When Kartini nervously takes to the trail, the wis
However, this solo wanderer gained much more than Pete’s pleasant company on that hike. Even as I marvelled at his ability to narrate long and hilarious stories while climbing that slope without breaking a sweat, he departed more useful tips that made it all that much easier. Meanwhile, I was pathetically panting and gasping for air, and could only manage weak giggles and smiles in response to his entertaining anecdotes. My mind, however, was busy scribbling notes.
So, for posterity and so that other wannabe hikers may be saved some grief, I include some tips gleaned from the wisdom of Pete.
The ground we were walking on (and as I later found, in much of Cappadocia as well) was soft and crumbled easily. Pete said, “I notice your feet keep slipping, and that takes up a lot of energy. Look for rocks like these” � he pointed one out, well embedded in the earth, kicked it to show that it was firmly in there � “and step on these ones, and you’ll find it a lot easier.” He places the middle of his boot squarely on the rock and painlessly moves up another step. Point illustrated and proven. Wow.
It’s precisely things like that which I want � no, need � to know. That, and how to breathe.
“In through your nose, and out through your mouth. Otherwise you’ll need about half a litre more water. This saves the moisture loss from your body.” People think that such things as basic as breathing need not be taught. You would be surprised how clueless some people (like myself) can be, and the difference that breathing tips have made to my life.
“You know how you take these deep breaths when you stop? How about taking some before you start, and while you’re walking.” I was so relieved that Pete had been true to his word when he had said that we can stop as often as we like. “When you just start off from a rest, take small, steady steps. Give your body time to adjust. Otherwise you may find you get dizzy and lightheaded.”
Yup. I did. He knew it, even before I did. Pete was amazing, and he totally changed my attitude to hiking with a guide. But what made Pete a terrific guide was not the immensely useful pointers he gave, the funny stories he told, not even how he kept pointing out the view to show how far we had come. It was the vibes he sent off, his attitude throughout.
He did not merely live up to his promise of “go at your own pace,” his eyes conveyed just how okay he truly was with it too. They were neither accusatory nor sympathetic. In essence, they conveyed nothing. Not impatience, not amusement, not worry. And that, for me, was the best view of the whole hike.
The other gem about Pete was that he somehow knew just how much to push. All of us went just beyond our personal limits that day, but to a reasonable extent. He pointed out a rock jutting out over a cliff on the way down. He warned us not to scale it if we were not confident, so I stayed behind.
Watching the others in the group scrambling up that sheer rock, cautiously and precariously crawling up on all fours to a view that must have been indescribably beautiful, I felt the pangs of jealousy stirring within me. My trembling knees made sure I stayed put though. When the group was at the top of that rock and wanted a picture taken, Pete merely jogged up there as effortlessly as though he were skipping over a puddle. Later though, he commended me for knowing my limits and not going up there. For he said, all it takes is one slip, trip and broken ankle, and your whole hike would be ruined.
The lunch he prepared for us certainly earned him Brownie points as well. Whoever knew that bread, vegetables and cheese could taste so good? With the fresh air up there and the endorphins pumping through our bodies, we were very happy to spend a bit of time sitting there munching on our sandwiches. We were so glad that the hardest part of the hike was now behind us, that we did not even bother to go up to see the Lost City. It would have taken another hour and a half, and by that point, the girls just wanted to get to the beach. We had reached our limit.
Pete told us about a couple of natural springs in the area, so we went in search of them for water refills and to cool off in the now-unbearable heat. The water was delicious and ice-cold. Just as we were about to start a wet T-shirt contest, one of the girls screamed and did a little run which looked more like an Irish jig. Something was moving, rustling in the long grass, and the first thing that popped into our minds was, “Snake!” We took a closer look and had a good laugh. It was nothing more sinister than a tortoise, which turned out to be the most exciting “wildlife” sighting on that hike.
So, even though the elevation we reached was nothing to brag about, and the animals we saw (most were dead)were nowhere near safari material, we all achieved a natural high on that hike, from stretching our limits just so. Pete remains my all-time hero, for to get this city gal balancing on stones (with confidence too!) on the hike down, and itching for her next hike even as her body shivered from fatigue, takes something truly special. The sense of accomplishment at the end of the hike gave me a new burst of energy, and I was all ready to jump into the cold Mediterranean for my well-deserved swim.