Wonderwall

Turning indoor wall climbing into a metaphor because everything is just a metaphor for something

I recently took up a new hobby: indoor wall climbing. Since we arrived in Montpellier, I’ve been meaning to go to the indoor wall-climbing spots in the city, but life got in the way, and I never got to go. The last time I did this was with B and our friend Steve at Mile End Climbing Wall in East London, one of the last few activities we did before we moved to France. I’ve climbed a few times in Manila, too – at R.O.X. in Taguig, although that was child’s play compared to the ones in London and Montpellier.

It seems I have a penchant for taking up new things right before leaving. B just told me that his office has just approved our move to Rome. That means we will pack our bags soon, early next year, and leave this beautiful city. I still remember hesitating to move to a small city like Montpellier: what was there to do here? But the city has grown on me in the past two years: how it’s so close to the beach and the rivers and the mountains, how it’s just three hours away from Barcelona, how we live right in the middle of the medieval city center, a charming fifteen-minute city where I can quickly squeeze a trip in between meetings to Maison Bonnaire to buy a baguette for lunch. I also like the volunteer work I do at La Cagette, a cooperative supermarket where members need to dedicate a few hours every month to be able to purchase organic produce, mostly locally sourced from neighboring towns here in France. Despite how my conversational French falters now and then, I get to talk to the other volunteers. Voluntary labor helps keep overhead costs down for the supermarket, which makes its goods more affordable for everyone.

Anyway – back to wall climbing. What I like about it is how it’s both physically and mentally challenging. Unlike strength training, which I do during the weekdays, scaling a wall involves figuring out the path ahead of you. It’s not a routine you can easily memorize, unlike lifting weights, where you push and pull repeatedly that you just space out. At Altissimo, the wall climbing spot I go to during the weekends, I try out the different levels to challenge myself. There are automatic belaying devices for several levels, which means that I can just snap myself into one, start climbing, and descend safely once I reach the peak.

It’s a solitary activity, which I quite like. I’m not antisocial, but I realized these past few years that I enjoy my company. During the height of the pandemic, when I was physically alone in my 30-square-meter flat in Salcedo Village, I found ways to distract myself. A lot of my friends and people I know suffered in their isolation. Admittedly, I did too, but in some perverse way, I saw it as a challenge.

As a teenager, I took a month-long vow of silence during the summer break. I don’t know why I decided to stop speaking to people, but I think I was just being moody and also bored. I woke up, ate breakfast, read a book, journaled a bit, and then read more. My mother thought I was being belligerent. I guess, to some degree, it appeared so. I was an anxious, angry, and unhappy kid because my parents fought a lot. I’ve always wanted to escape that life, and I promised myself I would do everything possible to build a life for myself away from everything.

Maybe, in some way, that has been foundational to my penchant to try new things. I like to see how far I can push myself to survive great stress, if only to prepare me for even more challenges. Scaling walls seems to be a controlled environment that strengthens me for other things. Oh, and did I say I already got a ten-session pass?