Rock climbing is taking off in the UAE as an outdoors pastime. I ’ve always thought of myself as one of those outdoorsy people, ready to embrace whatever challenge the world lays before me – providing it doesn’t involve heights. So it was with some trepidation that I heard my next assignment was rock climbing! Much as I envisaged scaling cliffs Tom Cruise-style in Mission Impossible II, I still wasn’t convinced I could pull it off, especially considering the last time I tried rock climbing, I was just nine years old. I was also doubtful about the location.
The UAE doesn’t normally spring to mind when one thinks of rock climbing, but as I did my homework, I discovered that the country is becoming one of the region’s most popular climbing hubs. And with rugged mountains, excellent year-round weather and stunning vistas, it’s no surprise. The more I thought about it, the more I wondered why people hadn’t caught on sooner. Rock climbing is taking off in the UAE as an outdoors pastime. Julianna Barnaby flexes her muscles, dons some impressive gear and takes to the mountains ready for action “Climbing in the UAE is quite a new phenomenon,” says Peter Aldwinckle of Global Climbing, our guide for the day. “Until recently, it’s been the domain of an intrepid few; people who’d climbed at home and moved over to the UAE and decided to take on the crags prevalent across much of the country. “The past few years, however, have been a revelation. More and more expats living out here have taken up rock climbing as a sport, and visitors to the country are also becoming aware of the climbing potential,” he continues. According to Aldwinckle, there are several places suitable for climbing across the UAE. Our destination today is the misleadingly named Hatta Crag. Misleading because it’s about 20km away from Hatta town and located in an Omani enclave just after Al Madam (checkpoints are lax, but it’s advisable to take passports).
THE BIG ADVENTURE
I’m feeling remarkably calm as we cruise down the road until I spy Hatta Crag looming above us, a long and unnervingly high line of limestone bluffs that tower over the surrounding flat land. I’m even more worried when Pete points to the top of the crag as our starting point for the day’s activities. The group consists of Pete, Tonie our photographer, two Dubai-based climbers Intikhab and Mike, and myself. Pete hands out helmets, odd-looking climbing shoes, harnesses and lots of water to sling in the rucksacks. “It’s a good 10- to 15-minute toil to the start. There’s a bit of scree [loose rocks] too, so watch your footing,” he advises as we set off up the incline. Although the ascent is heavy going, I’m quickly distracted by the increasingly impressive views. “If you think this is good, wait until you get to the top,” Pete laughs. When we reach the summit, Pete gives us a safety lesson, to which I pay particular attention. He shows us how to put on the harnesses, how the ropes work and talks about unfamiliar equipment such as ‘belays’ and ‘carabiners’ and how these will stop me falling if I lose my hold. After that, we put on our climbing shoes and practise on a small rock nearby. “The important thing with climbing is to plan your next move,” Pete says as I put my feet into the cramped, Day-Glo footwear. “Try to find a foothold before you move your feet. “You’ll find that the shoes make it easier for you. They mould your feet into a gripping position with your toes bent and also have a ‘sticky’ sole with excellent grip, even if you don’t have a huge amount of surface area contact,” he explains. Pete watches carefully as I clamber up and down the practice area, giving useful tips on how to improve my technique along the way. “You’ll find that you get a better grip if you let your heels point downward a bit – don’t worry, you won’t lose your footing!” he chuckles.
MOVING ON UP
Before I know it, Pete’s attaching my harness to the rope, checking that my helmet’s on correctly and that my shoes aren’t too tight and it’s all go. “You’re climbing the Slab Route 1; Severe grade trail. Follow the line of the rope to the top where we’ve attached it. Don’t hurry yourself, take it slowly, we’ve got as much time as you need. When you get to the top, give us a shout and we’ll lower you back down again.” My first thought as I look at the climb is how big it must be – at least 30 metres. Placing my hands on two small ledges, I manoeuvre myself so I am straddling the small chimney above and work my way up slowly until I’ve reached the top and move onto the left-hand wall. Finding the footholds isn’t as difficult as I’d feared. The shoes’ narrow and pointy toes are certainly handy for slipping my feet into all the little crevices, allowing my legs to do the majority of the work.
Encouragement floats up from below as I progress along the rock face I’d almost deemed impossible just a few minutes earlier. I’ve made it to the first ledge, about halfway up, and barely batted an eyelid. Although my hands are scuffed and my knees are a bit grazed, I feel great. I eagerly latch onto the rock, ready to tackle the second half – but encounter a challenge. Suddenly, I can’t see any more footholds. Well I can, but the nearest one is a little way above my hand and way out of reach of my feet. “Pete, I’m a bit stuck,” I call down. Luckily he comes to the rescue, suggesting that I get a really good grip with my hands and walk my feet on the rock up to the next foothold, explaining that the rock is rough enough for my feet to grip it, even without a proper hold. I’m not convinced, especially after the first try is unsuccessful. But then, as he makes his way up to help, something clicks and I find I can do exactly as Pete had explained and walk my feet up the sheer rock face and into the next foothold.
I can also see where the rope is fixed to the top of the rock and it’s not far away. Fixing my eye on the final point, I calculate which footholds and handholds I’ll use and then I set off. The last part is surprisingly the easiest – not only because I was so close to the finish, but because the rock was much bumpier here, with perfect crevices for levering myself up the jagged face. “I’m here!” I shout down as I pull myself up to the finishing ledge. Cheers of congratulations come up from the team in response. “Ready to come down?” Pete asks. Not quite – I’ve just caught sight of the view spread out before me. I can see for miles and miles around and everything is perfectly silent apart from the muffled conversation coming from below.
LEARNING THE ROPES
I take it all in as Pete explains how to get down. I’m to keep my feet flat against the rock and walk backwards while they lower me to the ground on the rope. “Let the rope take your weight, all you have to do is lean back as far as possible and walk your way down,” he says confidently. “Surely this is worse than climbing up,” I think as I lean back into thin air, trusting the rope and the people on the other end holding it. Step by step, I make my way down the first three metres before I reach a ledge. “Give me a second,” I shout, while trying to pluck up my fast-departing courage. I’m so focused on holding the rope and walking my way down the rock that I don’t realise how close I am to the ground until Pete’s voice is almost in my ear. “There you are, your first climb in the bag. Good work!” he laughs. Although exhilarated, I’m desperate to sit down for a hard-earned breather and a long draught of water.
Matt harnesses up and starts making his way up the rock along a slightly different route. I marvel at his agility as he quickly scales his way to the top, barely breaking a sweat, then abseils his way down again. Pete suggests that we make our way further along to the Eastern Buttress and Central Slab, where I try a previously unnamed climb, which now bears the proud title, Julianna’s Climbing F5 grade. This time I’m much more confident about maneuvering myself although there are a few hairy moments. At one point I lose my grip as I’m reaching for a particularly difficult foothold and before I know it I’m swinging towards the cliff with some extremely comical sound effects! “That’s why you don’t want to stray too far from the guide rope – if you lose your grip you’re going to have a long way to swing back. It’s better to stay as close as possible,” he advises.
Bumps and scrapes aside, it was soon time to descend and face the journey back down onto terra firma. Legs and arms aching, we’re all thrilled about today’s climbing. Everyone had a go and, looking at the beaming smiles as we all head back to the cars, everyone is pleased with the result. “Well, that’s it. It wasn’t too hard was it?” Pete asks laughingly. All I can think of as we climb into the seats is when and where I can book my next climbing trip – I’m hooked.

