As per the unspoken rule of the hut there is the silent morning shuffling beginning around 6am. Walkers, so sociable the night before, walk past each other heads down mute and focused on what needs to be done to get a start on the days walk. Not a word is exchanged as teeth are cleaned by head torch and feet are taped . Snorers waken unaware of the fact 15 sets of bloodshot eyes are glaring at them and women can just be barely heard muttering to a confused and slightly frightened looking husband “I gave it to you yesterday , it must be in there somewhere -look properly”.
Getting up and ready for off when your choices are simplified to the contents of a back pack is quite satisfying. Oh look there are my pants that I have worn 4 days straight and there is that sweaty top, now dry but a little stiff – that will do nicely. Done. Hair stiff – but so is everyone’s . Combing seems friutless so no harm missing this step. Done.
I sit for breakfast quietly and there is a selection of cereal and dry bread . Small slices like from a toy room kitchen set. I take a few and have a cup of tea . Not a very big breakfast for the 20km day ahead and I realise later the affects of this. Today I walk out of the stunning Italian section of this walk and into Switzerland. I have my Swiss francs ready and again marvel at having breakfast in one country and walking for lunch in another. I say goodbye to the beautiful Eugenio and Zoe (angel of the hut)- still basking in their newly engaged glow. They are walking to a different stop today so our paths won’t cross again . I hug her with force and thank her for her kindness.
The walk starts out with a very fresh wind blowing and as soon as I step out I step back in and add a layer and gloves . The walk starts with a magnificent secction wrapping around the mountain , an undulating path that narrows and widens and it’s ruggedly beautiful. A Refugio before the days big climb up to the Grand Col Ferret is a stop for a very welcome cup of hot hot tea. It’s getting colder and I don’t hang around as clouds are looming and it’s a steep ascent of 475 metres up into them and to the Col where the Italy meets Switzerland. It is a long walk up , the views all around are breathtaking but the weather is changing at a speed much greater than my feet can match . Icy patches and snow covered ground is up ahead and then I feel the first snow flake land on my cheek. From sweating and sunglasses a few days prior I am now hood up and walking through snow . It is cold and the higher I go the thicker the snow becomes. I reach the border but the views promised at the top are obscured by cloud and I don’t hang around too long. I’m cold and wet .
Then comes a long bleak muddy slippery descent . I am all alone and can only see an arm in front of me – I suddenly feel so hungry and empty . I haven’t had enough to eat for this climb and descent – I know from my book and map that there is a working farm halfway down the mountain that does food so I march on blindly hoping it will appear through the fog at each turn . It doesn’t . This section seems endless and my cold toes are rammed to the front of my boot and aching . Eventually a walker coming the other way appears and I bonjour him instantly – too hungry to bother with small talk or which country /language I’m in I start firing questions at him “how far is the farm? is the farm open? Have you seen this farm? There is a farm down there isn’t there?”!! He looks at me – and I’m aware that I’m shouting for some reason maybe thinking the fog is blocking his ears – shivering, muddy, hair plastered in a kind of comb over Donald Trump look and getting close to a screech . He says the words I am longing to hear … yes he says just 50 metres ahead . I go to nearly hug him but he doesn’t hang round long enough – not sure why. He disappears quickly into the fog one way and in a few steps my farm emerges the other. I walk in to the warmth ; throw down my pack and can’t get the words “ three egg omelette with tomatoes ham and cheese “ out quick enough . I have to make special note here of this as it is a hot contender for Best Meal of the Tour du Mont Blanc. This omelette when it came, piping hot and filling the whole plate , was a thing of wonder. I can’t remember Enjoying anything as much as that omelette . I know I was making involuntary noises as I ate , happily burning my mouth not being able wait a minute longer. I didn’t want that omelette to end. The eggs fresh from that little farm in the fog were the best eggs in the world to me and it was like I was recharged . I warmed up , sat for a while in a post omelette after glow and then set off for the final descent of the day into the small town of La Fouly .
I was like a new woman . As I got lower the rain and fog disappeared and it was my proper introduction to Switzerland – expecting a Heidi to pop up any second and offer me a a plate of bread and goats milk I skipped along. There were timber cottages and streams and goat bells … it was stunning . I zig zagged through some pine forest and before long walked into the tiny town of La Fouly . Just a small shop , an outdoor shop and the refuge where I would be staying . It was cute and lovely! With a relief that flooded over me I took off my boots to see I bruised both my little toes and caused the start of a blister on the little piggy that ate roast beef . I hobbled up in my thongs and straight for a hot shower . It was hot with no timer … and it couldn’t have been better timing. My bunk was in a room of 7and was warm and cosy .
Dinner was served at 7 and my allocated spot was with 3 climbers from England who I had seen from a distance on some of the high variants over the past few days. They recognised me as the solo walker they too had spotted and said they had been asked in several huts by other walkers if they had seen a blonde woman on her own up high and was I ok . They had accounted for my safety several times – people on this walk so incredibly kind and caring – I have been so touched by the care of complete strangers thrown together only by chance of choosing the same 11 days to complete this walk. As our delicious food was served and I took a good 10 minutes describing my omelette to these lads we ordered another carafe of hut wine and chatted way past our suggested by the sign 9pm curfew. I wasn’t to know then but these three were to become a part of this experience that I will never ever forget. Just from a chance seating plan in a hut in La Fouly I met three incredible people. It was a perfect hut night filled with my laugh bouncing off the hut walls as these three bounced off each other and by the nights end it was decided . They were my people . I slept soundly in a room of no snorers my cheeks sore from laughing my feet sore from walking . So very happy.
Related Posts
In pictures…. Tour du Mont Blanc September 2019.
