Climbing Asia's Limestone Hotspots
by Mark O'Connor
"Tonsai! Tonsai!" wailed the boat driver. Despite my being the only passenger, and Tonsai being the place I had asked to go, he obviously couldn't forgo his professional duties. I dragged my 30 kilo pack onto a shoulder and hopped over the side, my feet crunching into the sand under a foot of water. The air had that thick, lush smell that you only get in the tropics - and usually in the wet season. Sweat beaded on my forehead as I trudged down the beach. The heat in Thailand is intense - humidity and a searing sun combine to make it almost unbearable during the main part of the day - especially when rock climbing. I had arranged to meet Davo at some stage during the morning, near the main part of town. I had failed to realise however, that the main part of town wouldn't be so obvious. Tonsai is tiny, and particularly quiet in the wet season. Walking sluggishly up to a restaurant at the far end of the beach I saw the scene I had hoped for, and one that justified this place's reputation. People lounging on cushions, eating pancakes and fresh fruit shakes, relaxed and chatting. Most had at least one eye on the limestone cliff - only a few metres across the golden sand - where a few climbers battled up a nasty overhanging number whilst taking some decent falls, always entertaining.
Tonsai is a part of the Krabi Province in Southern Thailand - that thin strand of earth which stretches between the Andaman Sea and the Gulf of Thailand. Locked in by the ocean and high limestone pillars, the beach surreptitiously sits between the two resort towns of Ao Nang and Railey. Tonsai was devastated by the 2006 Boxing Day Tsunami. And this, plus poor accessibility (you can only get here by boat) has kept the droves of tourists away. It is a climber's Garden of Eden - cheap, remote, and relaxed - all sitting on a gorgeous beach framed with limestone towers containing hundreds of bolted routes.
Climbing here in August provides a mixed bag of fortunes. This is the rainy season, so by 5pm most days the best place to be is in the bar, watching impressive lightning displays out to sea with a cold beer or whiskey bucket - depending on how good (or bad) your climbing day was. Rain tends to keep the droves away, so this is the low season. The crags are uncrowded, as are the few restaurants which stay open through this time. Accommodation is cheap too, about NZ $3 a night if you are willing to share and rough it a bit. Most importantly the climbing is superb. People of all levels, from humble to human spider, find their dream climb here, and then celebrate it together at the end of the day.
We started off easy, always the best way. Cruising up 'Groovetube' a 6a (they use the French system here) a 25 metre extravaganza without a boring move in sight. Next I pursued 'White Hot Hernias' a 6b+; which very nearly gave them to me. I took a nice whipper before reaching the top, sweaty and out of breath. One thing about climbing in Thailand is you have to be prepared to sweat; and in copious amounts. I sweated bucket loads each day in the often 35 + degree heat. Over three weeks we probably used more chalk than the Ukrainian Olympic Gymnastics Team.
The absolute must do climb at Tonsai is 'Humanality'. This inspiring 5 pitch line rises 100 metres straight above the bar at the end of the beach. Most people choose only to climb the first 4 pitches as we did, and what a delight they all were. The third (6b+) - and most difficult - takes the cake, sideling across the face, heading sideways as much as straight up. I led this pitch and was doing great, until 15 metres past the belay when I ran out of options. The cliff went blank, smoother than a concrete wall. I could see good holds a few metres across but how the hell was I supposed to reach them? Then a scary thought popped into my head. Turning around I found the solution to my problem. A large stalactite hung across from the cliff only a few feet away. With a lump in my throat the size of a tennis ball I stepped out across the void, trying not to pay attention to the 60 metre drop below me. Hugging the stalactite and praying to any and all Gods that it wouldn't break off, I did a sort of ungraceful pirouette and then stepped back onto the main cliff. What a cool move. These are the sort of things that make Tonsai stand out. It is truly unique.
The Ao Nang Tower is another superb multi pitch. This was perhaps the most rewarding climb of the trip, more for the adventure involved in reaching it than the climbing itself. It requires getting yourself across to a stand alone tower 50 metres off the coast. We chose a kayak as our means of transport, hauling it up out of the water before clipping it to a bolt, and climbing from there. There is something immensely satisfying about paddling up to a cliff, climbing three pitches, abseiling back down, and then paddling off again. Deep water soloing (climbing above deep water without ropes and then falling in when you can't hold on or get too scared) is a great day out. Long-tail boats can be hired for the day for next to nothing. With a picnic and a few bevies it's great laughing at your mates as they fall in. Tonsai is heaven. Two weeks really wasn't enough. However we had bigger fish to fry. After a three week stint in Vietnam, Davo and I crossed the border and headed into China, bound for the small town of Yangshou. Rumoured to be the 'new' Tonsai, Yangshou is in the south of China, about 70km from Guilin. This bustling little town is quite the contrast to Tonsai. There is no beach for one thing. But it is more the neon lights, bad disco music and hordes of tourists which make you realise you're not in Kansas anymore. Nevertheless the climbing is superb; different to Thailand in some ways, yet similar in others. Like Tonsai, it's all sport climbing on limestone, well protected and fun to climb. Unlike Tonsai however, access to the crags is a bit of a challenge. Unless of course you have a car, or hire a mountain bike like we did. The scenery around Yangshou is insane. It is a classic Karst landscape. Massive limestone towers - scattered at random over the countryside - rise out of the ground with varying heights and grandeur.
Cycling down roads and small farm tracks, armed with a guidebook and a very poor grasp of the Chinese language, really felt intrepid. Each morning over breakfast we would flick through the guidebook and pick something juicy to get stuck into. Two hours later and we would be incredibly lost up some small farm track, still searching for the correct spot.
Some of the better and more accessible climbing was at the Wine Bottle Crag - only a four km bike ride from town. Twenty single or double pitch climbs all in a row, most of them superb, made this a great little place to hang out for the day. 'The Great Wall' a 5.11d (we're into American grading now) and 'Where's the Jug?' a 5.11a share first place as the best climbs on this wall. Each move felt man-made as you sort of ambled up hoping for the next hold to be good one, then discovering it was. A lot of the walls in Yangshou are just off vertical and slightly overhanging, so you really need your strength and focus. The Banyan Tree, Moon Hill and White Mountain crags all fell into this category. If you didn't bring your A-game then you tended to spend more time in mid air than actually climbing.
Moon Hill - a huge, perfect arc of pocketed limestone- is the place to be in Yangshou. From a distance the space below the arc really does look like the moon rising on the horizon, and tourists come here in droves to see it. Luckily none of them climb. Every time we went to Moon Hill we had the wall to ourselves. Most of the climbing is massively overhanging, so we waited until the end of our trip to start hitting these routes, wanting to be as strong as possible to do the place justice. For three weeks we cycled the tracks and searched out the crags of Yangshou. There is so much potential here for new areas and climbs. It is only a matter of time before the wheels of development really start turning and there are bolts going in all over the place. So which one is better? Tonsai or Yangshou? It really is hard to say. They both offer so much in a variety of different ways. I guess the only true way for you to find out, is to go there yourself.
