The following days we rest a bit, do some kayak-sight-seeing further into the fjord and go searching for deep water soloing. A more suitable name for what we find is probably shallow water bouldering, but never the less it’s a nice afternoon activity in the hot sun and pleasantly cooling water.

For the second climb we have scouted a route close to the entrance of the fjord. We decide to keep the camp further into the fjord as it is a good starting point for the mountain hike we plan for the following days, meaning we start the day with a couple of hours of paddling before we arrive at the beach where we start the climb. No doubt there is plenty of loose rock at this route as well, but the climbing is relatively easy on most of the pitches and we make steady but slow progress up the wall on another sunny and warm day.

For reasons hard to understand in retrospect, at the start we expected to be up and down again in something like four hours. Now, after four hours on the wall we estimate that we are just a bit higher than half way up and we realize that we will not be able to top out and rappel down in daylight. Due to the abundance of loose rocks and plenty of things to get the rope stuck in, we are by now less than eager to rappel down in general and especially not in the dark. A plan B is starting to form; traverse a couple of ridgelines in a big circle down to the beach. Not being able to overlook the complete traverse there is a risk that we will need to rappel anyway, or worst case spend the night up on the mountain, but the nights have been warm and we have enough snacks to manage until the next morning if needed.

As if meant to be, we top out just as the sun sets and are rewarded by an intensely purple sky and great views over the Strait of Hormuz. The way down turns out to be relatively straightforward, with some scrambling and a few tricky spots but no need to use rope at any point. Five hours after topping out, it is a tired but very satisfied team that arrives at the kayaks back on the beach.

It is another completely calm night in the fjord and everything is silent when we peacefully glide through the water on our way back to camp. Then, out of nowhere (well, the pitch black ocean..), fish start to jump out of the water around and onto the kayaks. One crashes into my chest, flaps around on my spraydeck for a few seconds and then just as quickly disappears down into the dark water again - leaving me with a rather high pulse, wondering what the hell just happened! Hearing my shout, at least Alan and Aniek got a good laugh from the whole thing. All in all a truly memorable day (and night) out!

Without logic or reasoning behind it, the route gets the name “Taste the paste”, borrowed from the marketing slogan of the tomato paste that spiced up our tuna every lunch throughout the week.