Despite the tempting prospect of a visit to the Peaks in October with the “legendary” cold weather gritstone friction a small subset of the MMC opted for a week of sport climbing in the Costa Daurada, a choice sometimes referred to by those of a mono-digit IQ as a dilemma. This was also following the tried and tested principle never to stay anywhere that boasts a drying room as part of its ‘attractions’.

The climbing on the Costa Daurada is not actually on the coast but high around the range of the Sierra de Prades, this makes it much more suitable to find accommodation near the crags rather than trying to rent a villa on the coast.

Having got a very early flight to Barcelona and stocked up with all the best fayre to be had at the Reus Carrefour and failed to visit a gear shop because they were all closed for siesta they rumbled up to the ancient village of Siurana. Siurana is a fantastic little village at then end of a windy mountain road with a great set of crags and a brilliant refuge. The refuge is set into the very rock of the mountain and the rock intrudes into the dining room which allows for interesting post supper bouldering competitions with the added spice of potentially dropping into someone else’s paella. As it happened there was no one else staying there when we showed up and the guardian (Miriam) was energetically fixing the roof having roped herself up beforehand. The MMC off loaded their luggage and busied off to get some climbing in.

The first area to receive their inexpert attention was the upper tier of sector Can Marges, a beautiful slabby piece of limestone. They got briskly into the swing of things by ascending a few 5s and 5+s and then finished off with a supposedly (according to Alan James) fluttery 6a. One thing to be noted about the Siurana crags is that although the grades are generally fair the bolts are quite well spaced with four bolts on a 20m pitch being completely unexceptional. This leads to quite significant lob potential but happily no big falls were experienced. Back at the refuge the great catering machine swung into action with copious amounts of red wine and beer.

The next day was also spent at Can Marges where all the routes up to 6a+ were gradually ticked along with a couple of the Can Melafots routes on the way back to the refuge.

The next day was spent at the Arboli roadside crags. These are not, as the name suggests, so close to the road that you can belay with an electric window but set back in a peaceful wooded glade. A light spattering of rain occurred at one point that only served to flush the two other climbers off the crag and some notable ascents of Moltes Grasses 6b and Cuencame un Cuenco 6c+ occurred without any mishap. Some had wanted to go to the famed Falco but since the easiest route there is 6b+ it seemed prudent to put it off until God or the Devil gives them the skill and confidence to attempt it.

Packing up at around 4.30 they stopped in Cornudella for a sharpener before going back to Siurana. At this point the heavens opened and a complete inundation followed. However on arriving back at the refuge the most beautiful vista was revealed as the dappled evening sun stirred up the mist over the rain-washed valley.

The next day the MMC moved house from the Siurana refuge to the La Mussara refuge. La Mussara is equally delightful though of a different mien as you can see the twinkling lights of Reus far below which makes it feel somewhat less remote. This refuge was a little busier than Siurana but most people appeared to be camping so the dormitories where quite empty. Having checked in, as best you can in a refuge, they went off to the TV crags for a bit of light climbing as the previous three days had taken their toll on the available stocks of energy, enthusiasm and finger tips. At the crag (sector Roure) they were joined by a lone Englishman, Steve, who had been driving around the climbing areas of Europe for three months. He was desperate for a climbing partner and so teamed up with our heroes and promptly knocked off Laconia 6a and Gesami 6a. Cutting short the climbing for a sightseeing trip it was mentioned that Mont Ral might be on the agenda for the next day, a nugget of information that Steve seemed to store away.

A fellow group of brits were at the Mussara refuge but of a very different stamp to the MMC. These were the lantern-jawed Sheffield types with sinuous forearms and chunky hewers with heads like leering gargoyles, while the women were lean and angular types with dour joyless faces. They tended to glory in monosyllabic pagan names such as Seth and Jud or else had unfathomably cryptic nicknames such as Dobber or Wav. They were first encountered at Can Marges where the friendly remark that Extremoduro 6b+ was quite hard was treated with utter distain. They then proceeded to romp up some fearsomely hard routes accompanied by a barrage of jocular banter ‘Appen thee’s strugglin’ on a 6c ploos tha’ great Wazzock, wait till our Seb ‘ears about this!’ Despite all this they weren’t too bad a bunch and a cordial nodding acquaintanceship prevailed.

That evening the normal climbing nosebag of pasta and vegetable slop was eschewed in favour of some decidedly non-vegetarian hamburgers fried up with onions and olive oil and washed down with the standard ration of a bottle of red per head. This was largely made possible because they had the foresight to bring a decent frying pan rather than depend upon the aluminium petri dishes that masquerade as frying pans in the normal camping cookware set. Steve loomed out of the gloaming and joined them in postprandial beer drinking. He was not actually staying at the refuge because he wanted to save money (4 Euros per night!) by sleeping rough out in the forest.

The next day the MMC went to Mont Ral. After racking up a few of the softer routes at Terranegra Steve came loping through the forest and they all then moved round to sector Arrepenjada. A concerted assault then began on the immaculate JuJu (6a+) that was eventually led cleanly by all who attempted it (see piccie). This is a fantastic technical, edgy wall climb that keeps you thoroughly gripped until the final clip. And so the day wore on, Steve managed to blag half a tortilla from a friendly Spaniard as he had brought no lunch with him and the afternoon saw another clutch of high class 6a+s given a further polishing.

That evenings Rioja helped to wash down some deep fried calamari in tartar sauce, marking a second raising of the culinary stakes.

And so to the last climbing day where Vilanova de Prades was set upon in the searing heat. Nothing much to mention here, a number of classy routes were climbed of a slightly different stamp than the rest of the region as the rock is conglomerate rather than limestone which leads to finger-busting pocket pulling.

The final day was spent nosing around Barcelona before catching a late flight home. Overall the trip was excellent and staying in the refuges gives exactly the right blend of comfort and flexibility, not to mention their exceptional value for money. Did anyone feel any envy towards the shivering crowd in the Hathersage Bunkhouse? I don’t think so!

DT