Climbing Country Highpoints

 

When I consciously started climbing, just around my tenth birthday, I hadn’t really given it a thought that how cool it would be to reach the top of the mountain, far less climbing to the top of every country I would visit in future. The former consolidated in my mind when I reached my first summit atop Mt Kolahoi and witnessed the world from above. It was indescribable and absolutely divine. That climb, my first real summit, definitely sowed within me the seed of a summit - to reach there and to be able to look higher and beyond. In effect summits to me became a place from where I could see how many more summits awaited my arrival.

 

Through an extraordinary series of events when I first stepped out of India to another country, and on my first visit climbed the highest point of that country (France / Mt Blanc) it gave me another purpose for my travels, not only to discover, explore and befriend diverse people and witness glorious vistas of nature from all sorts of places, but to also try to reach the top of every country I visited.

 

As years went by and my restless feet took me to all the seven continents and to every country on the UN official list (except two) and then to many other semi-country states, who were either in the UN observation list or were self proclaimed principalities and sovereign states, I did make a conscious effort to climb to the highest point of each, besides of course exploring and basically idling around as I am known to do. So whenever I looked at a new country I would first find out how to get to the top of it, even before checking for flights and such other minor details.

 

In this post I am going to briefly narrate my adventures of climbing / reaching the top of the following ten countries since they were strange, oddball climbs and not necessarily had anything to do with climbing. Among these ten countries you wouldn’t find any mention of countries like India, Nepal, Argentina, USA, Canada, Tanzania, France, Italy, Switzerland, Peru, Bolivia, Chile, etc, etc since these are well known country high points flocked by many and even if some of these are exciting and amazing climbs they don’t merit mention in this list for reasons that you would discover shortly. Now read on and if you have done any such strange country high point climb then do let me know in comments.

 

Afghanistan (Noshaq) – at 7492m, Noshaq is the highest point in Afghanistan, the second highest peak in the Hindu Khush Mountain Range and the westernmost 7000m peak in the world. By its normal route it isn’t a difficult or highly technical climb, which can be tackled by most climbers with basic experience, provided the weather holds fast and you are well acclimatized but most important of all you need providence and in this instance the almighty on your side. Out of my several trips to Afghanistan to climb new and uncharted mountains, once I headed for Noshaq along with a friend who sponsored the entire trip. To me it would have been another regular 7000m except the fact that it was in Afghanistan, infested by rebels and gun totting youth and such other elements that had plunged the beautiful country into complete anarchy. Wakhan Corridor, where Noshaq and all high Afghan mountains are located is one of the most pristine and breathtaking mountain valleys I have seen anywhere, peopled by the super hospitable colorfully attired Ismaili folks. Here our beast of burden is always a pair of donkeys. The approach hike to Noshaq goes through heavily mined fields, relics of the Soviet invasion and the subsequent fights, hence a local guide is imperative where we literally follow the guide’s footsteps or that of his donkey. Despite years of UN coalition efforts, large swaths of both Afghanistan and neighboring Tajikistan is still riddled with unexploded and uncharted personal mines and it is common to see warning signs in the middle of nowhere.

 

On the second day of our approach march, we formed a sort of line, with our muleteer cum guide leading the way, followed by one donkey, followed by my friend then I and behind me at a safe distance the second donkey. It was a dry landscape with peaks jutting out all around and everything seemed as normal as possible. And suddenly without any warning a stentorian explosion occurred behind me that not only shook the earth and deafened me but the shock wave of the explosion threw me upon ground as mud and rock debris flew overhead. With my war experiences of past I knew I had just heard and felt the blast of a sizeable mortar. Was Taliban firing bazookas at us, were we under attack or had a war started… such thoughts raced through my head as I buried myself in ground. After a while our guide, in his broken Urdu and mix of Arabic and Pashto, shouted if we were ok. I raised my head to find my friend sprawled like me upon ground and nodding his head trying to clear his head and ears from the high pitched ringing. Otherwise both he and I seemed to be in one piece. I stood up and looked around. While everything ahead of me looked fine, behind me the earth had been uprooted severely for a considerable distance and of our second donkey there was no visible sign. It seemed it had disappeared right into thin air. As our guide screamed and rushed past me, I realized that somehow our donkey porter had stepped out of the track, perhaps in search of grass, and stepped upon a personal mine that simply blew it away into smithereens.

 

For muleteers at such remote places, a mule is worth its weight in gold. Our guide searched in vain for his donkey, of which not even a shred remained. It had simply vaporized. We only found some of its skin and guts and bones plus million debris of our provisions. All our expedition supplies had gone up in literal smoke. Our expedition was over before it began. As the utter hopelessness of the situation dawned upon me while gazing at the raving and ranting guide, the nonplussed demeanor of the other donkey and my friend’s mud caked goggle eyed face I just burst out laughing. I think for that instant I had gone completely mad. We returned, paid the guide for a new donkey and after few days, with fresh supplies headed back. That year only the two of us climbed Noshaq and it was beautiful but for some reasons most of that climb I can recall today is of the day when our donkey blew up.

 

Azerbaijan (Bazarduzu) – at 4466m Bazarduzu is the highest peak in Azerbaijan and it also stands on the northern boundary between Azerbaijan and Russia. It is a fairly remote mountain and not difficult in technical terms but it is difficult nigh impossible now to get a permit. When I first thought of Azerbaijan and dashed off a mail to the local climbing organization they heartily welcomed me to climb in Azerbaijan but cautioned that due to the border skirmishes and such other things Bazarduzu was totally off limits even for Azerbaijan mountaineers. No permits were being issued. So I put my Azerbaijan trip on hold at that time and went elsewhere. Little did I know that destiny had other plans for me. Several years later I was invited by the country to come and train their high altitude soldiers in tactical climbing. And as you can guess I readily took up the offer stating that we can only train in and around Bazarduzu region. After that it was red carpet all the way to the top of the mountain and back to Baku, not to mention an extended stay at Baku’s most luxurious hotel, all expenses paid and a near diplomatic immunity while in the country. As a mountain guide and trainer I am used to my client’s and friends paying for my trips and expenses but never before or after was I accorded such all-expenses paid trip, except one, which I will mention below.

 

Belgium (Signal de Botrange): at 694/700m Belgium high point can be reached by a bus, now that isn’t a novelty in itself because there are few more countries where you can drive up to the high point in a car. To me Signal de Botrange remains significant because on that day I had summitted the highest point of two countries within a span of under 12 hours. Starting from Amsterdam, racing to Vaalserberg (322m highest point of Netherlands), I had walked down into Belgium and then a combination of train, bus and afoot, reached Signal de Botrange and climbed the 6m stone step tower to 700m and drank a steaming cup of coffee from the shop by the road. While I watched several other tourists screaming in glee, throwing high five’s to celebrate their climb and looked at the snow covered fields stretched beneath, I had wondered where my restless heart would take me next.

 

Brunei (Bukit Pagon): being a country, Brunei must have been in my country wish list but I had never actually given it a serious thought. It always remained a vague foggy idea, which I may or may never visit. One of the richest, tiniest and safest countries in the world had little to attract me. Though it has amazing biodiversity, it had no mountains. It only boasted of beaches and jungles and a strict Islamic regime. None appealed to me. But then again, destiny intervened when one day I received an invitation from none other than the Sultan’s family inviting me to visit Brunei as a royal guest. This has to be strangest invitation I have ever received in my life. Not only was the Sultan the second wealthiest royalty in the world but who hadn’t heard of his eccentric collection of super luxurious cars numbering over 7000 that is the largest such collection in the world! The invitation mentioned that I was to interact with the Sultan’s family, his niece in particular, who wanted to be the first Islamic lady to go to South Pole, and for some insane reason they felt that I was the best person to advice the lady on her dream project. Now an all expense trip paid up by the Sultan of Brunei is not to be taken lightly. As I read more about the country and its strict regime, much to the dismay of human rights watchers, I felt a sort of foreboding. Public beating and executions were not uncommon and if I laid my eyes with even the tiniest vile intent upon any woman I could be decapitated or minus a limb. For once I knew that flirting or fraternizing of any kind with any species of the Brunei fairer sex was not only out of question but not even to be entertained in my wildest dreams. And any misdemeanor or ill mannered joke with the Sultan’s niece would certainly curtail my earthly voyage.

 

I am a lady’s man, you all know, and this bleak prospect of going to a new country but unable to make female friends dampened my spirits to a great extent. I mean what else I can do in a country that has beaches and forests and no mountains. Declining the invitation wasn’t an option, as it had been made clear by my military bosses. It had come directly from the Sultan to our Min of Ex Affairs. So I looked for a mountain, anything with an upward slope and lo and behold I discovered the 1850m high Bukit Pagon. Now I had a purpose. Besides my swimming trunks, I packed my waterproof ankle length hiking boots in my bag. When I was shown into the first class cabin of the Royal Brunei flight from Bangkok to Bandar Seri Begawan (BSB) I knew that for once I was flying into a country with style. The captain greeted me personally and even welcomed me over the intercom, letting everyone know that I was a royal guest.

 

At BSB two secret service lookalikes were waiting for me at the runway. They whisked me straightway from the tarmac inside a stretch Limo and we soon reached the palace. To say I was awestruck would be an understatement. For a day I completely forgot Bukit Pagon. I had my quarters in the upper east corner of the royal guest house, which was the size of a palace. Every wish, other than that of a fair company, was fulfilled even before I uttered them. The princess called upon me in the evening. Her impish charm and western upbringing immediately unburdened my mind. A more delightful creature I couldn’t imagine. Having studied abroad all her life, in the world’s finest academia, she was a divine grace. We hit it off right from the word go. She didn’t object when I kissed her upturned palm to pay my respects. I joined her family at dinner that night and even met the Sultan briefly who seemed courteous.

 

Next day the princess and I went around, as she showed me the charms of her country, I discussed her plan for South Pole. We spend the entire day together discussing how she could train, the best possible equipment, location, food and diet regimen, etc. And though I would have loved to be her trainer, I couldn’t because of my work and also because I wasn’t the best person in the world to train and guide her for the South Pole. I got her connected to my friend, a polar skiing veteran, who would train, guide and mentor the princess. And then I asked her if she could arrange for me to go to Bukit Pagon. To my utter surprise and delight she not only arranged for everything but actually came with me. It was perhaps the shortest climb of my life. We flew in her chopper along with her royal butler and got dropped right at the foot of the prominent peak. Brunei’s most accomplished mountaineer was our guide. At a quick trot we reached the top in about 3 hours where the butler spread our picnic basket. Thereafter the chopper plucked us up from the top and shortly we landed at the palace. Ridiculous and unbelievable as this whole episode may seem, it really did happen in exactly this manner. I never visited Brunei ever again and didn’t keep in touch with the princess either. There was no point in it after all. She and I belonged to two entirely different worlds. To add a rejoinder, if you are interested, the princess eventually couldn’t achieve her dreams as her royal duties took precedence. And one of her friends became the first and only Brunei woman to have skied to South Pole in 2009. And yes, I did have a role to play in this expedition.

 

Cambodia (Mt Oral): at 1813m Mt Oral (Aural) located amidst the cardamom mountains is a tiny peak, yet remote and could be demanding to climb, if you opt to climb it self guided (like I did). Nowadays many tourists go to this peak with organized trips by the local villagers and porters. I decided to go for it unguided or self-guided and had presumed that it would be a breeze. After talking to some people and whisking through the info available online, I planned for a trip of two days and one night. A random Russian girl joined me. I told her it won’t be easy as I had very little clue where exactly the mountain existed, but the long suffering Russian race is ignobly thick headed therefore they do make great partners in crazy adventures. We came across all sorts of hazards including inebriated local village elders who wouldn’t let us go unescorted, exotic wildlife including mammoth snakes, tropical heat, pouring rain, blood sucking mosquitoes and such other pests, cuts and bleeding bruises, torn tee shirts, acute dehydration, cold chill, innumerable lost trails and few snide remarks from my otherwise remarkably composed companion. Eventually when we did reach the tiny wooden shelter marking the summit, we did give each other a delighted life-threatening hug. It was a victory for Indo-Russian collaboration. There were no flags to unfurl or selfies to be clicked, since both our phones had died and soaked, so we shared a tiny packet of salted peanuts and couple of dried alfonso mangoes even as the rain blurred our visions and swore never to climb again anywhere in Cambodia. Oh yes, just before I flew out of Siam Reap I did nick into Angkor Wat and climbed every possible high pagoda within. After all a monkey can never give up on his tricks. Oh, what happened to my Russian friend, you want to know! Now that’s a mystery even I would like to solve.

 

Fiji (Mt Tomanivi): why, you might wonder, a 1324m high dormant volcano in a Pacific Island nation that is primarily a sea and beach destination, should find mention in my list! Easy to reach, once you are in Fiji of course, and often climbed by tiny tots in slippers, it is perhaps my most beautiful climb of an under 1500m peak in the world. Surrounded by lush green forests and to see the entire canopy under you is marvelous and so is to watch the sun set from the summit. There’s often a mist shrouding the top and the forests all around.

 

Guatemala (Tajumulco): rising to 4220 m Tajumulco is the highest peak of Central America and an extinct volcano with twin peaks. Not knowing anyone in Guatemala, armed with pidgin Spanish, when I landed in Guatemala City (an infamous city where most tourists fear to travel solo) I had little clue as how I could get to Tajumulco. Yet just outside the immigration I met a lanky kid lounging around, who promptly came forward and offered to be my local guide in exchange of taking care of his travel expenses and for him to practice his English. This boy, now I forget his name, was a godsend boon. I took him under my wings and that started an exciting adventure through Guatemala that eventually concluded in the Mayan ruins of Tikal. This boy first took me to his sister’s house in Guatemala City, showing off that the public bus there had free wifi. I was amply surprised. Then we went to the market to buy provisions for the couple of climbs I had in mind. In the market the boy told me to be careful as someone could simply chop off my head and rob me. Once again I was amply surprised. Next day we left for the city of San Marcos the nearest town to the mountain. My aim was to climb Tajumulco first and then climb all the other high peaks of Guatemala. We climbed one after another the four highest peaks of Guatemala and this boy proved to be an amazing companion. He was barely 15 and always eager to help. In those weeks of our trip he improved his English, as I did with my Spanish. We ate enormous amount of exotic fruits, walked and hiked like crazy and had so much fun. What makes Tajumulco so memorable is that it remains till date the only country high point where I actually camped and slept the night through. We found some snow and the crater was flat enough so I suggested to my guide why don’t we sleep there. He readily agreed. We had a blissful night of star watching and gossiping right inside Tajumulco.

 

Luxembourg (Kneiff Hill): by my own definition a country visit is counted only if I have spent at least 48 hours continuously within its sovereign international boundary. Now there are few exceptions to this self-imposed criteria. Luxembourg is one such country (few others being Vatican City, Palestine, Monaco, San Marino, and some of the Caribbean island nations). I had wrapped up Luxembourg in the matter of a bit more than half a day while transiting from Belgium to Germany on a pleasant autumn day. Kneiff Hill is barely 560m and it is very difficult to find its exact location as it is somewhere within a farming field decked with green grass and one solitary tree and a benchmark, which isn’t the highest spot though close enough. It is along a highway hence easy to reach by car or public bus. There’s absolutely nothing to see or admire from this point, just green grassy fields all around. Perhaps the least interesting country high point of all as it doesn’t even have a marker pole or plaque. In short no one gives a damn in the country about it. And I can totally understand the point. Luxembourg, outside the capital city, no one gives a damn.  Well there are two reasons why I include this country high point in my list: firstly it is the most unremarkable country high point ever and secondly I reached here without the least intent, interest, knowledge or efforts. I just reached here, while hitching a ride from a petite blond with kindly disposition who offered to give me a lift. As we zoomed along the road and I gazed at the flat landscape she suddenly chirped if I would be interested in stepping upon the highest point of the country. That knocked me silly since I couldn’t see anything remotely resembling a highpoint within my visible horizon. Never to give up on an adventure I nodded my head. She screeched to a halt, parked on the grass and gleefully led the way to the tree and said that we were either on the spot or very close to it. She dropped me at the capital city and I thanked her for her kindness by offering to buy her a cup of coffee. She relented. We had a delightful time. In the afternoon when I boarded the bus to Germany I swore that never again would I step into Luxembourg. I never did.

 

Monaco (Chemin des Revoires): the most densely populated country with only sea and casinos, fast cars  and tennis stars to boast would be a ridiculous destination for me to visit and I never had any intentions of visiting Monaco ever. But destiny decided otherwise. One day when I found myself in the nearby French mountains, and had few hours to dispose and a willing friend with a car to drive around, I decided that I should at least dip into this ridiculous country. The moment we started going south towards Monaco, the first thing that I looked up online where on earth in Monaco is its highest point. Not surprisingly it was a street point. What else can you expect in such a country. It was called Chemin des Revoires and measured anything between 162 to 170 m above msl. After the customary walk upon the Riviera, clicking pics of my friend in front of the yachts and a hasty looksey at the famous casino we headed for this street. Soon we found it. Leaving my friend in the car, since there’s no place to park in all of Monaco, I took to my feet. There are a series of elevators and steps, whichever you prefer to take. But soon enough I came to a barricaded flight of elevators with a well appointed guard on the other side who looked like the first cousin of Luke Cage. He eyed me and eye balled him back. He was black I was dark. He was huge I was tiny. But I can hold a stare glare for long. He asked the reason of my presence. I told him my query. He said that I could go to the garden spot opposite as it was the place where people came for Monaco’s highest point selfie. But that didn’t satisfy me as I could clearly see that beyond the barricaded gate the flight of stairs led higher. To my eyes the roof of that building was technically the highest spot of Monaco. We had a brief discussion within which I was able to convince him that I was his long lost Indian cousin and the sole reason of my life up till that point had been to go to the highest point of Monaco. And had spend all my life’s savings in making the journey from India to Monaco, not to mention the kind of perils I had to face once I entered France. He took pity, I looked harmless enough. He let me in with a caution that I had exactly five minutes to get to the roof and get out. I sprinted, looked around from the roof at more roofs, thankfully all below me, and sprinted back faster than Bugs bunny. I flashed him a smile of gratitude and he flashed back his silver dentures. I must admit that Monaco highpoint literally got me breathless. It was and is the fastest high point ascent of my life.

 

Mali (Mount Hombori Tondo): I first saw the mountains of Mali in a talk of the legendary Catherine Destivelle and purely the sight of the mountains propelled me to undertake a trip to Mali when it was still not on any tourist agency’s list. Only hard core climbers and explorers used to visit Mali in those days. It was difficult to get there, it was ravaged by war, famine, epidemics and largely shunned and forgotten by the world. I went with my French climbing friends with the intent of climbing Hombori massif and the finger of Fatimah. It was an incredible climb of this impressive 1153m table top lump of rock and mud. The remoteness and the sparse landscape coupled with the local tribal population and the splendid climb, all makes this country high point memorable to me. That was my first and last visit to Mali.

 

With that I would conclude this post. There were many more interesting, exciting and oddball country highpoint climbs and it is not possible to pen each one of them. Perhaps one day a book would do justice to my country highpoint adventures.

 

Note: in case you are wondering, my most repeated climb of a country highpoint goes to Mt Olympus (Mythikas) in Greece. I have been to the top of Greece 8 times till now and have climbed Mt Olympus in all seasons (summer, winter, spring and autumn) and from every possible route. I cannot make a similar claim to any other mountain or any other country highpoint in the world.