Season 2025/26 Part 1

A Fresh Start

I arrived back at Green Climbers Home at the end of September, looking forward to the new climbing season. After everything that had happened the previous year, it felt good to return. The valley looked beautiful. The rainy season had left everything a vibrant green, but there had been less flooding than the year before. As always, the jungle had reclaimed the camp. Vines climbed over buildings, grass covered the paths, and the wildlife had moved back in as if we had never left.

Surprisingly, only a few bungalows had suffered damage during the rainy season. Compared to previous years, we got lucky. We already knew we wouldn't be rebuilding the main restaurant this season. Instead, we would once again rely on our temporary outdoor restaurant. Fortunately, we had learned a lot the year before. With more time to prepare, we had a clear plan for making it more practical, more comfortable, and easier to operate throughout the season.

There were plenty of other improvements to keep us busy. The bathroom renovation continued with a new tiled floor, laid by two skilled handymen from the village. The kitchen was next. It had always been far too small, so we decided to extend the roof and nearly double the available workspace. Once again, local craftsmen took care of the construction. One of the highlights of the preparations was welcoming my good friend Chien from Hanoi. We had met during the COVID years in Vietnam. At the worst possible time, he had opened a hostel in Dong Hoi—just as the borders closed. When I found myself stuck in Vietnam, he generously offered me a place to stay for as long as I needed. We became close friends, and I was happy to finally spend time with him again after several years apart.

Chien threw himself into the work immediately. Together we repaired buildings, built parts of the new kitchen, and improved the temporary restaurant. Having an extra pair of capable hands—and good company—made the long workdays much more enjoyable. One project I had been looking forward to finally completing was upgrading the camp's water pressure.

Groundhog Day

The previous season we had bought a new water pump, hoping to give everyone proper showers after a day of climbing. Unfortunately, we quickly discovered that the old plumbing system wasn't designed for modern water pressure. Pipes and fittings started leaking everywhere, so we disconnected the pump and accepted another season of weak showers.

This year we had a full month before guests would arrive, giving us enough time to solve the problem properly.

Our strategy was simple.

Turn on the pump.

Wait for something to break.

Repair it.

Repeat.

About thirty minutes after switching the pump on, a pipe roughly thirty centimetres behind it burst on the water tower.

Pump off.

Repair.

Pump on again.

About an hour later another connection failed, this time around sixty centimetres away.

Pump off.

Repair.

Pump on.

Over the next two days we repeated this process around ten times. Every weak point in the plumbing eventually revealed itself. One by one we replaced fittings, repaired joints, and slowly worked our way through the entire system.

Eventually... nothing leaked anymore.

For the first time since I had been at the camp, we had proper water pressure. The showers were fantastic. The only thing you had to be careful with was the bum gun. Under the new pressure it had transformed from a harmless bathroom accessory into something that deserved a healthy amount of respect. With the plumbing finally behaving, the extended roof completed, and building materials arriving for the enlarged kitchen, preparations were coming together. The season was about to begin, and everything felt like it was finally moving in the right direction. Construction on the new kitchen moved forward quickly. Day by day the roof extension filled with wooden frames, shelves, and worktops. It finally started to feel like a proper kitchen instead of a cramped corner where everyone constantly got in each other's way.

Unfortunately, our victory over the water system turned out to be a little premature. After just two days, another leak appeared. Sometimes we were lucky and only had to replace a broken fitting. Other times it was a pipe buried underground. At least those leaks announced themselves with a puddle forming on the surface, telling us exactly where to start digging.

So the routine continued.

Pump on.

Find leak.

Dig.

Repair.

Repeat.

At one point it felt like it would never end. Every time we thought we had fixed the last weak point, another one revealed itself. More than once I wondered whether installing the new pump had been a mistake after all. But gradually the intervals between repairs became longer. The old plumbing system was slowly adapting—not because it had become stronger, but because we had replaced nearly every weak connection along the way. Just before our first guests arrived in October, we finally reached the point where we trusted the system enough to leave the pump running. Groundhog Day was over, for now. It had taken far more work than expected, but it was worth it.

Many of our returning guests noticed the difference immediately. After years of rather gentle showers, they suddenly had proper water pressure. It was one of those improvements people rarely mention online, but everyone appreciates after a long day on the rock.

Last preparations before opening

The kitchen was finished on schedule as well. Our Lao staff seemed genuinely happy with the redesign. A small dividing wall between the dining area and the kitchen gave them a little more privacy while cooking instead of feeling like they were constantly being watched by guests. The extra space also meant we could return to operating with a full kitchen team.

By the beginning of October, fourteen staff members were back at Green Climbers Home. The camp was green, the temporary restaurant was ready, the new kitchen was finished, the showers finally had decent pressure, and the first climbers were arriving. After weeks of preparation, the season could finally begin.