able to conduct a conversation without raising our voices such was the acoustic of the valley. He was 15 minutes ahead of me having taken a wrong turn but I never managed to catch up. Amazing views out to sea probably zoned me out and I accidentally ended up taking a wrong turn, descending to just outside the village of Vinglatouri. It was now dusk and I was getting increasingly lost – I later found out Tom had had the same problem. So my last hour was in the dark and I was extremely relieved to reach the tiny beach resort of Kaminaki in one piece for ale and seafood. We decided to treat ourselves, since it had been a long day, and booked into a massive, and quite expensive hotel a few km away: the Nissaki Beach Hotel. This was only after a false start involving a random conversation with the owner of a hotel with the same name. The problem being that the latter was on a totally different Greek island and he was waiting to greet us outside…

I can’t remember many days that had been more physically demanding than this one – ever – we had now covered over 100 kms in two days…

Day 6: Kaminaki to Agios Spiridon (20km)

The Corfu Trail was all but over and our only deadline was lunch with Tom’s Russian girlfriend and a couple of her compatriates in a taverna in the abandoned village of Old Perithia. It was going to be a three hour walk uphill though. It was great to see the others and we tucked into a sumptous lunch while feigning modesty at our achievement. The last few hours were no problem – downhilling it all the way to the sea. It was a fine feeling, having set out from a south-facing coast five days before, to now be looking out north over the mediterranean towards Croatia. A final trundle eastward along the shore brought us to a taverna in Agios Spiridon, where we settled in for – you guessed it – ale.

Here are my GPS coordinates as uploaded from my watch to Google Earth:

Zermatt, 14 - 21 August 2009 (including an ascent of the Matterhorn!!)

2009-08-24T22:16:00.086+02:00

The irritating thing about spending time in the Alps is that one tends to constantly look for bigger and better mountains to climb. In September 2008 Baxy, Russ and I managed to get to the summit of Mont Blanc. The climb wasn't technical in nature but it was pretty hard work, the descent just as much as the ascent, and we were delighted at having summited at the first attempt. A couple of months afterwards, Russ and I felt we needed to line up something more challenging, and we soon found ourselves rather optimistically (perhaps even jokingly) discussing an ascent of the Matterhorn (4,478m) via the Hörnli ridge.

I knew that Russ had aspired to climb the Matterhorn since childhood and that it was possibly within his capabilities (though I suspected it was well beyond my own) but all the same at the end of the conversation we had both committed to taking a week off in August to that end. Russ likens the Matterhorn to Concorde in that he feels there is something fixating about its beauty. I too can appreciate the beauty of both the Concorde and the Matterhorn but as far as Concorde is concerned, admiring the design is enough - I wouldn't be up for taking the controls at 30,000 feet. As expected though, following the conversation Russ was no longer satisfied with just looking at the Matterhorn. Unfortunately he was now more up for climbing the fricking thing than ever before!

As for me, I would be lying if I were to say that I had harboured such aspirations since childhood because up until fairly recently, mountains had in my opinion been there to be skiied on rather than climbed. The Matterhorn had nevertheless been very much in my consciousness for the last few years since my first ski touring in the Valais. In my consciousness as a terrifyingly steep and beautiful mountain to gaze at, but with the emphasis on gaze. As I drove down to the Alps I was pretty confident that I was going to have a fun week walking and climbing the odd mountain around Zermatt but hadn't really considered an ascent of the Matterhorn as a serious possibility. For one thing, the localised weather conditions on the mountain invariably mean that the window for climbing it is very small. The Hörnli ridge is also very steep and exposed, with sheer drops either side, the whole way up. And since breaking my thumb in Verbier back in March my fitness had completely gone to pot as I had been unable to play squash since then. If I had known then that since Edward Whymper's first ascent in 1865, the Matterhorn had claimed the lives of more than 500 climbers (300 more than Everest), I would have hastily backtracked on the idea and suggested a five day course of ice-skating lessons instead.

Shortly after my conversation with Russ I duly booked two Zermatt guides with whom to attempt the Matterhorn 21/22 August. I had also arranged for us to climb the Riffelhorn and Pollux on 17th/18th August, and for us to do a half traverse of the Breithorn on the 20th. We would do a gentle trek at altitude beforehand on the 16th.

Sunday 16th August - General chilling & Gruensee

Checking out the Hörnli ridge of the Matterhorn:

Monday 17th August - Riffelhorn ascent

This was an introduction to technical rock climbing, with some abseiling and ascending fixed ropes thrown into the mix. Russ managed to impress the guide Andreas (he's got a small amount of experience in this kind of stuff) but whereas I thought I'd done rather well, Andreas was less than lukewarm on my chances of summiting the Matterhorn. He was convinced it would take me more than the deadline of two and a half hours to get to the Solvay Hut (4,003m), a tiny emergency hut two thirds of the way up the Hörnli ridge in terms of altitude, and he took it upon himself to dissuade me from wasting my money.

There was a chink of light though. Andreas told me that there was a 550m climb from Zermatt to Sunnegga I should attempt, and the time it would take me would indicate whether I would have a chance on the Matterhorn. Do the Sunnegga trail in 45 minutes and I'd have a good chance. 55 minutes would mean touch and go. An hour - forget it. It had to be done. We rested in Zermatt for a couple of hours before both setting off on the Sunnegga trail. I took it steadily yet managed it in 51 minutes - game on. Little did I know though that by the time I arrived Russ had been waiting for 15 minutes. Despite having been virtually glued to his desk for the previous two months, the man was in serious shape. But I was pleasantly surprised by my own chances.

View of the East Face of the Matterhorn from the Riffelhorn (the Hörnli ridge is the right-hand ridge of the mountain):

Riffelhorn summit:

The Riffelhorn from afar:

Tuesday 18th August - Pollux ascent

Up at 6am for this one - a traverse across the Breithorn plateau before a mixed rock and ice ascent. Feeling a lot fitter today and heartened by yesterday evening. Once we had returned to the Klein Matterhorn lift station, Hannes our guide told Russ that he could be a serious contender for the Matterhorn summit if he hit form on the day. As for me, he said that he had initially thought that I was struggling. But he also said that he was surprised at how I managed to stick to the pace right to the end. Pollux was nothing like as hard as the Matterhorn, but on the basis of today's effort he felt that I could justifiably give it a go. Right - that's the green light I needed - no way back now!

Pollux summit:

Wednesday 19th August - trek to Hörnli Hut

The weather had been threatening to come in all week, so the guide office had recommended we skip the Breithorn ascent and attempt the Matterhorn climb two days earlier than planned. No choice so off we went.

The trek from the top of the Schwarzsee lift station to the Hörnli Hut (3,260m) is absolutely stunning, with glaciers and 4,000m peaks constantly in view, as well of course, as the Matterhorn straight ahead. There is never an escape from the Matterhorn - it beckons you towards it from Zermatt and almost all the surrounds. We took this trek gently as we were carrying big packs with 4 litres of water (to save on the exorbitant cost of water in the refuge). Two hours of trekking and we arrived. Supper almost immediately, followed by an individual debrief from our respective guides. There was plenty of chat at supper - all of us honestly assessing our chances and going through our individual worries. My worries were twofold: firstly that I wouldn't make it to the Solvay Hut in the required two and a half hours, and secondly the fixed ropes at 4,200m. These ropes go from about 4,200m to 4,270m and require a serious effort. Here the rockface is so steep that ropes have been put in place to facilitate climbers over the most technical sections. You need to find grooves for your feet, and wrench yourself up on the fixed rope with your arms. I had done a small amount of this on the Riffelhorn and on Pollux and had been left totally exhausted. If I was to get past the Solvay Hut, this would be the final hurdle. Soon it was time for bed, and I didn't manage a minute's sleep through a combination of nerves, altitude, and fifteen other souls snoring in the same room.

Thursday 20th August - Matterhorn ascent

A 3.50am wake-up call was actually a bit of a relief. We did a final check of our packs - crampons, a litre and a half of water, 2 mars bars, a sandwich, 2 gels, camera, a hat, a spare set of gloves, a windproof fleece and a gore-tex jacket was about all that was needed. Then we donned climbing trousers, climbing harness, a base and mid-layer, helmet and head torch, and altimeter followed by increasingly uncomfortable climbing boots with about 5 compeeds on each feet. Tea, a cheese sandwich and we were off like infantrymen on the big push. Out of the door at 4.20am.

My guide, Samuel Anthamatten came from a family of serious climbing pedigree - his brother and one other hold the record for the fastest ascent and descent of the mountain, and he had told me in no uncertain terms that he (along with all the guides) wanted to be up and down as quickly as possible to avoid the deadly afternoon perils of fatigue and rockfall. Any more than two and a half hours to the Solvay Hut and we'd have to turn back due to the inherent risks of guiding an exhausted client back down the mountain.

A lack of sleep meant that I was struggling from the word go (an early section of fixed ropes right at the start didn't help), breathing heavily and wondering what the hell I was doing on the mountain. Russ had been first out of the door with his guide Urs (possibly because word had got round that he was fast), and accordingly was first onto this section of fixed ropes. Possibly buckling under the pressure of having thirty climbers watch him be the first to take on the ropes, Russ lost his footing but managed to scramble up the first obstacle.

An hour in, and I was feeling okay. I was still breathing heavily but this seems to be what I do on any climb. As long as I wasn't feeling fatigued too early, my breathing wouldn't worry me too much - and luckily the night before I had briefed Samuel not to worry about it either. I had learnt on the Mont Blanc climb that guides get very irritated if you insist on any unscheduled breaks. I nevertheless needed one after about an hour and twenty after having ascended about 500m. But within two hours we had reached the Solvay Hut and I was still feeling good, mainly due to Samuel's steady pace. I had totally run out of water though. A short break and Samuel wanted us to keep pushing ahead. This meant that if I could avoid total dehydration the summit was on!

By about now the sun had come up so we turned off the headtorches and I dared to look around me for the first time. It was exactly as the reports had said - terrifyingly exposed on both sides so I told myself to keep concentrating on the steep section of rock called the Upper Moseley Slabs immediately above me.

Another hour and we were making good progress up the steep sections, steadily overtaking people above. As expected, thus far there had been no walking - just climbing - so it had been very tiring on the thighs, and the fixed rope section at 4,200m was yet to come. Sure enough the fixed ropes section arrived and with crampons on, this section was going to be even harder. I somehow got about two thirds of the way up and then came to a vertical step with seemingly no footholds. I hung on for dear life before losing my footing and dangling on the fixed rope. Thankfully at that point there was another guide just next to Samuel who pulled the belay rope taut to allow me to find a foothold and pull myself over the step with their help. Another short section and the fixed ropes were done! Now we found ourselves on the "roof" section, and although at a 50 degree angle, this was actually the flattest section of the climb so far. There I passed Russ who had just summited and was now on the way down. Russ shouted some words of encouragement, and although I would ordinarily have given him a high five - and was very pleased for him - I was so focussed on my own situation that I barely mustered a, "good work mate!"!

Soon the summit appeared and there were a few folks resting just before it, including Andreas, our guide on the Riffelhorn who affectionately patted me on the back. We walked carefully over the shark's fin ridge and finally at 8.25am I was standing on top of the Matterhorn, shaking Samuel's hand and shouting at the top of my voice. These had been four of the most exciting, nerve-wracking hours of my life - and standing on the summit is a moment I will never forget. Then I phoned my dad to wish him a happy birthday - I don't think he'd expected a call from there! I also called Tom Avery with whom I had done a fair bit of ski touring in the couple of seasons before - he wisely asked me to put in another call once I had completed the descent given that the descent on the Matterhorn takes as long as the ascent and is statistically far more dangerous.

11 minutes on the summit and Samuel was keen to get going. it was his seventh summit day in a row (!), and he, like all the Zermatt guides, knows the mountain inside-out so was able to direct me with uncanny accuracy while belaying me from above. The most precarious part of the descent was when we moved out left onto the North Face - one false move and we could both have ended up on the rocks 1,500m below. I managed to keep a reasonable rhythm between the down-climbing and abseiling down the trickier parts, always attaching the "bainer" (carabiner) to an "eye-ron" (iron piton) below. An hour and twenty and we were back at the Solvay Hut. Unfortunately by now the screen on my camera was completely mangled but I just hoped the summit photos would come out.

More of the same for another two and a half hours and finally my exhausted legs carried me onto the balcony of the Hörnli Hut where Russ was waiting with outstretched arms - truly one of the great moments. After a, "mate that was almost unbelievably hardcore" exchange we ecstatically yet exhaustedly compared notes on what had been a memorable morning. Russ had flown out of the traps and had made it back to the hut in six hours twenty minutes, making my seven hours fifty look pretty sluggish. Russ and his guide had been the first guided party to make it back to the refuge but I was pleased to have made it in under eight hours given that eight hours with a guide is supposedly the benchmark for a quick climb...

Samuel had been absolutely superb and had definitely been the crucial factor for me. Both Russ and I, whether we liked it or not, had been up against some pressure - Russ wouldn't have wanted to explain how a much less fit bloke like me had got to the top while he hadn't, and obviously I was under the cosh knowing that Russ was far more likely to summit than I was.

This wasn't as physically demanding a challenge as the 2008 Patrouille des Glaciers, but it was certainly scarier and whereas we're applying for the 2010 PDG, my ascent of the Matterhorn in 2009 will definitely be my last!

Upon my arrival at the Hörnli Hut we didn't hang around and trekked back to the Schwarzsee lift station almost immediately - me at a snail's pace due to toe and ankle injuries on my left foot which had till now been kept at bay. That was it - done and dusted - what was all the fuss about??!!

There was no time for photos (except on the summit) so as well as a couple of my own photos, I have also included below a selection of photos of the exact route we took, taken a couple of years ago from a helicopter - I recommend that you click on each one to enlarge it because on every photo you'll just be able to spot the climbers taking the same way up that we did!

View from the refuge:

Spot anyone?!

Climbing up to the Solvay Hut...

Using the fixed ropes:

Views of the summit from the North and North East...

Russ having made it

Only halfway there though!

Some fellow climbers making their way up the ridge to the summit:

The sheer drop down the North Face:

The below photo of another climber on an earlier trip gives a good indication as to the steepness of the ridge:

Back at the Solvay Hut for a short break:

Friday 21st August (above) - Chilling

Saturday 22nd August - traverse of the Schwarzsee (glacial lake, 2,550m - properly "chilling" this time!)

This was cold but we both made it (just!)

Bernese Oberland, 25 - 28 April, 2009

2009-07-15T20:41:00.024+02:00

It has taken me an age to do a report of our trip to the Bernese Oberland, mainly because the tour had to be aborted after one day on the mountain following appalling weather conditions.

Here is the vid of the trip:

Our plan had been to climb the Jungfrau (4,158m), the Finsteraarhorn (4,274m) and the Hinter Fiescherhorn (4,025m) but we sheepishly returned home having conquered none of the above. The weather forecast had been unerringly woeful two weeks before this trip, dampening our mood upon arrival in Grindelwald. Attendees were me, Alex Nelstrop, Russ Berry, Dave Thomas, Roger Gaide (a ski instructor who we met doing the Haute Route in 2007) and of course Vincent Couttet, our trusty guide of two Haute Route trips.

I had never been to Grindelwald but had recently read Heinrich Harrer's "The White Spider", an account of amongst other things his first ascent of the North Face of the Eiger (in German, the "Nordwand" (also referred to locally as the "Mordwand" (murder wall)). The Eiger looms above the resort of Grindelwald and if nothing else was certain during a week of touring where anything might happen, one certainty was that we were not going to be attempting it!

We gathered in the hotel on Saturday evening and after the customary carb- and beer- loading, we set off up to the Jungfraujoch (3,471m) to Europe's highest railway station. The Jungfraujoch itself is a high mountain pass dividing the peaks of the Monch and the Jungfrau. Below the pass, and cut wholly inside the mountain is a railway terminal, shops, restaurants and a museum - but this is all totally enclosed within the mountain. When outside, one would have no idea of the activity inside the mountain, and in bad weather, and as we were to find out, it is very difficult to find the side entrance to the interior of the mountain on the Jungfraufirn side when returning there following a ski tour.

Before arriving at the Jungfraujoch, the train travels through the Eiger and the Monch and there is a famous viewing window built into the Eiger North Face. When we arrived at the window the weather was looking good but things soon changed as we reached the Jungfraujoch terminal.

It was clear that today was going to be a "nailz" day, and with visibility virtually zero we immediately roped up for the descent down the Jungfraufirn to the Konkordia Hut - an ascent of the Jungfrau was out of the question. Four painstaking hours later we arrived at the refuge having weaved our way through some precarious crevasse fields (most of which we didn't see) and instead of the usual hub of activity at the refuge, there was an alarming lack of fellow ski-tourers. The weather had set in for the week and people knew it.

The North Face of the Eiger...

View from the Jungfraujoch viewing window:

Setting off...

A rare view of more than 20m on the Konkordiaplatz

The height of the steps demonstrates how much the glaciers here have melted in recent years.

With the weather still dismal the following day, we quickly took the decision to abort the trip - we would skin up to the Jungfraujoch, jump on the train back down to Grindelwald, and be back in our respective countries for tea and cakes. Hmm.

Two hours into the ascent, we were labouring due to GPS issues, deep snow, danger of crevasses, and extreme cold. Then there was a powder avalanche. Dave and I were at the back, and upon hearing what sounded like a terrifying thundercrack, we suddenly saw a large volume of snow coming straight for us. Luckily we were in the centre of the glacier so it petered out before reaching us, just covering us with powder. Nonetheless it was pretty frightening.

Four hours had gone and we should have arrived at the Jungfraujoch two hours before then. The main problem was that we didn't know where we were due to the readings on our altimeters. The weather had come in, so the readings would be higher than usual and we therefore needed to judge for ourselves how high we were. After about six hours we had ground to a halt, frantically searching for the entrance to the Jungfraujoch, in the form of a door in the side of the mountain. While Alex, Dave, Roger and I waited in the extreme cold, Russ and Vincent went off to scout for the entrance a hundred metres or so below. At this point the four of us were preparing to dig a snow hole and spend a night in it. Two hours later Russ and Vincent returned, with no joy. Now we decided to ascend, and after a whopping eight hours forty minutes, came across the side door to the Jungfraujoch which thankfully was open!

Once we had got inside the mountain, immediate panic had subsided because at least we had found shelter, but as it was now after 6pm, we had missed the last train down the tunnel to Grindelwald so were going to have to sleep inside the mountain... We briefly debated walking down the tunnel in pitch darkness over the train tracks but deemed this to be too dangerous. But by a stroke of luck we stumbled across the janitor (!) who sleeps up there and who was decent enough to bring us some tea and allow us to sleep on the floor of the main restaurant. This was frankly luxury compared to what we had been expecting, so after managing to afford a surprising amount of laughter about our day's experiences, we bedded down for the night.

As well as the janitor, some rail workers were also working through the night and we eventually managed to get a 5am service train with the workers back down to Kleine Scheidegg, where we soon learnt that all trains between there and Grindelwald had been suspended due to avalanche risk. After a couple more hours' kip at the Kleine Scheidegg station, and with morning now fully upon us, we were therefore forced to get a train to Lauterbrunnen at the other side of the valley, bribing a taxi firm to drive to our hotel, pick up our remaining belongings and meet us in Interlaken where the trip would end.

Comedy photo of Russ keeping warm by using the hand-drier in the loo!

This is what the Jungfraujoch looks like (apparently!)

We knew the Bernese Oberland trip would be action-packed but hadn't anticipated the circumstances. We were sad to be leaving but were were all strangely satisfied with what had actually been quite an escape!

Verbier, 13 - 21 March 2009

2009-04-09T21:59:00.014+02:00

I didn't take many photes or vids this holiday but the tour party was me, Russ, Tom Avery, and Andrew and Rowena Gerber (& family), all staying all over the place.

The tour kicked off with an attempt by Tom, Gerbs and me to skin up to the Petit Combin (3663m) on the Sunday. We duly got up at 3am and set off from Bourg St Pierre with very little clue even if we were on the right path. The climb involved 2,200m of vertical ascent (9 hrs up, 2 hrs down) and unfortunately some teething problems at the beginning were to prove costly meaning we eventually had to turn back 100 vertical metres from the top due to the impending avalanche danger on the way back. Very peeved not to have made the summit but it was a valiant attempt and we'll all probably give it another attempt before too long... Sadly the memory ran out on my watch so there's no altitude graph but here is the route map (click on it to enlarge):

For the rest of the week we attended a Powder Extreme camp with guides Seb, Felix and Anders. We had some brilliant snow but they must have had an awesome season there this year given that Anders even apologised about the conditions at one stage. We had nothing to complain about.

The one slight disaster was that I managed to break my thumb half way through the course (embarrassingly it happened on a piste at the bottom of Savoleyres). It came just before the Ile de France squash play-offs which was extremely frustrating...

Ostabat, 30 December 2008 - 4 January 2009

2009-01-18T17:17:00.004+01:00

Including a day's skiing in La Pierre St Martin and a slaughtered pig.

South of France, 1-5 October, 2008

2008-10-20T21:00:00.004+02:00

Climbing Mont Blanc, 19 - 21 September 2008

2008-09-22T22:43:00.025+02:00

Well this was an ambitious undertaking for Russ, Baxy and me and it proved a lot tougher than we had expected.

We had initially planned to try and summit via the "Traversée" route, i.e. by getting the cable car to the Aiguille du Midi at 3,800m and staying at the Cosmiques refuge on the Friday night. Conditions didn't allow such an ascent, so we attempted the "Voie des Cristalliers" (also known as the "Voie Royale") instead, by taking a cable car from Les Houches, a train to Nid d'Aigle (2,370m), and trekking from there to the Tete Rousse hut (3,180m), scrambling up to the Gouter Hut (3,800m), and then an early rise for an attempt on the 4,807m summit the following morning via the Vallot Refuge.

Conditions were quite difficult - extremely windy and cold up top, danger of rock falls on the grand couloir, and a slightly twattish guide.

We spent Thursday on the Mer de Glace doing some glacier training - crampons, ice-climbing, rope techniques etc, and some slightly hair-raising climbing in and out of the glacier thrown in as well.

HERE IS A VID OF THE TRIP:

Summit !
envoyé par cockersweet. - Foot, rugby, surf et encore plus de sports en vidéo.

This is the Mer de Glace from the train stop. We spent Thursday here acclimatising.

Climbing into the glacier...

Some nailz ice-climbing!

... and back out again before any damage was done!

NOW FOR THE CLIMB PROPER: Altitude readings for Friday and Saturday...

Setting off from the Nid d'Aigle at 10.30am on Friday

Scrambling up the rock face on the way up to the Dome du Gouter...

Feeling extremely ropey at this stage but at least we'd made the refuge!

Below is a photo of the route from Refuge Tete Rousse (which you can just see at the top of the picture) and the ascent up the Grand Couloir. It was a beautiful (but extremely cold)evening later on and this was taken from the Refuge du Gouter.

Due to the cold, we didn't take any photos on the Saturday morning - anyway we got up at 2.30am so it was pretty dark for most of the way. There was some awesome cloud cover below us but my fingers were pretty important at that stage. The below was taken by a random - it's Russ reaching the summit.

Mont Blanc Summit, 8.29am (taking these photos gave me frostbite - still recovering!)

Triumphant in front of a newly-bagged Mont Blanc summit. No more photos taken due to being totally knackered.

South East Asia, 9 - 31 August 2008

2008-08-31T22:36:00.001+02:00

Here are the photos of my & Juliet's trip to Thailand, Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam...

Bangkok - Wat Pho temple (the Sleeping Buddha):

Vientiane (Laos) - Phat That Luang temple:

The food was generally awesome in Thailand and Laos but as always, some food was under par...

Kuang Sie falls - we cycled there from Luang Prabang which was pretty tiring:

About to tuck in to a coconut...

Hanoi - City of Mopeds and overrated food:

Halong Bay - pleasant enough but overrated:

Cambodia - temples at Siem Riep:

It's only the UK that's obsessed by health and safety...

This temple was used in the film "Tombraider" apparently:

... and the obligatory Angkor Wat photos:

More random temples outside Battambang, Cambodia:

Bats:

Back in Thailand: Khao San Rd - can't believe it took me 3 visits to Bangkok to get here!

...followed by a couple of days in the Oriental Hotel - c/o a extremely generous godmother!

Dog photos & cricket in Kent, 29th June 2008

2008-07-03T23:35:00.003+02:00

Biarritz & Ostabat, 6-8 June 2008

2008-06-30T15:00:00.000+02:00

Some random photos of my 32nd birthday weekend in the Pays Basque with Juliet, Zoe, Graeme & Meredith...

Will & Jesse Bax wedding, La Drome, 24th May, 2008

2008-06-29T22:59:00.000+02:00

Patrouille des Glaciers (ski mountaineering race), 18/19 April, 2008

2008-05-05T18:25:00.030+02:00

The Patrouille des Glaciers is a biennial ski mountaineering race from Zermatt to Verbier in Switzerland, run by the Swiss army. It originates from the Swiss patrol of the Italian border during the Second World War and is now reputed as the most mythical ski mountaineering race in the world. The race is about 55km in length, and crosses over some of the highest passes in the Alps. There is a total vertical gain of 4,000m. In addition to that, the participants set off at 10pm, racing through the night and hoping to arrive in Verbier some time before sunset the following day...

We had done the Haute Route the week beforehand (as well as in May 2007) - so had an idea of the physical effort required - but the extremely adverse weather conditions added a different dimension, and there was even talk of the race being abandoned due to the obvious safety concerns of the organisers. It must have snowed a foot and a half on the Friday night while we were on of way up to Tête Blanche on our first ascent.

For amateurs like us, it wasn't just physical exertion that was required, but also mental strength. Surely now even a badly timed wipeout under a chairlift won't detract from our new status as immortal recreational skiers...

What really stuck out for me was the crowds. For the first couple of kilometres, Zermatt was lined with hundreds and hundreds of well-wishing spectators - even when we started getting up into the hills, the odd spectator seemed to appear from a chalet somewhere to offer a "bravo" in what was turning out to be quite an unpleasant blizzard.

It will also be difficult to forget the Tête Blanche - Col de Bertol - Plans de Bertol sections in a hurry. I mean we managed to get to Tête Blanche after a climb of almost six hours in -20 degrees Celsius. Despite our early start time we were already having to keep an eye on the clock. A quick pause for some chocolate bars, gels, water and hot tea and then we roped ourselves up for a quick descent and short climb to Col de Bertol. Or at least that was what we thought. Skiing while roped up to your partners is not easy and needless to say there were a few wipeouts here. By the time we'd reached Col de Bertol we had made it off the glacier so could now un-rope but now came a mental descent in in pitch darkness which was only slightly mitigated by the use of our feeble headtorches. It would have been a pretty nailz descent in daylight but when you throw darkness, a big rucksack, lots of other maniacs, rocks, heavy precipitation and deep powder into the equation, you're minded to have your wits about you!

Nearing the end, the Rosablanche climb greets you when you're all but dead, and demands one huge last effort. Despite only just making it through the checkpoint within the stipulated time-limit (we actually did it with 2 mins 30 to spare...), there were still supporters who had skinned to the top of the mountain and who rang their cowbells when we made it to the top of the couloir.
The arrival in Verbier was awesome. We had taken our time (still going as fast as we could) but almost without exception every bar on the main street in Verbier gave us a standing ovation as we made our way to the finish line at the bottom of town - a truly unbelievable feeling that could only possibly be replicated if we manage to finish again in 2010!

This was an unforgettable experience and I will always feel privileged to have had the opportunity to take part in such a humbling event.

Here is an article about our experience - shame it wasn't the Telegraph but being quoted in the press twice in a week on two different sports ain't bad (what, the Figaro article?)

This is a simulated fly-by of the course (click here to rate or comment on it):

PDG fly-by
Uploaded by cockersweet

Here is a quick vid of the just before, and the start (click here to rate or comment on it):

Article in "Le Matin":

And here are the photes:

Kit check on the morning of the race:

Briefing at Zermatt church - speech from the Minister of Defence and Sport:

Grabbing a few last minutes of kip:

Things now hotting up:

This was taken about 2/3 of the way up the first climb - 4 hours in... Notice the icicle on my headtorch!

Climbing up the Col de Riedmatten (Russ just below us):

And finally - a well-deserved beer the following day in the Fer a Cheval!

Haute Route, 12-17 April, 2008

2008-05-05T16:11:00.019+02:00

After Alex and my epic trip in May 2007 there was never really any doubt that we would return to do the classic Chamonix - Zermatt 6 day ski tour. This time we enrolled Russ Berry, Dave Thomas and Will Bax to join us - The plan was that Russ, Alex and I would then compete in the Patrouille des Glaciers (click here for the post) upon arrival in Zermatt, so this trip as well as being superb fun was also to serve as altitude training. This year we followed the classic skiers' route so it was a very different itinerary involving three more huts we hadn't stayed in before.

We were blessed with some pretty good weather which was a complete surprise given that snowforecast and most of the other weather forecasters had it down as a week of blizzards and nothing else. We had two dodgy weather days - the third (Pra Fleuri to Dix along the lake) and the fourth (Dix to Vignettes via the Pigne d'Arolla). On the latter we were especially glad to arrive at the refuge as four guys behind us lost their way and had to dig a snow hole in which to spend the night, to be rescued by helicopter the following day. It reminded us how lucky we've been to have had Vincent Couttet as a guide on both trips.

All in all a memorable trip with a total dénivelé of 5,600m plus some classic skiing - the Val d'Arpette on day 2 and the whole of the descent to Zermatt on day 6 were two of the best days' skiing I can remember - perfect untracked powder with not a soul in sight in glorious sunshine - totally awesome, a skier's paradise which rarely comes around.

Here is the vid of this tour (you have to click on the icon at the bottom of the vid to get it to play full screen):

And here are some selected photes:

Italy, 7-9 March, 2008

2008-03-15T11:54:00.006+01:00

Romeo & Juliet's balcony, Verona. Classy.

What?!

Roman amphitheatre in Verona...

A market in Florence near Zoe's palazzio

A few shots of the Duomo

Our bedroom ceiling at Zoe's palazzio!

Portrait done by a street artist which IS NOT what I look like:

Verbier, 10 - 25 February, 2008

2008-02-28T16:24:00.021+01:00

The first week was with Russ, Gerbs, Rowena and Mawande plus Sarah Morton for a couple of days, then Russ and I went on to the cult Hotel Les Touristes in Verbier Village. For the first ten days there wasn't one cloud - can't remember that ever happening before. There was nice powder to be found in the first week though there was a lot of hardpack as well. We spent a few days with Powder Extreme skiing with Felix and then Jeremy, two sorties skinning up to the top of the Rosablanche, and a couple of slightly more serious "training days" in preparation for Course A of the "Patrouille des Glaciers" (PDG) for which Russ, me and Alex Nelstrop have finally been accepted after months of uncertainty.

The PDG is an absolutely terrifying prospect and it will involve leaving Zermatt at 10pm on 18th April, arriving (hopefully) in Verbier the following day before 4.30pm in order to avoid disqualification. We won't be able to take any photos of the race due to the need to keep the weight of our kit to a minmum. Our racing skis and bindings, for example, will weigh less than half the weight of a normal alpine system...

VIDEOS:

"Carving the Sh!te"

Powder Extreme Clinic, 18/19 Feb

Cabane de Mont Fort...

Mawande balcony jumps

Mawande other jumps!

PHOTOS:

This is just above "rock and roll couloir" below Attelas:

Felix Tanguay of Powder Extreme:

Not a bad photo! I have to concede this was Russ's idea...

Hmmm. Gerbs successfully completed the PDG in 2006 and will be competing again in April. No photos like this for me yet.

Skinning up to the Rosablanche:

Climbing up to "Turtle":

Russ, me and Jeremy on the Lac de Cleuson dam having come off the back of Mont Fort:

I took this photo of myself upon reaching Col des Gentianes from Medran on the Friday - a total ascent of 1,800m without using a lift!

St Anton, 30 Jan - 3 Feb 08

2008-02-06T10:08:00.001+01:00

St Anton never ever disappoints and this 4 day tour was no exception. The first two mornings were slightly overcast but by about 11am the sun burst through, providing near-perfect conditions. The first day was a bit icy but the second day was a gem. Day 3 was overcast but still with good visibility and Juliet and I drove to Zurs for a full-on day of piste and powder - the others went to Rendl which always has good visibility in overcast conditions due to the tree-lined runs. It having snowed for most of day 3, the final day was glorious and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Disappointing to have to miss out on a final ale in the Moose in favour of not missing my flight though...

Here are some brief vids which are pretty unrepresentative of the holiday but worth sharing nonetheless:

Extreme Mountaineer:

Misc skiing:

Lech downhill:

Dorfstrasse early on Sunday...

A typical scene at the top of Kapall - cold and blustery but with great sun and snow.

Chilling for lunch at the Hotel Post.

Top of the Albona 2 chair above Stuben. Couloir King Ed Mills still on the chairlift getting ready for the backcountry...

The Hospiz Alm in St Christoph for a rosti and a few beers.

Less vis over in Lech

Saturday night at the Funky Chicken - two interesting dancing techniques were on offer here - Ray's needs no comment and Pula exhibited his own brand of "sleep-dancing". The bird with Andy provided less value than was initially expected by the group (i.e. she pulled some other random).

I love this photo - particularly Dave's face (far right!!)

About to tuck into a couple of gluhweins in the "ski through" Ulmer Hutte just below the Schindlergrat.

Nice snow underneath the Schindlergratbahn...

More rosti, gluhwein and beer at the Berghaus Stuben to dull the pain from various injuries and allow one final afternoon's skiing...

This was accessed from the top of Albona 2 by turning left and then traversing for two or three hundred metres. I hope Tim has forgiven me for that!

Skiing down from the top of the Valfagehrbahn and back to St Anton now for half an hour's sauna and steamroom in the Hotel Mooserkreuz's whaleness centre...

And finally - the reason why my skiing was so abominable on Sunday... I wasn't the only one who fell foul of an injury though - there was Kim's neck, Dave's knee (and Caroline's), and Ed's mental toughness. Any others?!

Ski w/e, Val d'Isere, 11-13 January 2008

2008-01-14T10:06:00.000+01:00

This was a supreme outing for the second ski of the season - it has been dumping down all over the Alps so the skiing conditions were perfect - a lack of visibility on Saturday made it a bit more challenging on the first day but on Sunday the sun came out and it was a beautiful day with almost 10,000 vertical metres skiied. Granty even managed to get his skis on before midday on both days which was a miraculous achievement. We took a return overnight train from Paris Austerlitz to Bourg St Maurice and stayed in "La Galise" hotel on Saturday night. "Le Soleil d'Austerlitz" brasserie was the place to go before catching the train!

... and about to settle down in the sleeper cabin...!

Juice detox, 5-6 January, 2008

2008-01-08T10:32:00.000+01:00

You heard.

I mean it sounds like a great idea but when you're on your third celery-broccoli spinach juice and it's only 11am you've got to start asking questions. To be fair, grapefruit-orange-ginger rocks. Especially as the Marché Aligre (just by place de la Bastille) sells most fruit for about 50cts / kilo. The flat still smells like a grocery store though.

Saturday's juice...

Ostabat, 28 Dec 07 to 1 Jan 08

2008-01-03T10:12:00.000+01:00

Only a couple of photos here - including a token skiing photo taken in Gourette (a couple of hours from Juliet's parents in the Pyrenees) to mark the first day of my '07/08 season...

Dubai, 23 November - 2 December 2007

2007-12-27T21:54:00.000+01:00

Here they are rather belatedly. Jackson is to blame for never skypeing me his photos - nevertheless I do accept that it's not top priority to file share when you're in a chalet in St Anton... Watch this space, St Anton for me at the end of Jan.

The below were taken while staying with Mike and Jane Bevan for the kind of glitzy week that I'm rarely lucky enough to get invites to - pro tennis tournaments, Dubai Sevens rugby, swanning around in seven star hotels and swish boats while all the while being waited on by Kumari and probably driving the Bevver and Jane round the bend was the order of the day - bring it on!

"Arlberg 2004 Wheels It Sweet" - re-release!

2007-12-27T14:00:00.000+01:00

"Arlberg 2004 Wheels It Sweet" was widely acknowledged as one of the classic films of its day when I first released it three and a half years ago.

This "director's cut" Christmas re-release cuts the original film down to 9 mins 46 seconds. Includes previously unseen footage.

Click here to comment on or rate the vid.

Auvergne, 1 - 4 November 2007

2007-11-06T20:13:00.000+01:00

Here are some photos of a recent trip to the volcanic areas of Auvergne but quite frankly Juliet the photes are getting more and more cheesy (and defeating the object of the blog) so I've limited the amount that made the final cut...

By the way, if you ever end up in central France, avoid places like Vichy and Volvic like the plague and head further south - we stayed in Salers for a couple of nights of steak-eating.

South West Masters, Le Touquet 19-21 October 2007

2007-10-22T11:30:00.000+02:00

Right.

Teamsheet South (victors): me, Will Howard, Will Bax, Simon Tufnell, Richard “Ricey” Pallister & Wilaf Moore (guest star for North).

Teamsheet North: Sam Elworthy, David “Scotty” Clarke, Tom de Winton & Max Oatley.

The diary entry for this year’s South West masters doesn’t need to be that long on account of the rather telling photos. The standard of both teams’ drinking reached new heights over the weekend and that had an inevitable impact on the quality of golf. I mean, it’s not easy trying to putt while at the same time trying not to decorate the green with shades of orange that rarely see the light of day. The boatrace with those random builders sounds heinous and I was extremely glad to be losing money in the casino rather than getting my kit off with Paul and Kelvin. Hope your head’s better now, Baxy… Anyway, only another 12 months till the next visit to the “Gay Cage”…

PLEASE JOIN IN WITH THE TOUR VOTING... VOTING BUTTONS ON THE RIGHT!!

Vid - Oatley's golf blows up:

Vid - Happy Will Moore:

And here are the photes:

Tucks wedding, 13 October 2007

2007-10-19T12:48:00.000+02:00

... Jules Harvey & Helen Eckersley at the Abbey Hotel, Malvern. Another man falls against all the odds!

Weekend near Montélimar, 6-7 October 2007

2007-10-10T11:39:00.000+02:00

Highlights were meeting a wizard (see if you're cunning enough to spot him in the photos), some extremely relaxed lunches at Jessie's beautiful house, nipping over to a join the Howards in a bar to witness England beat Australia in the quarter final of the world cup, and discovering an excellent river.
Teamsheet - me, Juliet, Will Bax, Jessie Fortescue & Marcus Pyke.

Here is the vid:

The wizard was called Lulu and he can divine water. So if you ever find yourself in a random village near Grignan and you're a bit thirsty, just ask for Lulu and he'll be able to sort you out.

Air France Correspondence - updated!

2007-10-05T22:13:00.000+02:00

Thought my letters below deserved a wider audience so here they are!

My first letter:

10 September, 2007

Dear Sirs

Lost Luggage ref. CDG AF 72214, resulting from flight AF017 (New York to Paris); Flying Blue No. 1042 470 821

I wish to register my complete and utter dissatisfaction at the appalling treatment I have received from Air France since arriving in Paris from New York on 27th August 2007. Your company has demonstrated incompetence of monolithic proportions and I will now endeavour to explain why.

Monday 27 August 2007

My suitcase never turned up at Charles de Gaulle airport so I spoke to one of your airport staff who nonchalantly told me to open a dossier. No apology was forthcoming. The suitcase contained priceless items, most of which I needed immediately, e.g. wedding clothes which I needed for Saturday 1 September and which I was therefore forced to hire at substantial cost. In addition I was told by your staff member that as I live in France I am not indemnified for new purchases, eg. contact lenses, razor, change of clothes etc all of which were in my suitcase and which I had to buy again as a result of my suitcase not arriving that morning and as I had to get to work as soon as possible for a meeting. Please therefore provide me with details of how you intend to refund me for these costs.

Tuesday 28 August 2007

Having regularly checked the lost luggage website, I noticed that my suitcase was retrieved at 10am. That evening I phoned your Air France luggage line (0825 775 775) who told me that the bag had been ready for collection by the delivery company at 3pm that same day. Numerous times I phoned that number to stress the urgency of receiving the suitcase and each time I was told that “a fax” would be sent to the airport and that there was nothing else that could be done to speed up the process! Terrific. How completely useless.

In any case your people at 0825 775 775 told me that the delivery company had the baggage and that the delivery company would be calling me to arrange a delivery time. I ensured, over the space of 5 or 6 calls, that all parties had the correct addresses for me and that only my mobile number of 06.82.23.78.84 should be called. “I’ll send a fax to the airport” was the standard response which did a fat lot of good.

Wednesday 29 August 2007

More follow-up phonecalls but no information received. Eventually I managed to get the delivery company’s number from an Air France employee who told me that the company in question was called “JAP”, number 01.41.51.41.84, assistant “Kezhnah” based near Charles de Gaulle airport. So I started phoning JAP, usually being greeted by Kezhnah who gave the impression that she didn’t give a damn about my suitcase and didn’t want to help. In any case everyone I spoke to seemed to be a complete cretin who was probably being interrupted from something far more important like learning how to read, write or count. After extensive research, I understand that JAP collected the luggage at 3pm on Thursday, two whole days after first having been notified of its presence. Perhaps you could explain why this took two days?

Thursday 30 August 2007

By now I had managed to arrange a delivery time, and again confirmed that the number to be used should be 06.82.23.78.84. The man never arrived and I was forced to wait until 11pm at home which was extremely inconvenient. During that time I phoned the delivery company to see if there was anything I could do and to confirm the details – 10 rue Cadet, 06.82.23.78.84 etc etc. Not to worry, the delivery man had all the details apparently. But come 11pm, apparently not, and he had been phoning my work number rather than my mobile. By now I had a sore head from banging it against my wall a thousand times in frustration.

Friday 31 August 2007

I spoke to several unhelpful people and eventually Kezhnah deigned to speak to me and I explained it was becoming urgent so she told me she’d phone me back. She never did so I phoned her again. She again didn’t phone me back. So I phoned her a third time at which point she explained I couldn’t get my luggage as it was now too late for me to receive it in the afternoon – the earliest would have to be Friday evening. If she had had the courtesy to pay attention to the previous half dozen phonecalls she would have known that I was flying off on holiday that evening and that it would clearly have been entirely inconvenient to have two bags with me.

Following the latest conversation with Kezhna, I again spoke to Air France on the 0825 number to ensure that delivery would occur a week later on Saturday 8 September, between 9am and 3pm, at 10 rue Cadet, with 06.82.23.78.84 being my contact number. I obviously knew that I’d get the same response of, “I’ll send a fax to the airport” but by now I was getting desperate. In any event, Air France assured me that the date, address and contact numbers were all confirmed. I have to admit that I wasn’t brimming with confidence at the prospect of receiving my suitcase on the 8th September but what else could I do?

Saturday 1 September 2007

By now I was resigned to the fact that I would have to buy more clothes etc but I was now in Provence enjoying my summer holiday and at least my mind was by now on other things. Imagine my surprise though when at 5pm I fielded a call from the delivery man who had my suitcase and was on his way to 10 rue Cadet! Well done for finding the bag but I had gone to great lengths to arrange the delivery date of 8 September, not 1 September. I therefore had no choice but to have the man leave the suitcase outside the door of my flat and I had to get a friend of mine to go round immediately to put the suitcase inside the flat. Again, this was entirely unsatisfactory.

Saturday 8 September 2007

Upon my return from holiday I checked the bag for its contents and all of my items were there. However none of my receipts relating to purchases made in New York were there. So someone had clearly been through my bag and stolen these which is extremely disheartening and obviously dishonest to the core. How do you propose to rectify that?

I expect, on the basis of previous experiences with your airline, that you’ll shred this letter without bothering to read it let alone respond to it, in which case I will continue to write to you and cause as much trouble as possible until I receive a satisfactory response. I wait with bated breath to see how you can possibly come up with any excuse for your farcical disorganisation and nonchalant disregard for my situation.

Yours faithfully,

COCKER

Air France's response (I have translated it from the French):

25 September, 2007,

"Monsieur"

I have received your letter concerning your recent luggage incident.

Please accept my sincere apologies for the inconvenience you have suffered on this occasion and which does not reflect the level of service which we would hope to give you.

Under the terms of the Convention of Montreal (Article 31), any complaint relating to damage to an item of luggage must be made in writing by courrier (and stamped by the post office) within 7 days of the date of reception of the luggage. I therefore regret that I am unable to follow up on your complaint which has not respected such deadline.

I hope that you have a satisfactory journey the next time you use our airline.

Yours sincerely,

SAMUEL BARILLE

My second letter:

5 October, 2007

Dear Mr Barille,

Lost Luggage ref. CDG AF 72214, resulting from flight AF017 (New York to Paris); Flying Blue No. 1042 470 821

Thank you so much for your letter dated 25 September 2007 which, oddly, I only received yesterday. I say “letter” but in actual fact it was nothing more than a rather disdainful acknowledgement of receipt and unfortunately just served to irritate me even more. I’m sorry to say that I would have preferred it if you hadn’t bothered to reply at all because had that been so, I would have been spared 30 minutes of my day thinking up appropriate insults to throw at you.

If you had managed to attend sufficient literacy classes to enable you to read my last letter, you would have noticed that I was unable to make a complaint to you about the contents of my suitcase within 7 days because 7 days after delivery I was still on holiday in Provence whilst my suitcase was in Paris. Nevertheless I thank you for helpfully referring me to Article 31 of the Convention of Montreal which, as you and I both know, carries no legal weight and which simply gives you an excuse to ignore the vast majority of the thousands of complaint letters that you undoubtedly receive each day.

In any case, I suppose it falls to me to point you to Article 12 of the little-known Convention of Ouagadougou which states that if a fat, malodorous, lice-infested and useless jobsworth working in Air France’s customer relations department (such as you) ever fails to respond to a complaint letter within 7 days, he shall be shat upon by a diseased pigeon for every further day of his working life. I should perhaps remind you that it took you two weeks to concoct a reply to my first letter.

Anyway, it’s excellent to know that Air France’s recruitment policy is as nicely consistent as the texture of the pigeon-turd which I hope will greet the top of your head first thing tomorrow morning. Whilst your company’s baggage staff have already successfully demonstrated to me that their team has the combined brainpower of a dead goldfish, it is heartening to know that you, Samuel Barille, while sitting on your enormous backside carrying out your irrelevant job in your filthy little office, are similarly only slightly more effective in your domain at customer care than the late Dr Harold Shipman was in his, though it should be noted that you are endowed with a considerably smaller brain than was Shipman.

On a brighter note, it’s good to see that Air France’s IT staff are better-trained than you and most of the other Air France half-wits I have encountered – after all, some capable person has clearly managed to fit your computer with sophisticated voice commands that can convert the collection of grunts and snorts emanating from your vile mouth into words that can be printed out on an Air France letterhead and mailed to people like me – so at least someone, somewhere, has managed to meet the demands of his job description.

Thanks again for your input, Samuel. I’m conscious that by now you’re unlikely to be considering loading up my Air France account with complementary air miles, but please rest assured in the knowledge that even if you give me 100 million of them I’ll still be hoping that you fall into an enormous puddle on your way back home this evening, thus forced to replace your ill-fitting (and no doubt dark brown) polyester suit with something equally as disgusting.

Yours sincerely,

COCKER

Surrey Satellite Tour ("SST") golf w/e chez Paps, 19 -23 Sept 07

2007-09-24T23:10:00.000+02:00

4 day weekend in Mandelieu-La Napoule, near Cannes - possibly the best golf weekend ever. The quality of the golf was mainly budget but the food and drink certainly wasn't - all thanks to Paps' mother and step-father.

L-R: Tim Heard, John Hammill, me, Ed Mills, Rico Steward, Philip McNaughton, Chris Ray, "Dino" Papageorgiou

Congratulations to Paps, the newly-crowned Surrey Satellite Tour ("SST") French Open champion.

PLEASE USE THE VOTING BUTTONS TO THE RIGHT TO VOTE ON IMPORTANT SST MATTERS. [NB - voting now over & removed from blog, 22.10.07]

Here is a short vid of the weekend:

"Ah divven't think Ah'd pleer that bad in the meer-jeh afta winnun tha war moop event, like!"

Around and about the villa...

... and golfing... We played at La Grande Bastide, the Mandelieu Old Course and the Riviera course (which was the best of the three).

New puppy!

2007-09-19T13:20:00.000+02:00

Some photos of "Doggie", my parents' as yet unnamed 3 month old norfolk terrier...

Provence / Cote d'Azur, 31 August - 7 September 2007

2007-09-10T12:16:00.000+02:00

Holiday vid below. Highlights for me were the Lac d'Esparron by the Gorges du Verdon and the Ile du Levant, just south of Toulon... September was a great month to go.

And here are the photos...

The Luberon

Cool sculpture by the chateau at Lacoste, the Abbaye de Senanque (plus a photo of how it is supposed to look when there's lavender about) and the Etang de la Bonde. We stayed in a good gite in the middle of Lourmarin called the Cordiere Luberon.

Lac d'Esparron

Great area - highly recommended. We found a cool (and empty) campsite called "Le Soleil" overlooking the lake - An amusing two days. I reckon it's one of the nicest areas I have ever visited! The water was unbelievably blue and inviting.

Gorges du Verdon / Lac Sainte Croix / Moustiers

We actually stayed in a farmhouse just outside Moustiers in a place called Segries - charming place called the Gite de Segries I think. Pretty good value at 17 euros per person...! Pictures of the gite, the Gorges du Verdon, Moustiers and the lake below.

Le Levant

We spent our last two days in Bormes Les Mimosa and on Le Levant which is one of the Iles d'Hyeres. It was incredible. The views were stunning and it felt a million miles from France - a weird but chilled atmosphere defies its location only just off the mainland Cote d'Azur. Not many people go to the island because the beaches are all nudist so you have to be prepared to get your kit off. If you've got pecs like mine though it's not a problem. The guesthouse was called Le Ponant and it was unforgettable.