At ten kilometres in length, the Mazeno is the longest route to the summit of an 8,000-metre peak. Ten expeditions had tried and failed to climb this enormous ridge. Eleven days later two of the team, Sandy Allan and Rick Allen, both in their late fifties, reached the summit. They had run out of food and water and began hallucinating wildly from the effects of altitude and exhaustion. Heavy snow conditions meant they would need another three days to descend the far side of the ‘killer mountain’. ‘I began to wonder whether what we were doing was humanly possible. We had climbed the Mazeno and reached the summit, but we both knew we had wasted too much energy. In among the conflicting emotions, the exhaustion and the elation, we knew our bodies could not sustain this amount of time at altitude indefinitely, especially now we had no water. The slow trickle of attrition had turned into a flood; it was simply a matter of time before our bodies stopped functioning. Which one of us would succumb first?’ In Some Lost Place is Sandy Allan’s epic account of an incredible feat of endurance and commitment at the very limits of survival – and the first ascent of one of the last challenges in the Himalaya.

    The state of Slovenia was split up amongst Germany, Hungary and Italy. Partisan groups, under the leadership of Josip Tito, managed to liberate the state by 1945, and then began a period of relative calm, under the benevolent rule of Tito. A Communist, he began to distance himself from the Soviet Union, looking to western economic models as Yugoslavia struggled to rebuild. During the thirty years following the war, a Yugoslavian passport was one of the best in the world, and Yugoslavians could travel freely during this time, if they had the money. Most did not.But alpinists did. Through centralized government programs that established elaborate training régimes and state-supported expeditions abroad, Yugoslavian alpinists began making impressive climbs in the Himalaya as early as 1960. By the early 70’s, they had advanced to the 8000ers. Although not exclusively Slovenian, the teams were – not surprisingly – dominated by Slovenian climbers, since Slovenia is blessed with the Julian Alps. A fiercely steep range of limestone peaks, the Julian Alps provided the ideal training ground for Slovenian climbers, in both summer and winter. The brooding north faces and razor-sharp ridges taught them the skills they would need on the highest mountains on earth – the Himalaya.But when Tito died in 1980, the calm period ended. Inter-ethnic conflict and economic decline ripped the country apart. Serbian Communist leader, Slobodan Miloševic, led the charge with, what appeared to be an unstoppable strategy of aggression and oppression. But he misread the strength and character of several Yugoslavian states, including that most northerly one – Slovenia. By the summer of 1991, Slovenia was an independent country.Slovenia continued the tradition of support for climbers, and success breeds success. By 1995, all of the 8000ers had been climbed by Slovenian teams. And in the next ten years, some of the most dramatic and futuristic climbs were made by Slovenian climbers. Apart from a few superstars, most of these amazing athletes remain unknown in the West.What prompted this Himalayan performance by a tiny nation of just two million people? Life in Slovenia during this period was defined by shortages, preoccupation with ethnic conflict and poor living conditions. Yet, like had previously happened in Poland, its neighbor to the North, Slovenian climbers seemed to thrive and excel in these trying conditions, setting standards that no other country could replicate. Alpine Warriors explores the explosion of Slovenian alpinism within the context of its turbulent political history.

    But there were restrictions too, that come with growing up in an orthodox Tamil Brahmin family, as well as the rarely spoken about dangers of predatory male relatives. Ruskin College, Oxford, gave her her first taste of freedom in 1955, at the age of 22. Oxford brought her a degree in philosophy and economics—as well as hardship, as she washed dishes in a cafe to pay her fees. It was here, too, that she had her early encounters with the sensual life. With rare candour, she writes of her romantic liaisons in Oxford and Harvard, and falling in love with her ‘unsuitable boy’—her husband, Lakshmi Jain, whom she married against her beloved father’s wishes.Devaki’s professional life saw her becoming deeply involved with the cause of ‘poor’ women—workers in the informal economy, for whom she strove to get a better deal. In the international arena, she joined cause with the concerns of the colonized nations of the south, as they fought to make their voices heard against the rich and powerful nations of the former colonizers. Her work brought her into contact with world leaders and thinkers, amongst them, Vinoba Bhave, Nelson Mandela, Desmond Tutu, Henry Kissinger, Amartya Sen, Doris Lessing and Iris Murdoch, her tutor at St Anne’s College, Oxford, who became a lifelong friend.In all these encounters and anecdotes, what shines through is Devaki Jain’s honesty in telling it like it was—with a message for women across generations, that one can experience the good, the bad and the ugly, and remain standing to tell the story.