Monisha Rajesh, journalist and
author of travel book
Around
India in 80 Trains,
tells us about
rock climbing over the sea in
France’s newest national park
The Calanques National
Park feels more like the set
of an Audrey Tautou film
rather than a world-class
climbing spot – the 20km
stretch of limestone cliffs
that fringe the southeastern
coastline between Marseille
and Cassis is dotted with
bronzed bathers frolicking in
the beautiful clear sea. But
when you’re listening to waves
crashing on boulders 45m
WHAT IT FEELS LIKE…
To rock climb
over the
Calanques,
near Marseille
below you as rocks crumble
beneath your feet, you forget
about all that. Unclipping my
carabiner and edging along
a precipitous ridge of soft
limestone, I can feel the pricks
of sweat break out across my
body as I try to overcome the
urge to panic.
Pierre Clarac, the 52-year-
old instructor of Escalade
Calanques, has climbed here
since he was 15, and is known
as
le Loup Blanc
(
the White
Wolf) for his wavy hair. His
mantra is that anyone can have
a go and I’m with a group of
seven other first-time climbers
–
though his cries of “
Allez
,
Moneeesha!” don’t lessen
the fear as I search blindly
for handholds, my legs and
biceps twitching with unfamiliar
exertion, with only one palm-
sized metal clip keeping me
from plummeting into the
depths below. But when I finally
haul by bodyweight up the cliff
and fall in a heap at the top,
my senses return. I can smell
the lemon and sage from the
surrounding bushes, feel the
breeze tugging at my hair, and
admire the turquoise sea for
the first time.
Now it’s your turn
Pierre
Clarac runs rock climbing tours
for beginners most Saturday
afternoons at the Calanques
National Park, from €30.
escaladecalanques.com
Since 2001, Norwegian Eskil Rønningsbakken has
performed hundreds of balancing acts over lethal drops,
from tightrope walking between two hot-air balloons
to doing a handstand on a pile of chairs over Norway’s
Kjeragbolten, a boulder wedged between two cliffs 1km
above sea level. He tells us about his first big balancing act
It was 2001 when I did my first balance at the Preikestolen cliff
[
Preacher’s Pulpit in English, a 604m drop into the Lysefjorden
in Forsand, Norway]. It had been a year and a half in the
preparation. I’d been at circus school in Germany, but I realised
that I didn’t want to be bound by a stage or a circus – I grew up
in the Norwegian countryside and it kept pulling me back.
I always see a picture in my head and it’s what draws me. I
decided early on that I couldn’t just be on the edge, I had to be
over it. For the picture to resonate emotionally, the viewer has
to be able to see the consequences.
When I prepare for something like this, I first scope out
the location, do the measurements and decide the equipment
I’ll use. Then I start by balancing half a metre off the ground.
Gradually, I up the risk factor. For the first one, I attached the
balancing frame to a small crane used to paint houses and
gradually moved it up. Once I could do it 50 times out of 50,
I moved up. One of the final stages of preparation was on a
60
m cliff – not as high, but I knew I’d die if I made a mistake. I
achieved a kind of inner peace then that’s stayed with me.
When it came to the final act, I didn’t sleep for a few days
before – you need some fear, otherwise you’re going to put
yourself at risk. But once you’re up there you’re so focused that
there’s no room for anything else; you’re in the bubble. When
your life is under threat, something instinctive kicks in – you
just focus on a spot and block everything out. It was only seeing
the picture that I could see what I’d done – and seeing the
picture has drawn me back ever since.
globalbalancing.com
Now it’s your turn
Preikestolen is 25km from Stavanger.
The popular tourist site is a 3.8km hike and while we don’t
recommend handstands anywhere near it, you can peer over
the edge at the sheer drop.
»
WHAT IT FEELS LIKE…
To do a handstand
on the edge of
Preikestolen,
Norway
PHILLIPPE CONTI
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