Three peaks

The three peaks challenge seems to have a folklore all of its own. Most people have heard of it, most of them who don’t walk regularly or climb mountains seem to regard it as something that only the dangerously insane would attempt. I have a number of said friends, one of whom caught me at a delicate moment (ie she bought me a lot of wine) and got me to agree to it.

So, the plan, as relayed when I was drunk and therefore when it sounded somewhat reasonable. 10 of us were to hire a minibus, leave Clapham Junction at about midday and drive up to Fort William in Scotland. We’d sleep, wake up refreshed, bound up Ben Nevis, jump in the bus, drive to the Lakes District in England (singing all the way), climb up Scafell Pike before sleeping soundly in the bus on the way to Snowdon in North West Wales and enjoying a leisurely stroll to the top and a champagne breakfast whilst there, all the time laughing and singing. All this within 24 hours, that is the challenge. What could be easier.

The first real snag was the trip up to Scotland. We got away from Clapham Junction at midday. Spirits were high, songs were being sung, all was good. Several queues, much swearing and a couple of satnav inspired wrong turns later, we arrived at our hotel, at 1am. I will say that the hotel had the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept in, such a shame that we really only got 5 or so hours worth of sleep prior to undertaking the challenge.

Ben Nevis was the starting point. It was by far the highest mountain at 1,400m, and was also the only climb which started at sea level. We started at about 8:00. Two thirds of the way up was the first sign of snow. Yep, snow. It wasn’t actually snowing, this was snow that had yet to melt from winter. Amidst the snow, we did come across one of the more bizarre sights over the course of the trip. Three Christian guys had read a section of the bible which said “Jesus said to pick up your mat…”. This caused these three guys to pick up a mat-tress, a double mattress mind, carry it to the top of the mountain and toboggan down the snow. They were my heroes.

Summit reached, walk to the bottom, pot noodle break before off to the Lakes District at about 3pm. We arrived at Scafell Pike at about 10pm and began to climb in the fading sunlight. Climbing Scafell is like climbing a narrow, massive and very steep staircase for a couple of hours. Whatsmore, we chose to do this challenge on a weekend where several other groups were doing the same thing. Some of them start at Snowdon, but we all get to Scafell at about the same time. So really, it’s like climbing and descending a steep staircase for a couple of hours with thousands of other people in the dark. Most of these other people were dressed like they were climbing mountains, but one guy was doing this challenge whilst dressed as Bananaman, which deserves a special mention.

A few wrong turns and a few close encounters with rabbit and sheep poo later, we were on the road to Snowdon at about 2:30am, arriving at about 6:30am. The challenge is to get from the base of Ben Nevis to the top of Snowdon within 24 hours. There was some spirit left, but the reality is that after climbing 2 mountains and having a bad night’s sleep in a bus on bumpy roads, the last thing any of us really felt like doing was climbing another friggin mountain, especially the long and winding road that leads to the top of Snowdon. But we did it, and ended up getting there at about 9:30, making a final time of 25 and a half hours. Not within the 24 hours then, but by the time we got to the top, nobody really cared.

As most of you know, this was a charity event. Overall, between myself and my fellow smile train collector, we managed to raise over £600 – well over double what we’d set out to do, and enough to pay for life changing surgery for 4 children. A very special thanks to those of you who did sponsor me.

Photos are here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=98967&id=528267125&l=809b5d9b81

Three peaks part 2

Well, this whole idea has taken on a life of its own. Not only has a total of £191 been donated to date (and thank you to all of you who contributed, individual thank yous will be sent after the walk), but my wonderful friend Ross Robinson has taken it upon himself to design 3 Three Peaks t-shirts, which I'm happy to say are now available for sale, with all profits going to the Smile Train.

Uk users have a look at: http://www.zazzle.co.uk/ThreePeaks

Australian users have a look at: http://www.redbubble.com/people/sambo999

Buy loads of them! Or just provide me with feedback, they can always be changed!

Proper 3 peaks

Upon finishing the Yorkshire Dales 3 peaks last year, the one thing that stood out was how much fitter the boys I had done it with were. It was quite annoying. They'd all shoot off up the hills, I'd struggle on manfully. I'd catch up with them all, they'd all be resting up against a rock. Upon my arrival they'd all say "right, time to go", before shooting off again, leaving me to struggle onwards without a break.

We finished that walk at the pub. I was absolutely knackered and could barely lift my pint. The rest of the guys were ready to do another walk, I was ready to join the dog in the kennel. It was on the back of that trip that I bought the bicycle and decided to get as fit as the boys. I can beat most of them at squash, time to get fitter than the rest of them. The feckers.

Good intentions yes, they will come under severe scrutiny in a couple of weeks time when I attempt to climb the tallest mountain in Scotland, the tallest mountain in England and the tallest mountain in Wales, all within a 24 hour period. The fabled 3 peaks challenge. We have a driver, we have a will, we have a greater level of fitness than we did last year, but this one is going to be seriously hard work. Let's see what happens.

I won't bang on about this too much, but it's for charity. The Smile Train, the largest cleft palate and cleft lip charity in the world. My target of £150 represents the cost of operating on one child, reaching it will make a difference.

Donating is easy. Simply visit http://www.justgiving.com/sammccormack1, they'll do the rest. Every donor will receieve one blog entry. What a deal!

Snow!

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=74616&l=5016e&id=528267125

Photos of the trip

Those non-Facebook luddites who would like to see some photos of the trip can follow the following link:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=72591&l=8953c&id=528267125

Krabi

Following an overnight train journey and a bus trip, arrived in Krabi. By this stage I was acutely aware of the budget, so got a room for £10 a place on the beach which was 'near Krabi'. The pamphlet I relied upon for this information stated quite clearly that the 'resort' was on the beach in Krabi. 30 minutes in the back of a ute later, I learned that Krabi was not just the name of the town, but the name of the entire province.

No matter. The bungalow was on the beach and the seclusion was just about right. First day was spent sleeping.

Second day I hopped on the resort's bicycle and rode, in searing heat, to another beach about an hour away. If anyone ever wonders where old scooters and mopeds go to die, it appears that the answer is Krabi. Hundreds of these little things went speeding by as I struggled on in searing heat. The people on the scooters (there were sometimes 3 of them) generally looked at me with an expression which varied from amusement to amazement. I couldn't really understand why. Anyways, got to the beach, sat, read a book, cycled back to the resort and retired to the hammock for the rest of the day/night for more book and beer action.

You're probably asking yourself, Sam, where are all the people you met? Well, truth be told, no one was much interested in talking. It was an odd resort, chock-a-block full of Germans. And they weren't friendly. I guess that they probably saw me, a young guy (no comments please) travelling in Thailand alone and assumed what I assumed when I saw guys by themselves in Bangkok. My cause probably wasn't helped by the fat middle aged German who was travelling with his 'friend', a young Thai boy who couldn't have been older than 25. Oh well. If it's that you're looking for, I guess you can find it in Thailand.

The following day I decided to rent one of the scooters. £6 a day. No wonder the locals were looking at me strangely.

Initially I was content to travel at the listed speed limit of 21 kph. (Sadly, my camera had packed it in by this stage, I don't have a photo but I swear this is true) This wasn't working at all. I was being overtaken by old ladies carrying 2 children and a bag of bananas. This wouldn't do. Turned the handle a bit more and showed those old ladies who was the boss.

There wasn't a strict destination in mind, just a desire to see different things for a day. Ended up riding through Khao Sok National Park. And wasn't it amazing. The landscape is essentially volcanic, like the Glasshouse Mountains on the Sunshine Coast on steroids. Stopped in little towns, nodded and smiled at locals who did the same back, bought local food. I was hungry, I didn't ask what the meat was, they didn't tell me, both parties were happy with this arrangement.

So that was really about it, Krabi was complete, Sarah and Stacey arrived towards the end of night 3, time to move to Koh Phi Phi, which you'll just have to wait to hear about.

Bangkok

Home. Dad pouring wine and sniggering. Mum updating us all on the family gossip from around the world and reluctantly but politely accepting dad's offer of a 6th half glass of wine. Louise telling us the dog kennel and Wurtulla stories once again. (Again, publicly, I deny all knowledge of any phone calls made to Wurtulla at the relevant time) Dan sauntering in after dinner has finished, scoffing leftovers and providing mum with feedback on the meal and ways it could be improved.

There's a certain amount of predictability and a whole load of familiarity. It's great. I'm here for a bit over a week for dad's 60th birthday. The big party was on saturday night, he had an absolute ball. My arrival here was a surprise. Dad was suitably surprised. This is essentially why there have been no blog entries for some time. Dad thought I was in Morocco. Had he known that I was in Thailand for 2 weeks, he may have smelt a rat.

I'll tell you about in Thailand in installments. First, arrival in Bangkok. Arrived on the afternoon of the 25th, and had an overnight train the following day. Time was limited, I was determined to fit as much into that 30 hour period as possible. So, immediately met my friend Jennifer and her new Thai boyfriend Teddy at their place before hitting the town.

You know, god bless Teddy, he really was trying to show me the best of his city. It was Christmas day, Teddy thoughtfully brought me to a shopping centre which had a Christmas tree. Sadly though, the Christmas tree wasn't serving any drinks, so we swiftly moved onto Bangkok's famous tourist strip, the Khao San Road.

Like so many tourist areas around the world, Khao San road essentially features a mass of pubs and bars which play western music and are frequented by westerners. Sadly, Jennifer insisted that we visit an Irish bar. My plea to the effect that I had just left a place remarkably similar to Ireland fell on deaf ears, so we trudged up the stairs, past the Irish flags and maps of County Kerry and into a dark bar. Then I discovered 'the secret'.

Usually, you'd go to a place like this, settle in, drink some beers and if you're lucky, be in the right place for the beer to have a decent effect and ensure you were having a good time. Thais serve their drinks as large cocktails. This means that they empty a bottle of Thai whisky, a bottle of red bull and some coke into a bucket and serve it up with many straws. Hygene, questionable. Effect, incredible. That is the secret. Within half an hour we were absolutely smashed and I would have done just about anything. The band, a seven piece Thai covers band, played note perfect versions of Oasis and incredibly, Sweet Child of Mine. It was a great night but really, after the fourth bucket, we could have been in the middle of the desert at midday and probably have had just as good a time.

I blame the buckets for what happened next. A vendor outside was selling deep fried insects. He wasn't doing a roaring trade, but it had to be done. We bought a selection of things. The grasshopper halves, flies and various unidentifed insects all tasted pretty much the same, crunchy and coated in the soy sauce sprayed onto them. I drew the line at cockroaches, no way, but mistaken believed that a juicy worm wouldn't have been a problem. This had a little more meat than your average fly though, and it very nearly made me vomit the whisky back up.

Sadly, that was all the culture that Bangkok offered on this day. We went home and due to jetlag, I slept til about 2pm. This gave us just enough time for a massage in the park before hitting the train station.

A word of advice though to our waitress Em on the off chance she's reading this. Dear, if you do want future westerners to be your 'boyfriend for the evening', probably best you take off the wedding ring first.