Five things I learned in the Alps

Having been a geologist for about 12 years and been climbing for 10, I don't know why I had never been climbing in the Alps until now. One of our aims for the summer was to climb some spiky snowy Alpine mountains. In the end, we climbed two of them: the Normal Route on Piz Kesch (PD) and the Weissmies traverse (PD).

Being without a guide or anyone that had been before, we had a lot to learn. Here are five things that I discovered about Alpine climbing that, while revelationary to me, will be patently obvious to anyone that has done it before.

1. It's easy to be strong when you have a pulley system


We've done winter climbing in the UK but the Alps have the added dimension of glaciers. When snow-covered, these present the hazard of a fall into a hidden crevasse and so climbers need to be roped together. When we first arrived in Switzerland, we spent a day on the lower Morterasch glacier, where there was no snow so the crevasses were open and easy to see, practicing crevasse rescue techniques. It was fun setting up different pulley systems to lift each other up, and really impressive how easily someone can be lifted with them.

2. Mountains cost money

The sheer size of mountains makes it very hard to climb from the valley to the summit in a day. However, it turns out that Alpinists are a very civilised bunch and that there is a network of 'huts' high in the mountains that you can use as a base from which to climb the final few hundred metres. The huts are more like hotels, except that you have to walk for a few hours to reach them and they have large communal bunks instead of individual rooms. Arriving at the hut in the early afternoon the day before we climbed Piz Kesch gave us time to relax, enjoying the alpine surroundings.


Bed and breakfast in a hut is about £40 per person. Other mountains have cable cars to take you quickly to the higher slopes. The cable car down from the Weissmies saved us three hours of walking, and cost about £20 each.

3. Altitude makes you fat

High Altitude Pulmonary Edema (HAPE) and High Altitude Cerebral Edema (HACE) are dangerous forms of altitude sickness involving fluid build-up around the lungs and brain respectively. We didn't get either of them. It would also seem, however, that being at altitude can make your face puff up until you look like Chris Moyles.


4. Popular means popular

The Weissmies traverse is described as 'popular' route. It is easy to see why, as it is a straightforward way up a 4000 m peak that passes along some great features such as the snow arete at the top of the south ridge.


Climbing at the weekend, we got a good idea of what popular means in the Alps. In the Almageller hut we were joined by about 60 others for breakfast. As we began the walk, we could see headtorches strung out along the path up to the dark silhouette of the ridge. There was certainly no sense of isolation or ground-breaking exploration, but the scenery and joy of quickly scrambling on clean, solid rock made up for it. Eventually, we shared the summit with about 30 other people. We waited our turn to stand on the top, and there was no shortage of people to take a photograph for us.


Descending via the NW side we met even more aspirant summiteers; these ones were ascending from the valley having caught the first cable car up to 3000 m in the morning. Some were in groups of six or more, short-roped together behind their guide and shuffling along like a chain-gang.


5. Just because it's snowy doesn't mean it's winter

The lower part of the Weissmies descent was also excellent, passing through some big crevasses and spectacular ice blocks. Dropping quickly from the summit, the air became warm and thick and soon we had stripped down to t-shirts. The sun was high and strong, reflecting brightly from the snow. In these conditions, sunglasses are far more important than gloves. This seemed very strange to me, where previously crampons and axes had meant waterproofs and bulky layers. It was August, I suppose.


More of that, please!

Alpinism is fun! The routes that we climbed were relatively straightforward, comprising a snowy-walk and a bit of a scramble. It would definitely be good to get on some more technical routes that involve rock or ice climbing. This will require getting much slicker at moving on wintery mountains. Luckily there will be much more opportunity for that over the next few years once we move to Edinburgh.

Van Life 3 - Trip Statistics

The Journey

Start date: 24 April 2010
End date: 06 September 2010
Duration: 132 days
Parents' houses nights: ~20
Other non-van nights: 3 (2 x alpine hut, 1 x ferry cabin)

Start mileage: 105,007
End mileage: 118,632
Distance (miles): 13,625
Distance (Earth circumferii): 0.55



Average speed: 103.2 miles per day
During the continuous drive to/from Lofoten did a number of 600+ mile-days, as the figure shows.

Top speed: 163 km/hr (Autobahn near Nürnberg, slight downhill...)

Countries visited: UK, France, Italia, Schweiz, Belgique, Danmark, Sverige, Norge, Deutschland, Österreich, Slovenija, Hvratska

Fuel

Diesel used: 1563 litres
Average miles per gallon: 39.9
Best tank mpg: 46.4 (Norway - open roads, 80 km/hr speed limit)
Worst tank mpg: 35.7 (Switzerland-Italy alpine passes)
Longest tank: 732 miles

Average cost per litre: £1.10
Cheapest: £0.902 (Split, Croatia)
Most expensive: £1.27 (Kongsvik, Norway)

Maintenance

Pre-trip service
Front tyres and tracking adjustment (Germany)
Replacement fuse on leisure battery relay (Dolomites)
Oil and filter change (Switzerland)

Ferries

Dover to Dunkirk
Dunkirk to Dover
Ullapool to Stornoway
Leverburgh to Berneray
Lochboisdale to Oban
Harwich to Esbjerg (overnight)
Lofoten to Bodo
Foroy to Agskardet
Jetvik to Kilbogham
Dunkirk to Dover

Podcasts subscribed

Science Weekly
More or Less
Global News
NewsPod
Friday Night Comedy
The Infinite Monkey Cage

Photos

Photographs taken: 2668

The Nokia 5800 phone has a built-in GPS receiver that can record the position where a photograph is taken. The places that I took photos on my phone are plotted below. These include most of the places where we spent a night.

Van Life 2 - Advantages and Disadvantages

Over the summer we have grown quite used to being in the van, and have got the hang of navigating around, shopping in different languages and finding everything that we need to live day-to-day. Certainly, if money and time off were infinite, a lack of home comforts would not be a reason to come home. Here are some thoughts about the logistics of van life and some of its advantages and disadvantages that we have found.

Van vs. Caravan vs. Car + Tent

With no toilet, sink, heating, cupboards nor even room to stand up straight inside, the van is more like a big metal tent than a mobile home. Its small size gives it a number of advantages. It has a footprint no bigger than a large estate car and is only 190 cm tall. This means that it can fit into multi-storey or underground car parks (although for some reason we still feel the need to duck as we drive under the barrier) and gets cheaper fares on ferries.

To drive, it is quicker, more manoeuvrable and uses much less fuel than a motorhome. Furthermore, from the outside, there is no indication that anyone is sleeping inside, allowing you to park somewhere overnight as inconspicuously as is possible when you are bright yellow.


The 'stealth' aspect is also a big advantage over a car and a tent. Others include: no setting-up or taking-down; electricity, light and music from the leisure battery; low fire-risk during cooking; more storage space; and the ability to sit upright in a real chair. The flexibility of car-camping could equally be applied to van-camping, as we also carried a tent. The only disadvantages of the van are increased running costs and fewer seats with seatbelts (only three in our case).

Location, location, location

The bed and sofa are very comfortable, so we found that the nature of the overall van experience is determined by where you choose to park. Rural roadsides, 'rest areas', service stations and campsites each provide a different experience.

>> Rural Roadsides. This option is the closest to wild-camping, offering a quiet spot in an often scenic location, and nothing else. It is also free. These were our preferred option, as most of the climbing sites that we visited were in remote areas. They also provide a pleasant base to spend a sunny rest day.

Obviously, there are no toilets. This is not a problem if you bury your waste far from water supplies and, if you are lucky, the place you find to go will come with incredible views. Rivers, the sea, or a trip to a swimming pool allow you to wash.


Scotland and Scandinavia, where the right to wild-camp is enshrined in law, are ideal locations for this type of parking spot. It is illegal in Switzerland, and on Croatia's overdeveloped Adriatic coast you will be hard-pushed to find a single patch of level roadside ground that isn't attached to a hotel or guesthouse.

>> Rest Areas. These can be laybys, truckstops or similar. They are useful because they are found on busier roads, strategically located between A and B. On French and Swiss motorways they have toilets and drinking water, but elsewhere, all that you can expect are a picnic bench and a bin. On major trade routes, these spaces fill with tens of trucks in the early evening, the drivers in their cabs with curtains drawn. Shortly after dawn, they are nearly empty again.


The toilet facilities are the same as wild-camping, but once you get explore the bushes, you will invariably find that you are not the first person to have done so. If it hasn't rained for a while, the smell can be grim, and in limestone regions with Mediterranean climates the odour is so widespread that I'm still not entirely sure that there isn't just some native herb or bush with a decidedly pissy fragrance.

>> Service Stations. Service stations have the convenient locations of rest areas, combined with toilets and a shop. Magic. Unfortunately, they are often next to busy roads and can be very noisy. Plus, in the UK, they charge you to stay overnight. They are useful when you are in transit, but are not the kind of places where you would need to stay for a few days.


>> Campsites. In the personal-hygiene desert of wild-camping, a night in a campsite is like an oasis, where water flows freely: both fresh water for drinking and hot water for showers and (luxuriously) for washing the dishes. We tended to visit campsites about once per week, at a cost of 16-28 Euros per night for a van and two adults. Importantly, campsites with washing machines were our opportunity to do our laundry.


Many campsites have some form of internet access and we even managed to find two where, by parking close to the reception, we could connect to their wireless network and surf the internet from the comfort of the van. There are plenty of books and websites with lists of campsites, so if regular showers are a priority, then extra campsites can easily be factored into the route.

Visiting towns and cities

Over the course of the trip, we found ourselves developing an aversion to towns and cities, mainly due to the problems of getting to the town centre and finding somewhere to stay. We generally tried to avoid any form of traffic, and discovered that while out-of-town retail centres may be killing small business, they are extremely convenient when your only interest is food. Finding a good spot for the night can be problematic, and of course there aren't many bushes in the concrete jungle. At least we are more subtle in the van than in we would be in a mobile home.


Some of our phobia is justified. In some German cities it is illegal to enter the Low Emission Zone centres without a special certificate. Parking in Oslo, Norway, costs 9 Euros per hour. We got a parking fine in Dubrovnik for not displaying a ticket. The nearest machine was 1 km from the parking bay and wouldn't accept notes or cards, meaning that we would have needed the equivalent of 18 x 50p coins to buy our ticket. We haven't paid the fine; we'll see if they manage to track us down...

None of these issues are insurmountable, and I suspect that they would have bothered us less if we were visiting the cities as destinations in themselves, as opposed to interesting places to break up a journey. If you wanted to explore pubs, clubs and nightlife, the best idea may be to find a campsite or a good spot a bit out of town and to get a bus or to cycle in.

Do it! Buy a van! Now!

You might be able to tell that we are fairly sold on the idea of van-based travel. With minimal accommodation costs, massive flexibility, and all our food and toys with us wherever we went, it is the ideal option for the type of trip that we have just done. They're also pretty useful for shorter trips at home, and just think about all that carrying capacity for friends/children/furniture/food/bikes/canoes/booze. We're planning to hold onto ours for a while.

Van Life 1 - A Guided Tour

This post is a guided tour of our home for the last 4 months. Hopefully it will help you see how we have been living and give other current/future van owners some ideas for their rigs. Each of the images can be enlarged by clicking on them for a closer look.

The Van


The van is a 2002 Volkswagen T4 Transporter 2.5 TDI. It was originally owned by the AA, hence the fine colourscheme. They put nearly 100,000 miles on the clock then sold it on. The second owner part-converted it, lining the walls with cord-carpet-covered plywood, building the bed/sofa platform and putting in the table and leisure battery kit. Since buying it in February, we have replaced much of the leisure battery electrics, installed a stove and put in the designer soft-furnishings.

A Guided Tour


The image shows the cab of the van, in both driving mode and parking mode. We have so much climbing and camping equipment with us that there isn't space to store it permanently in one place. When we park we have to move a few bags to the front to free up space in the back. We also have a large library bag, which contains books that we aren't currently using. This is mostly filled with guidebooks describing past and future climbing areas but also contains phrasebooks and novels. The paper road atlas is useful for long-distance route planning, while the GPS is invaluable because it knows the names and layout of every tiny town and village that we come across.


The van is different from many other conversions in that it has a sofa across the back. Part of the sofa can be folded forward and supported with three wooden legs to create a bed platform. The back therefore has two modes: day and night.

The top of the image shows the van in day mode. Notable features include the fold-up table, the easily swept linoleum floor, and the boxes for food and kitchenware. The stove is used for cooking meals, but the Jetboil camping stove serves as a fast and handy kettle. We can carry 25 litres of water; 3 x 5 litre containers (convenient) and 1 x 10 litre jerry can (not so convenient). This is enough supply for about five days. Gemma made the coordinated curtains, cushion covers and the pockets. We've yet to see another van with a Laura Ashley interior.

To convert to night mode (bottom image), the boxes are rearranged so that they fit beneath the folded-down bed platform. Conversion takes about three minutes. We have been sleeping in a thin double-duvet cover with sleeping bags for extra warmth. There are curtains for the windows and another that acts as a partition behind the front seats. In the Arctic we had to thicken the partition curtain by stitching on a second layer and attach it above the end of the library shelf to create a 'blackout' to block the midnight sun that shone in through the roof vent. Further south, headtorches are invaluable and are kept close at hand. Baby wipes keep your hands clean when running water sources are few and far between.


Beneath the sofa/bed platform, we have our 'secure' storage. This area can only be accessed through the back doors of the van. Gemma's Dad helped us to attach a bracket to the doors that can be padlocked shut from the inside. This means that even if someone gets into the van, it will take a lot more effort to get to the stuff below. There is storage there for the rest of our stuff. If we weren't going climbing, this space would easily hold everything.


An unexpected bonus of having a carpet-lined van is that you can use velcro to stick things to the walls and roof. Thus the bedleg, family photo, spotlight or lighter can always be close at hand. The photo also shows the brush hanging from the door; it's useful to keep the brush where you can easily get to it, as a brush and a lino floor are the way forward for easy cleaning.

Leisure battery


One thing that really makes the van feel more like a home is the leisure battery setup. This is a spare car battery, stored under the sofa/bed platform, which is charged from the alternator when we drive, but which is isolated when we stop to prevent it from running down the main battery. It powers the lights and stereo in the back, allowing you to use them without any fear that the van won't start in the morning. When connected to a laptop, the stereo can provide surround sound for watching videos. The leisure battery also powers a 600W inverter that lets you plug in 'normal' household items and that we use to charge the laptops. Mobile phones are charged via the extra cigarette-lighter socket that we installed.

The electrics and the gas for the stove are stored beneath the library shelf. In four months we have used less than 2 x 2.75 kg Campingaz bottles. The library box (current books) and misc. items box (radio faceplate, phone chargers), which are held in place by velcro on their bases, can be moved to give access beneath. Kitchen roll is another must-have item. In particular, we use it to 'pre-wash' the dishes. By wiping the worst of the food off them first, a pan of hot soapy water goes a lot further.

Future changes?

Generally, the setup that we have works very well for us. However, it seems that a van is not just a home, but a project, too. In the future we may rewire some of the leisure battery set, swap the incandescent bulbs on the rear lights for a low-energy strip light, and change the sofa/bed so that the extension slides out allowing conversion with the table still up. In the meantime, we will keep hold of the van on our return and it will serve us well for long weekends within the UK.