Tour du Mont Blanc Day 5

It was blowing an absolute hoooley last night, and had only mellowed slightly by 6am when be began our morning routine. Packed and ready to go before anyone else was up, we scurried off to finish the last 3.4 kilometres of the hill we began yesterday. The mist was low and the inviting mountains of yesterday looked ominous and looming. It wasn’t long before we stripped off back into t.shirts again and our calves were screaming through lack of warm up.

Before too long we were at the top of the Grand Col Ferret and crossing from Switzerland to Italy. We were told the view here would be spectacular.

After a couple of hours of a morning distinctly reminiscent of a wet Welsh mountain day, the clouds parted and we caught a glimpse of the spectacular valley below. Just after 8am, as usual, we encountered the first wave of hikers just leaving their hut. But today, our greetings would be in Italian. Snakes walks behind me as she finds the constant ‘saying hello’ to people extremely boring. I lost count of how many ‘Ciao’s’ came out of my mouth in the fateful hour between 8 and 9.

We stopped for breakfast at the first hut, ‘refuge Elena’ and Snakes received a deep sigh when she asked about the possibility of hot coffee. We sat outside and downed a cup of granola then continued on our way. Down to the bottom of the valley, then straight back up again. The trail soon plateaued and we were rolling along up and down easy terrain and staring at the imposing and distinctly different mountains of Italy.

Refugio Bonatti came next and just in time. The first fresh coffee machine we’ve encountered. I like Italy. The Refugio is named after the famous climber Walter Bonatti, responsible for many pioneering climbs in the Alps, Himalaya and Patagonia. They had some excellent pictures of him on the walls, sporting woolen jumper, Christmas mittens and a length of twine rope across his chest.

We continued on until we came apon a lunch spot that should not be passed by and tucked into scrappy bits of bread and cheese with a forlorn looking tomato which ‘needed eating’.

3 more kilometres on to refuge Bertone where we were due to stop for the day. Our first hut of the trip and rain is due tonight. Hoorah.

We couldn’t check in until 4 so we chose to wait with our good pal, Aperol. We were stood at the door at 4pm on the dot so as to choose the least shitty beds in what we’d imagined to be a room full of bed bug ridden bunks, but when shown to our impeccably clean room, Snakes was almost as excited about the fact that we had a private room, as she was to see the helicopter drop supplies to the refuge on day 1. It was a stupendous moment. We made it to the showers first too, trying our best not to disgrace the immaculate bathroom.

We dozed about for an hour or so, then returned to the bar so Snakes could keep whooping me at rummie. The dinner bell rang at 7.30 and we were seated with 4 French young’ans and an America who im confident was stoned (or something) on account of him barely being able to open his eyes. All very nice and had embarrassingly good English. Much like everyone who’s first language isn’t English.

Two big guided groups shared the hut with us, and from their guide we learned that tomorrow’s weather was going to be bad. Thunder and lightening from 11am and a massive climb ahead meant they were re-routing and taking the bus to the valley, then walking up it a short way to the next accommodations. I had a sneaky feeling the guide just didn’t want to walk up a big hill with his group, but then we checked the weather.

We ate a starter of a big bowl of pasta and a main of burned polenta with tinned peas, desert was a weird grainy chocolate yogurt. But, it rained all night and we weren’t in a tent so….

Alpage de la Peule to Refuge Bertone. 6.20am – 14.45pm / 21km / 1123 up / 1222 down.