BRITS ABROAD A n
A l t e r n a t i v e
B e n i d o r m
Through the eyes of a non-climber guidebooks must appear nothing more than sewn and bound pages populated by glorified lists, logistics and images of rock. Yet to climbers, it is these books of biblical status that provide opportunities of life-altering experiences and adventure, with each page possessing the power to inspire a climber for a lifetime. Sprawled across a bookshelf opposite me lay my modest collection of guidebooks, the spines presenting the names of iconic British climbing areas such as Gogarth, Tremadog, Langdale and Yorkshire. To me, the importance of this small collection of books is comparable to that of the Vatican Library, the array of pages documenting endless hours of British exploration, centuries of ground breaking achievements and the lives of those devoted to rock. Although these books have already provided me with countless memorable experiences I know they hold many more. An all too familiar dank evening in May saw our intentions of climbing sabotaged and once again we were forced back to the van, where whilst taking refuge from the elements we consulted the guidebook and reviewed our alternatives. Usually at this point flasks would be drawn, brews poured and a plan devised, though this time the latter was postponed. Conversation shifted toward the Costa Blanca guidebook sat in the back and we soon began devouring photos of mountain crags and sun kissed limestone. The seed was planted, it was swiftly agreed that the Continent would alleviate our reoccurring problems and escaping the British weather was priority.
At a glance the guidebook had sold Costa Blanca to me and I eagerly awaited the reliable weather, rural scenery and diverse climbing it had to offer. The area covers a 200km stretch of coastline in the Alicante province of Spain leaving a broad variety of possible destinations, though this left me curious to find out where exactly we were heading. The following week my queries were put to rest, our flights to Alicante were booked and accommodation at The Orange House confirmed. I was thrilled to know I’d shortly be basking in the sun surrounded by dry rock though one detail deeply concerned me. We were on course to Benidorm. A combination of dread and stereotypes of the popular tourist destination began to creep over me. My brain became flooded with images of first-time holidaymakers, leather back OAP’s and drunken lager louts sporting England vests in search of Carlsberg and Cabaret. I continued to ask myself what Andy was thinking, where we would fit into this cocktail of British tourists and most importantly how I’d drag myself back to a conventional holiday hell every night. On arrival, the three of us squeezed ourselves and luggage into our unaccommodating Fiat 500 rental car and headed for ‘The Dorm’. Whilst navigating the motorways via a meagre map with difficulty I felt content, my initial fears began to subside as we immediately became engulfed by vast mountain ranges and quaint orange groves, which scattered the roadside.
Arriving at The Orange House first impressions were positive, it felt reticent, sparsely populated and accommodating toward climbers. We were lead to our bunkhouse, detached from the main house, which took the form of a modest concrete cube consisting of four walls, a roof and three camping beds. Although slightly primitive it provided all the necessities we desired.
which Jamie’s answer was ‘punk stew’. This uninspiring meal consists of any available veg and condiments topped with rice and a tin of tuna for the non-vegan, this was prepared and consumed every night without hesitation. Following Jamie’s streak of culinary genius we sat down to dinner and gained some local knowledge from fellow climbers over a bottle of Spanish red.
Now briefly acquainted with our home for the week, we were keen to cut to the chase and sample the limestone delights we came for. So, we hastily dismissed the Fiat of its cargo and embarked toward the nearest crag Castellets. Castellets sits proud upon a serrated ridge sandwiched between the Sella Valley and Puig Campana presenting an exposed position and ethereal setting for a days climbing. The ridge is formed by a myriad of summits connected by cumbersome square cut arêtes and appears to brandish an abundance of rock though actually provides only a few solid faces. Although the result is a reasonably limited selection of routes it offered an effective introduction to Alicante’s limestone, which proved to be hard to judge, unforgiving on skin and in the words of Andy “feels like space walking”.
The following morning we awoke bright and early to sit down to breakfast and consider our options for the day, after making light work of breakfast we decided to head to sector Pared de Rosalia.
As the night began to draw in we headed back to The Orange House satisfied with our first taste of local rock and settled down for an early night and some much needed grub. Given the dietary needs of a coeliac and a vegan the potential for our menu panned out to be extremely slim, to
Despite being the least popular area in Sella, the extensive wall is host to a large variety of quality routes throughout the grades with something to offer everyone. Further more, facing north the crag provides cool conditions in the hottest of weather, perfect for those in pursuit of hard climbing in the shade. The vertical nature of the face accommodates long and thin face climbs on small pockets and edges and as a result tends to cater more for the technical climber than the powerhouse. We spent the majority of the day at Pared De Rosalia where every route we climbed was in its own right notable. As a result the crag stands out as one of the best limestone crags I’ve climbed on which left me puzzled as to why more people don’t endure the walk up there. As the evening unfolded the temperature began to drop, so we ventured over to the opposing sector Culo de Rino to soak up the remnants of the sun.
Regardless of the fact we had heard mixed views on the sector, we were intrigued and fascinated by the routes we had seen that evening and were keen to return and explore for ourselves. After little debate the next day saw us back at Sella, this time to put to rest the controversy of sector Culo de Rino.
Our last day in Alicante had arrived prematurely and our agenda was yet to be decided. Provided with endless amounts of potential it was difficult choosing our final destination though after little deliberation it was settled. We all agreed we had yet to be disappointed and were game for anything.
You could only describe Culo de Rino as a convenience crag with it being situated less than 100m from parking facilities. Facing south it catches the sun year round and is well sheltered from the wind by the surrounding trees creating a perfect quick drying winter venue. Routes of diverse styles and varying angles compose the crag, catering for both climbers looking for steep lines on jugs and tufa’s and those in search of sustained fingery face climbs. Despite the contrasting opinions, we found the climbing at Culo de Rino to be excellent. Being quite cool the sun on offer was much appreciated by Andy and Jamie as they made light work of the hard routes on offer, this combined with me achieving my hardest climb to date made for a memorable days climbing.
At a glance Vall de Guadar or Echo Valley looked promi sing, its scenic mountainous setting and long routes within close proximity to The Orange House would allow us to squeeze in as much climbing as possible. Without pause we closed in to the valley, I was in awe of the masses of rock and the beautiful setting and felt comfortable we had made the right decision. Vall de Guadar is a rockribbed defile that slices through the mountains framing the Ponoch, Its mountainous surroundings provide major faces and airy positions with a beautiful backdrop to boot. We got to work climbing many of the routes there, which epitomized Andy’s term ‘space walking’ and brought a pleasant closure to the trip.
Back at camp the weather began to take an unexpected turn, after checking the forecast it became apparent our only chance of climbing the following day would be to travel north toward more appealing conditions. Gandia stood out as the safest option for us with it being sheltered from rain due to its steep nature, so it was decided. As we arrived it was a relief to escape the drizzle and sit in the sun above the orange filled valley with the walls of Gandia leering over us. Though the weather continued to toy with us throughout the morning, in the evening there was no shortage of sun and tops came off in exchange for some much needed power. Formed by an abundance of caves integrating steep lines on pockets and knobbly tufa’s, the quality routes on offer here lie higher in the grades and for this reason the crag is more suited to the experienced climber. Facing south there is no shortage of sun and this combined with it steeps faces meant many of the routes we climbed that day were not won without a fight. I would highly recommend Gandia to anyone climbing in the higher grades wanting to experience super steep climbing absent in Britain.
Although Benidorm is often reflected as a watering hole for Brits abroad, following the trip it is evident why it is becoming progressively recognized amongst climbers as one of the best winter escapes Europe has to offer, with the desirable weather and the masses of rock attracting visitors from all over the globe. The combination of cheap flights, accommodation and a two-hour journey provide an incredibly accessible and affordable destination for British climbers in particular. These factors are only part of Benidorms appeal, for me it is the variety, quality and amount of routes, which are the real attraction. Brilliant climbs throughout the grades are presented by a variety of settings from roadside crags to sea cliffs, consequently providing something for everyone. As a result of the first experiences I’ve had of Benidorm, I couldn’t recommend it enough to those looking to escape bleak winter months on grit stone.