WHY DO TOURISTS CLIMB?

"Why do tourists climb?" I wondered on my way up the narrow staircase of Milan's Gothic Duomo. I thought back to my experiences clambering up the Eiffel Tower in the rain, traversing unregulated cliffs in Sicily, hiking Arizona's orange canyons and, on one tired day, trudging up to Fisherman's Bastion on the Danube in Budapest (opting out of a ride on the funicular).

A few steps ahead of me, one of my climbing partners, a North American, huffs, "This'll be great exercise." He climbs with zeal, perhaps to burn off last night's creamy tagliatelle al salmone.

Here in Italy, there are countless climbing opportunities for travellers. Visitors can scale Mount Vesuvius near Pompeii in scorching heat, negotiate the popular Cinque Terre in Liguria, zip up and down medieval wells and Gothic cathedrals and take in the dramatic Dolomites in the north.

Most people don't bother climbing at home. I have never climbed the CN Tower, the peak in my hometown of Toronto. I ask a Milanese friend if he's been to the Duomo; he vaguely recalls a school trip. Travellers, though, frequently take advantage of the chance to climb their destination. Few leave Paris without reaching the top of either the Arc de Triomphe (worth its 284 steps to appreciate the city's unrivalled layout), the Notre Dame Cathedral or the Eiffel Tower.

And how can one claim to see New York without the view from the top of the Empire State Building? (Yet how many New Yorkers make this ascent?) Sri Lankans pride themselves on their Sigiriya, or Lion's rock, and no trip to Australia is complete without paying a visit to Uluru, or Ayers Rock, a landmark that tantalises climbers with its jaunty jutting out of the ground.

There's something to this climbing business. We climb to conquer a place, or to feel a sense of accomplishment on an otherwise lazy vacation (enabling more of those local indulgences).

In Milan, I climb to see up close all the unique spires that poke out of
from the Duomo's crown. And they are magnificent. Too numerous to
comprehend, and so delicate it is hard to imagine they were carved from
stone. My climbing companions are equally stirred. One disappears, snapping
photos of the many faces of this graceful cathedral. The other wonders how
many human lives were lost to its construction, and gapes at the snow-capped
mountains in the backdrop. All this because of the climb.

~ JULIA BELLUZ

Picture Credit: AnDre | MA_sight (via Flickr)