The Vagabond Hiker

Hiking, trekking, and climbing the world

Amalfi Coast Interlude

While Italy’s Amalfi Coast was not originally intended as a place to heal from climbing Peak Lenin, it has proven an idyllic location for just that. The amazingly fresh seafood, wonderful (and cheap) local wine, fantastic and varied walking, swimming in the clear and (relatively warm) sea, and spectacular views from nearly everywhere – including my terrace – have certainly had a rejuvenating effect on me.

I rented an apartment on AirBNB in Conca dei Marini, about midway between the tourist centers of Amalfi and Positano.  About 100 meters above the sea (mslm in Italian), the terrace has nearly 180˚ views overlooking the Tyrrhenian Sea.  Several of the photos below were taken from my terrace.

For those who haven’t had the pleasure of visiting the Costiera Amalfitana, it consists of the southern portion of the Sorrento Peninsula, which delineates the southern side of the Bay of Naples.  While only 30 km as the crow flies from that teeming metropolis, in every other regard it is worlds away.  The rugged coastline has resisted invaders (though not always successfully) over the millennia, and until the Amalfi Coast road was constructed in the mid-nineteenth century, the only way for the locals to travel between villages was by path, either on foot or donkey.

Distances in this vertical landscape are best measured in how many steps one must ascend or descend.  Fortunately for the active visitor these paths were generally very well constructed from the local limestone and for the most part remain intact.  Their network provides a plenitude of walking and hiking options, ranging from short jaunts between nearby villages to longer rambles through the rural terraced farm landscapes to more serious hikes and scrambles at higher elevations in the Lattari Mountains, the spine of the Sorrento Peninsula, where one encounters goats and sheep far more often than tourists.  The photos that follow try to capture some of this amazing landscape that I have enjoyed these past 5½ weeks.

Sunrise from my terrace, Conca dei Marini. One of the best, but nearly every morning featured great morning light over the Tyrrhenian Sea.
Amalfi seen from the Salerno ferry, the preferred way to reach this town
Local workers heading to Amalfi in the morning
A lovely Amalfi garden overlooking the sea. I passed it many times on my walks from Conca to Amalfi, and finally had my camera…
View from a cave on the walkway between Amalfi and Atrani
Ravello from the descent to Minuta.  Ravello is the most elegant and cultural of the towns on the Amalfi Coast.  The Villa Cimbrone gardens are on the right (South) side of the plateau here.
Maggie at the Villa Cimbrone cloisters, Ravello
Ubiquitous cyclamen. They were in bloom in May 2010 as well as this September and October.
Ancient hillside chapel near Conca. A great picnic spot, with views along the coast.
Grapevines above lemons. Along with olive trees, lemons and grapes are the most cultivated commercial plants along the coast.
Piazza with mule in Minuta, taken in 2010. It could be a shot out of the Old West…
The ruins of Convento Cospita, not far from San Lazzaro (which is itself a 550 meter ascent from my apartment).  It took me three attempts to reach this convent, though the first two were admittedly half-hearted.
A bold green lizard. Of various shades, these lizards were everywhere, though most were too shy to photograph.
An isolated Amalfi coast villa.
A herd of goats with goat dog near Monestero di San Nicola, taken in 2010
View along the Sentiere degli Dei, the Path of the Gods. This path is one of the more spectacular, and certainly the most popular, of all along the Amalfi Coast.
A Madonna in the village of Scala, about 20 minutes walk from Ravello
Scala scalini (stairs). Walkways through tunnels are quite common in many of the towns on the Amalfi Coast.
Steps up through a chestnut grove above Scala. We were under bombardment as we quickly walked through this grove.
I am not sure what to make of this friendly goat puppy…
Bay of Naples 1000 meters below us, and Mount Vesuvius from near our lunch spot along the Alta Via Monti Lattari
The Vagabond Hiker resting at our lunch spot overlooking the Bay of Naples
Trail down to Furore chasm, just West of Conca dei Marini
Sorrento Peninsula and Positano from Monte Tre Calli
The town of Bomerano and environs from Monte Catiello summit, 1389 mslm
Monte Mezzo (1428 mslm) and Monte San Michele, aka Molare (the Molar) (1444 mslm) behind, the two highest mountains on the Sorrento Peninsula, taken from Monte Catiello summit
Conca dei Marini on the descent from San Lazzaro. The Capo di Conca is on the right, jutting into the water. My apartment is one of the white buildings immediately before the “neck.”
Sunset looking towards the Salerno coast, from my terrace in Conca dei Marini
Three masted schooner near dusk on the Tyrrhenian Sea in front of my apartment (zoom)
The Capo di Conca at sunrise from my terrace. There are numerous old defensive towers along the coast.  This one may be rented for special occasions.
My apartment in the morning. Its location made getting a good photo of it quite difficult.
Conca dei Marini beach cove. The small pebble beach is out of the frame on the lower left. Several days I swam along the coast here.
Picturesque stairway up from Conca beach
Positano in the morning light. Positano is a much more attractive town than Amalfi, though every bit as touristy.
La Buca del Montepertuso, about 400 meters above Positano
Cistus seen on the path up to the rifugio Caserma Forestale (forestry barracks)
Switchbacks on the well-constructed path from Montepertuso up to Caserma Forestale
Caserma Forestale, 770 mslm
Monti dei Mezzo (in front) and Catiello (behind) from Molare summit. Unfortunately, the haze precludes a good photo of Naples to the North and the fog kept me from seeing Positano to the South.

Later this month I travel to Kathmandu for 3 ½ weeks of trekking and climbing.  Our group will walk from the ancient Buddhist kingdom of Mustang, through the stunning Damodar Himal to the only recently accessible valleys of Naar and Phu. Two days of this trek will consist of climbing Saribung Peak.  At 6,328 meters it is a straightforward glacier climb with rewarding 360˚ views.  My hands have recovered nicely, and with my new pair of mittens and wool thermal liner gloves and a better appreciation of frostbite prevention, I anticipate no recurrence.  Next month’s blog post should have some interesting photos from that adventure.  Then a head to the antipodes for 10 weeks exploring New Zealand.  See my updated calendar for more…

Buon camminare,

The Vagabond Hiker

 

 

 

 

 

 

Peak Lenin climb, Kyrgyzstan

I had been anticipating and training for this climb for nearly half a year.  On the morning of August 28, along with one other client and two guides, I successfully reached the summit of one of only five 7000-meter mountains in the former Soviet Union.  While not technically difficult, the climb was certainly one of the most physically and mentally challenging adventures I have undertaken.

By summit day, all other groups had started down the mountain or already left.  The increasingly cold, unpredictable weather was becoming problematic.  In a typical season (from June to August), Peak Lenin sees only a 30% success rate.  During the 16 days we spent on the mountain, the success rate wasn’t even that high.  While weather certainly accounted for some, and lack of physical conditioning accounted for others, as with many mountains, the mental challenges may have been the single greatest cause of failure.

These photos, which include some taken by our leader Stu Peacock and one from another client, document my experiences on Peak Lenin.

Personally, while I did indeed reach the top, I did so at a not insignificant cost.  The bitingly cold conditions, exacerbated by numerous small (and a couple not so small) decisions of mine and the guides, resulted in 2nd degree frostbite on seven of my fingers.  Eventually, that necessitated a medical evacuation back to the UK for more treatment and what will I’m certain prove to be months of healing to get full functionality and feeling back in my hands.

While expeditions like Peak Lenin can be wonderful experiences, spending weeks out in an amazing natural setting with like-minded individuals and insulated from the nastiness of world politics, they are not worth such sacrifices.  Recognizing and promptly treating the symptoms of maladies such as pulmonary and cerebral edema and frostbite, sometimes easier done in an arm chair than high on a mountain, are key to the safe enjoyment of some of nature’s greatest monuments.

The Vagabond Hiker

Peak Lenin on the approach drive to Base Camp (BC)
View of our BC ridge acclimatization walk
Flowers along an acclimatization ridge walk from BC. Jane, another client, is taking a photo in the background.
More late season flowers along the BC ridge acclimatization walk flowers
The north face of Peak Lenin at sunset from Base Camp
The vista along the hike from Base Camp (BC) to Advanced Base Camp (ABC), which in effect became our base camp until we left the mountain
Peak Lenin from Advanced Base Camp (ABC). The route ascends several hundred meters up the face, then traverses to the right behind the nearer features, before ascending the main summit ridge from right to left.
The route we took up a nearby ridge for an acclimatization camp from ABC
Jane on the route up to ABC acclimatization hike camp
The Vagabond Hiker at 5100 m at the ABC acclimatization camp
At the start of the glacier, about an hour out of ABC (Stu)
Resting on the glacier ascent from ABC to Camp 2 (Stu)
Heading up the glacier (Stu)
Two of our group above a glacier crevasse. The glacier had numerous crevasses, necessitating roped travel during most of the first day above ABC (Stu).
Stu on the glacier in the “Frying Pan” below Camp 2. He anchored our glacier ascent, with Andre leading the way at the front of the rope
Two of us heading up to Camp 2, seen as some yellow and orange tents on the rocks and snow in the center of the photo
Stu, Andre, and Jane at Camp 2. Andre, our local guide, was immensely strong and did porter duties also, bringing up our tents and stoves.
Camp 2 at 5300 m. Somehow I got this shot without showing any of the garbage piles.
What is known as “Pig Hill,” a tough climb up to camp 3
An atmospheric photo of climbers ascending Pig Hill up to Camp 3 (Stu)
By my tent at camp 3 (Jane)
Andre at Camp 3 during our acclimatization climb, looking up at the summit ridge (Stu)
Peck Lenin with clouds, taken from near Camp 3. Snow and high winds were also part and parcel of our time on the mountain.
During a rest break as we headed up to High Camp (Camp 4, 6400 meters) on the summit ridge (Stu)
Jane arriving at Camp 4. She and I were the only two clients (out of six) that would summit.
The Vagabond Hiker resting in our Camp 4 tent the afternoon prior to the summit day (Stu). We made an “alpine start” the next morning at 4:15 AM.
Peak Lenin summit view. We ascended from the right side here
On top of Pk Lenin, 7134 meters (23,405 ft) above sea level. The climb from Camp 4 took about 6 1/2 hrs. Removing my mittens even only for a minute or two proved a big mistake.
Surrounded by crevasses on the descent (Jane)
In the ABC mess yurt after the climb (Jane)

Reykjavik Recon

Four days in Iceland hardly suffices to explore even a fraction of the hiking opportunities on offer near Reykjavik.  Even more so when one feels compelled to experience some of the abundant tourist sites and walk around the city itself.  I spent two days driving around the south of Iceland and the Reykjanes Peninsula, stopping at the usual tourist sites: thermal springs and fumaroles, basaltic columns, sea stacks, natural arches, glaciers, waterfalls, surf cauldrons, etc.  Even within a one-day drive of this northern-most capital in the world, the possibilities are limitless.  And I didn’t even have time to drive the popular route known as the Golden Circle, usually the first item on a tourist’s checklist.

Whilst I surely enjoyed the tourist sites, and some certainly involved walking, I took a grand total of zero photos at these sites.  That’s not to say that they were not photo-worthy. Far from it.  But in the jostle of dozens to hundreds of other tourists, I felt more connected to the landscape using only my eyes, shutting out the other featherless bipeds as much as possible.  (Bipeds of the feathered variety were quite impressive, by the way, and included puffins nesting on a South Coast cliff).

I did squeeze in two hikes of note, however.  Both are certainly in anyone’s top ten in the Reykjavik area: Glymur Falls (now only the 2nd highest in Iceland) and Mt Esja, the “city” mountain of Reykjavik, easily distinguished as the long ridge to the north of the city.  The following few photos highlight these two very worthwhile hikes.  Go early in the day while others are nursing their hangovers to best enjoy these hikes.

View of Hvalfjörður fjord and mountains, en-route to the Glymur Falls trail
View near the trailhead of the Glymur Falls trail. I’m not sure what those flowers are that have gone to seed.
The exit from the short cave near the Botnsá River through which the Glymur Falls trail passes
The first Botnsá river crossing. The log and cable are only in place during the summer.
Botnsá River vista downstream towards Hvalfjörður. Unlike most others, I did this hike as a loop, ascending on the left here to above the falls, and then descending on the right side.
Upper half of the Glymur Falls, which is really a cascade, with total height of about 198 meters.
Another view of the Glymur falls, showing some of its complexity.  The Botnsá River is seen on the left.
Up close and personal with the Glymur Falls.  Few hikers waded across to this side and I doubt any others got close enough to really experience the power of the falls.
Mt Esja lupines and clover.  There are numerous routes up and around the long ridge known as Mt Esja.  I hiked the most popular variant, to the Þverfellshorn summit (though most only hike up to an undistinguished rock known as the “Steinn,” avoiding the more interesting summit cone).
View south toward Reykjavik from Mt Esja’s Þverfellshorn summit
Þverfellshorn summit orographic disc

So, is Reykjavik and environs worth a visit?  I can most definitely answer in the affirmative, provided one’s budget permits (this must be the most expensive country in the world!) and one’s tolerance for tourists is similarly high.

My next blog post will be in 5 weeks, of my summit attempt on Pik Lenin in Kyrgystan’s Pamir Mountains.  In the mean time,

Happy trails,

The Vagabond Hiker

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