Welcome aboard Bon Voyage Airline, bound for your destiny. Your flight time may be long, and undoubtedly frightening. Some turbulence is expected, and the outcome is more than uncertain.

Once upon a time, there was a route in Annot, in the hinterland of Nice, established by James Pearson at the beginning of 2023, and repeated for the first time by the one and only Adam Ondra in February 2024. After months of reflection, James proposed the grade of 9a/E12, making it one of the hardest trad routes, if not the hardest, in the world. This route is called Bon Voyage, and it lives up to its name: the process, with all its twists and turns, that I experienced clearly looked like a good journey!

The route starts with a beautiful crack and then traverses left onto an impressive and blank wall. The idea that a route could be climbed free on cams on this wall is akin to magic. A big bravo to the magician James for having the vision and perseverance to see his "Bon Voyage" through to the end!

The difficulty of the route begins after about twenty meters of climbing: 12 intense and complex moves, demanding on the fingers, ending on an incredible arête far to the left. The section itself could probably be rated 8c or 8c+, and it is quite committing. However, as Adam said, it is "probably safe" with a good belayer. Nevertheless, there is a rocky peak, a "guillotine", a few meters below the final arête, which is rather intimidating. I believe that a bad fall at the wrong time, with just a bit too much slack in the rope, could likely result in a severe impact.

I first tried Bon Voyage in April 2023 for half an hour after my flash ascent of its easier variant "Le Voyage". I was immediately captivated by the route and decided it would be one of my main objectives for 2024.

That's why I returned to Annot at the end of February this year, just days after Adam Ondra's quick ascent, with the firm intention of tackling the route! From the first session, I forced myself to lead climb to get used to placing protection and falling. My progress was quite fast, and by the third session, I thought I could do the whole hard section in one go, but apparently, my journey wasn't planned that way. The crux move of the route is a big move to the left from a tiny mono-pocket that only the pinky finger can fully enter, a very aggressive and particular move. As I was trying the section with very good sensations, OUCH: I felt a sharp pain and shock in my hand and forearm... Diagnosis: a small tear of the lumbrical muscles inside the hand. So, this first journey ends abruptly, and it is with frustration and, above all, a strong desire to return that I leave Annot!

Two weeks later, I'm back! My finger is a bit better, but I'm not fully healed. I can easily climb using four fingers, but I feel pain whenever my ring and pinky fingers are separated. I'm hesitant to resume the process so quickly, but the temptation to return to Bon Voyage is too strong: the route haunts me, and the weather for the next few days is perfect. A voice inside me says I can try again despite the small injury, that I could change my method on the crux move, use another finger, and it should probably work for the other moves.

I spend two sessions trying to regain good sensations, recalibrate the moves, and get used to leading the beginning. Then, after a day of rest, I feel ready for some "A muerte" attempts!

That day, I make a good effort and fall at the crux from the ground. I feel quite close to finishing the work. Unfortunately, upon returning to the ground, I notice that I have severely torn my skin on the crucial hold, that damn mono-pocket, during my attempt, and I have a deep cut. Impossible to try again... So, I decide to take two days of rest and do everything to heal this injury as quickly as possible.

On March 19, 2024, I return to the cliff after two days of rest. My motivation is at its peak; I'm eager to get back at it! My skin has more or less healed, but I feel it won't hold up for long. During the warm-up, I test the move on a static rope, but I don't dare to push too hard because I feel the wound could open right away. Well, at that moment, I know I might only have one chance. I'm going to give it my all!

Drastic times call for drastic measures: before my attempt, I decide to put "super glue" on my skin to protect the wound and prevent it from reopening until later. I'm nervous; I'm stressed. I know it's possible, but I will have to transcend myself! My preparation is meticulous; my cams are placed in order and on the correct side of my harness. The slightest mistake now would cost me precious seconds during the climb and thus probably the send. I leave nothing to chance and ensure everything is optimized!

There are many people at the crag (James Pearson has just arrived to work on a new project nearby), and the atmosphere is electric. I give the final instructions to my belayer, James Taylor, an Englishman who came specifically for the Voyage, and off we go!

As I start the first few meters, I notice that everyone stops climbing and goes silent to watch my attempt; the tension is at its peak.

I climb the first part of the route easily and quickly. I feel good and strong. After a few minutes of climbing, I'm already at the last rest; I place the last piece of protection (a blind placement of a small cam in a hole that I have worked long and hard to execute efficiently and correctly. In the event of a fall, if this piece were to fail not far from the ground...). When I launch into the section, I am determined and ready to give it my all. The encouragements become louder and louder as I progress through the difficult and committing section.

I'm now at the crux; I place the tip of my middle finger into that infamous hole and twist it to fit it as best as possible. I immediately feel all the glue come off and the hold attack my flesh, but there is no time to think about it! I launch my body to the left and manage to grab the next hold with my fingertips. And that's where the real battle begins. I know exactly what I need to do; I'm precise in my movements, but I'm suffering; with each move, I have to fight. My friends below literally push me with their encouragements! I take quite a swing on the most delicate move in terms of commitment (at that moment, a fall directed the wrong way could send me crashing into the sharp pillar, aka "the guillotine", a few meters below). Almost miraculously, I stay on the wall...

That's it, I'm on the final arête. Now, I must stay focused. It's easier but still technically demanding: I need to place my left foot on a tiny, smooth pebble very high up (even Adam Ondra fell here). I make the last moves, exulting, shouting with joy! I did it! The relief and pleasure of reaching the top of this magnificent route overwhelm me. I sit on the edge of the cliff and savor the moment...

Please ensure you have retrieved all your cams and brushed your tick-marks. Bon Voyage Airlines wishes you a wonderful stay!

Note: An original film about this journey is in the works, stay tuned!
Note-bis: Thank you to everyone who supported me through this process <3