I went with one of my best friends (see left silhouette) and left another one of best friends (Hammy) behind. He sounded like he would have liked to come, but we went without him because it was for the greater good.On the way up we made constant complaints to each other about how our feet were sore and we were out of breath- and it didn't occur to us until we had finished the whole mountain climbing thing that we were complaining about being out of breath whilst we were out of breath. Life is easier if you complain about things. My legs still hurt.
On the way up I suggested that we carry a stick- to break spider webs and stuff. We decided on taking these more "adventurous" routes, which meant that we walked on muddy rocky steep surfaces as opposed to the proper path laid out for us. So anyway, we decided to name the stick.
"Sticky!" we said in synchrony. Then we commented on our originality. I must have referred to the stick as a "he" during the conversation, because my friend said, "oh, is it a he now?"
"Yeah, why would you name a girl Sticky?" I asked rhetorically.
Then I made some crude joke about boys and sticks. Heh. I proceeded to ask my friend what the stick would be named if it was a girl.
"Sticker... Stickerine." my friend suggested.
...Get it? Stick-er-ine? Oh the wittiness.
It was a day well spent- we had fun climbing a mountain that would have taken us far less effort, if we were fitter. I acted like an Asian tourist and insisted on taking a photo every 10 minutes. The weather was perfect, the temperature was perfect, and the whole experience wasn't even that bad. Except for the part where my legs hurt. That was bad. In fact my legs hurt for the entire duration of the exercise. But that aside, it was fun.
...Not that I'll ever want to climb that thing again.
Here's a typical Asian-tourist picture
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