CHAPTER 41
I was up early. Still slightly out of synch with local times, and also a little sore in the forearms. The routes with Vern had been fine, apart from the need to fiddle about for ages with those lunatic Aussie bolts. I could imagine how that must push local climbing grades: if you can climb E4 while gibboning like an idiot to place pro, then the silly grades must be that much easier.
I took my laptop down to the kitchen, sneaking past the sleeping beauties and brewing a cuppa as I searched for details about those granite cliffs near ‘Maggie River’. I found a site called ‘The Crag’, which gave decent photo topos as well as rather abbreviated route descriptions, but, well, beggars and choosers. Kettle boiled, tea poured, bowl of cereal before me, and Maryam walked in.
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