Day 9 - Relais des Merveilles to Les Mesches, 11 miles.

Total ascent, 937m. 

Total descent, 1192m. 

Thursday, 10th August. 

Total miles overall = 110.5

Average miles per day = 12.3

Total ascent overall = 10,618m (34,838ft)

Average ascent per day = 1180m (3871ft)

The meal last night was very good, especially as no polenta was involved for a change. What was more interesting was a group of 8 Frenchman dressed up as (low budget) Scotsmen; that's stereotypical Scotsmen of course. Many curtains must have been destroyed to make the 'authentic' outfits. They looked the part, they shouted, they sang (French equivalents), but sadly the cracks in their armour began to show. One by one they either went to bed or dozed off in their chairs. They had all retired by the time I left the restaurant... at 9:30. Not particularly Scottish then?!  

I had the best sleep of the trip, with no worms or e-books involved. I also had a very infrequent bus to catch at the end of the walk so I set off early again so no rushing would be needed. This was no final day cakewalk, though it was only a single col (the third highest at 2511m). Ironically, though I didn't rush, I managed to climb the 900m ascent and descend 400m to a refuge (and therefore coffee) before I realised I hadn't stopped at all. Maybe I didn't trust the weather, purely on the basis of it being cloudy rather than sunny, or maybe that helped my progress. 

The scenery was the usual (beautiful, dramatic, blah blah blah, views, blah, lakes, blah) so I didn't bother taking photos. Maybe I'm ready to go home now! Anyway rather than post more photos of 'the usual' I have decided to post a few of those that didn't make the cut earlier in the walk.

The caterpillar! Good job I didn't put the rucksack on.

A leaf hanging from a branch presumably by a spider's thread. It kept moving so I couldn't focus, the branch was a long way up!

Cute?! I'm not sure they were let out of there. 

Ah, the coat hooks. Anybody fancy one of these?

There were quite a few people about again, and I realised how much busier the French side of the Alps (Mercantour Park) was than the Italian (Alpi Marittime Park), presumably because the French market their side more? It's prettier but has much less oomph (maybe people prefer less oomph!). The remainder of the day was like a 'cool down'. A long, easy 800m valley descent to a typical ending for one of my long distance treks. By typical I mean ugly. Okay so last year Jen and I finished in Aberdaron with a welcoming committee, but a bus stop next to a hydro-electric power station is far more my thing. To make things worse I couldn't find the bus stop (because there wasn't one). A lad sitting on a breeze block pointed down when I asked him where it was, he was waiting for the same bus. I sat on my own breeze block and shortly it arrived. 

What a finish!

What followed was an almost identical journey to the one at the start of the walk, the only differences being that this time we were going downhill and that this road was 25 minutes of hairpin bends. Thankfully I was on the mountain side of the road again!

I had forgotten to do any sort of celebration at the end of the walk, and didn't bother when I arrived in St Dalmas de Tende either. My plan was to check into Le Prieuré, get cleaned up and have a wander into town. I was 10 minutes early for check-in so decided to wander first. By check-in time I'd seen all that St Dalmas had to offer, a bar, a baker and an ironmonger. The town may be past its best but Le Prieuré is lovely, and my room has three things that none of the others have had so far. Firstly wifi in the room, secondly a bath and thirdly a dead scorpion on the floor. Now I have a bit of a soft spot for scorpions, having kept one as a pet when I lived in Israel, so I was not going to complain to the hotel staff.  However another scenario struck me as far more likely than it dying where it was. By the time I noticed it I had emptied my rucksack out completely for the first time in several days, so I strongly suspect I'd been carrying it!

My deceased friend. In a plastic cup just in case!

So safe in the knowledge that I won't be smuggling dead arachnids into Britain I will end the blog here, before dinner. I must though make two observations before I finish. Firstly I must congratulate both Italy and France for their hiking trails, which have been superb, well maintained and waymarked throughout. Secondly I've been relieved to see that children in Italy and France whinge just as much as those in Britain, they just do it at a higher altitude.

I have an exciting train journey in the morning (one of those that corkscrews its way through tunnels down to sea level) to Nice, followed by a tramp along the beach amongst the beautiful people and a flight home with EasyJet amongst the not-so-beautiful people.

Oh alright, I confess, this walk never happened. I've made the whole thing up and spent the last 11 days on a sun-lounger in Nice. I guess I was never going to be able to explain to Jen how I got this full body tan!

Stats Zone:

Day 8 - Rifugio Soria-Ellena to Relais des Merveilles, 15.3 miles.

Total ascent, 1519m. 

Total descent, 1819m. 

Wednesday, 9th August. 

Dinner last night was not as successful as the previous two, as I found myself on a table set for 4 with 3 Italians who were deep in conversation. Still at least I've got reading material. The food though was once again fantastic. The refuge is manned by 2 girls and a lad, all very friendly, and none of whom can be over 25. Before dinner when they weren't serving they were on their phones (I think they had wifi, but not us), then they disappeared and produced a delicious 3 course meal! 

People kept turning up for coffee, beer, etc, pretty much until it went dark. I've no idea where they were likely to be heading to once they left. A group of four came in, asked for tape, used it to stick one of their walking boots together and left again straight away. 

The wind during the night was horrendous, and for some reason I kept waking up and worrying about the Spaniards (they were taking a difficult route today)! Then I started having odd dreams, such as a worm that got into my ear and buried itself half inside my head to feed, with the other half developing tentacles (I'd been reading about ticks!), and getting weighed down whilst walking by my iPad because I'd downloaded too many e-books onto it. I was frantically trying to delete them in a snowstorm when my alarm went off, again at 6:30. Despite my obvious worrying the wind had dropped and it was a glorious morning. I went down for breakfast and spotted a devastated campsite downhill from the refuge. It was I think the Italian equivalent of the Duke of Ed'Award and explained all the people coming in yesterday evening. I would have passed them all without hesitation for spending a night in that wind!

Silhouette of the rifugio this morning, post wicked wind. 

Today was the best day of the walk without a doubt, helped enormously by the fantastic weather. It was also the most difficult, though I intentionally made it so by tackling a peak late on. The start was a 600m pull up to Col de Fenestre, where I was to leave Italy for good and enter France. I was able to do so with no problem, but I'd been informed that this wasn't always the case, and that during WWII a large number of French Jews tried to escape to Italy (after Italy's surrender to the Allies) via this col and were caught and sent to concentration camps. I need to find out more, but the col felt sombre as there were still a couple of old buildings up there and a small memorial.

The border. It's some walk to that pizzeria though!

I was relieved to descend into France and suddenly I was not alone. This area has a number of good family-friendly loop walks, albeit walks that require a lot of effort, and as I headed down I passed innumerable French people heading up. Both the French and the Italians seem to think nothing of taking their entire families up 500m ascents to find a good lake to spend the day by.

As they all greeted me it gave me the opportunity to decide, having mastered "Buongiorno", how I was going to say "Bonjour". Most of the people passing me said the first syllable at a higher pitch than the second, though plenty did the opposite and the grumpy ones said both syllables at the same pitch (both low!). I spent some time thinking about how I greet people in the morning in English. Well for a start I don't say "Good", which just leaves "Morning". Out and about I say the first syllable lower, but at work I'm sure I say the first syllable higher, unless I'm in a bad mood when they're the same pitch. I saw a pattern developing and opted to greet people with a higher pitched second syllable, which is what I'd been doing all along. 

I didn't hang around the valley floor as it was busy, so set off for the second ascent of the day. The entire Fenestre valley is stunning, so it was a delightful walk. I'd hoped to get a butty with 'not tired' bread before the ascent but the cafe was closed. On its own nearby was a cheese shop so I went for a look. All I wanted was a lump of cheese and a piece or two of bread, but after a few cheese samples it became apparent that she sold nothing else, just cheese. I withdrew empty-handed and she gave a resigned shrug to suggest that this happened quite a lot. 

On the way up to col 2. Or was it on the way down from col 1?

At the top of col number two were 5 pretty lakes which I walked straight past as I've seen plenty. I knew that a swift descent and ascent to a third col (oh yes, count them!) would give me time to get to the top of a nearby 2500m summit, something that's not easy to do amongst the high peaks. It was a good move, as the view of the 'biggies' from there was the best I've had. And it was a very British summit, a lump with grassy ridges heading off it. 

As I'd now given myself a 1000m descent (again) I spent far too long on top, but it was hard to leave. I did notice though that the Alps had narrowed considerably during the course of the 8 days, and behind me in France were mere foothills (relatively speaking). For the first time I could also, in the distance, see the Mediterranean. It now felt like the end of the walk was near, and it is. 

View from the summit...

...a very British summit. Where's that cloud come from, it isn't anywhere else?!

1000m descents have become much easier since it cooled down a bit, and I was soonish (as in 90 minutes later!) on the lane at the bottom of the valley. For the first time in 5 days I walked into something that can be called a village, and to my accommodation. It's called Relais des Merveilles and it's a gite d'etape. And I'm not sharing anything. To explain, they have rooms and dorms, and I booked a room. 3 nights of squatting over a hole in the floor was enough, I wanted to sit. To get to my room I was led through the plebs section, pausing only to sniff the air and to give thanks. It is however, as the rifugios were, half board, so we all eat together at the same time. Tonight I will sit in the corner on my own and look aloof, because that walk was a whopper!

Which country am I in again?!

Stats Zone:

Note 'off piste' summit. 

Day 7 - Rifugio Remondino to Rifugio Soria-Ellena, 10.5 miles.

Total ascent, 1021m. 

Total descent, 1652m. 

Tuesday, 8th August. 

This has to be the most sociable of all the long distance walks I've done (on my own, obviously I did talk to Jen last year!). Considering there's been nobody else so far who speaks first language English that is quite remarkable. Part of it appears to be the apparent surprise that anyone from the UK is here at all, which has made pretty much everybody incredibly friendly. At dinner last night on our table were 3 Italians, 3 French, a German and me, and again it was great fun. 

It's also nice to be amongst people who all have at least one thing in common, and who therefore don't think that my idea of a holiday is total idiocy! A girl came to our table to ask what time we would like breakfast. I was first and said 7. The next two people said 6, the next 7, the next two 5:30 and the final two (a couple) said 4. They are planning an ascent of the Argentera, which they insist will be quite easy. Idiocy!

I must also mention the food as it was quite excellent, and even more so bearing in mind how inaccessible the place is. Organic barley soup (as introduced by the cook), pork in sauce with courgette and creamy mash and chocolate mousse, washed down with half a litre of rifugio red. Oh and an expresso of course! I have absolutely no idea how they do it, but it must surely involve a helicopter (I've since asked, it does). By 10pm there were about 20 people left in the sitting / dining room. 3 were playing cards and the rest of us were reading; it was incredibly peaceful. I can most definitely say I've been here, done it and, oh yes, bought the t-shirt! What a fine place.

So now I'm at breakfast and, ho hum, it's awful! Never mind. It's 7:15 and most people have already left because my 2 weather Apps and everybody else finally agree, thunder storms are coming! This should make today very interesting as it's a tough one. I've got two cols to cross the first of which, Colle di Brocan, is at 2892m (9488ft) the highest point of the entire walk. What a way to go, struck by lightning at nearly 10,000 feet! Let's see how it goes...

It's 4pm and I'm showered and ready for beer at my final rifugio (this time surrounded by cows and marmots). Other good news is that unless people turn up who haven't booked I'll have my own 4 person dorm to spread out in. It was chaos when I arrived and I feared another sardine night, but most turned out to be day-trippers and it's quiet now. In fact the only other people here at the moment are the Frenchman I ate with in the mad sanctuary and the 4 Spaniards I ate with in the first refuge. No wifi again though.

The walk was a two up, two down affair. The first half was pretty tough, with both a very steep, scramble ascent to the highest point and a steep, long, on yer bum descent which thankfully ended at another rifugio serving great coffee. Setting out at 7:30 had helped as it was cool, but by the 10:30 coffee stop black clouds had gathered on the peaks and I feared the worse. To be honest the valley was probably the least attractive in the park that I've seen, all a bit menacing and with a half empty reservoir in the middle. 

Me at the highest point of the walk, 2892m (taken by one of the Spaniards as I'd just caught up with them). 

By 11 I was off again and the cloud-swirling started in earnest, with peaks, lakes, my boots, you name it disappearing into cloud then reappearing seconds later. The high clouds then disappeared completely to leave a fine second half of the walk, similar in length and height to the first but much easier. I reached the rifugio at 2 and in no time the wind was howling and still is, but no rain so far.

Swirling mist 1. 

Swirling mist 2.

No mist!

Although I did it in 6 hours it was a challenging day's walking and my last entirely in Italy. Most of the final two days will be in France.

Stats Zone:

Day 6 - Refugio Emilio Questa to Rifugio Remondino, 9.5 miles.

Total ascent, 1027m. 

Total descent, 985m. 

Monday, 7th August. 

I do seriously like this photo. I'm going to call it 'Bog At Dusk' until I get a better suggestion. 

I need to explain how it works. The shower is cold. Water is pumped (weakly) up from the lake behind and gravity assists. The toilet is one of those you stand over, and when you've finished you fill the hanging bucket from the tap and 'flush'. Neither the shower nor the toilet have a door, so you have a great view of the mountains whilst you're dealing with things. Likewise you have to make lots of noise so that people know you're there!

I sat with a group of four Spaniards for dinner so at times I could participate, though one of the ladies sympathetically spoke English when it was obvious I was making no sense whatsoever. One of them looked totally exhausted and kept dozing off while she was eating. The place was packed (all 20 places plus the tent, loads of kids, a dog!), which meant the bedroom was full. Going to bed was tricky, as the only approach was via the foot end and I was the last in because I'm British and therefore want to drink beer until told to stop. I bet the people either side of me were delighted! 

The very low ceilinged bedroom. Orgy just out of shot. 

At 6:15 I was first awake, first to clear out of the room and first to eat breakfast. The rifugio was in dense fog. I chatted to Flávio, the manager, for a while. You can only get to the refuge for 3 months a year and he stays for the entire time. Food is brought up on foot, which explains the bread (at both breakfast and in my packed lunch - appropriately rock hard!). My 2 weather Apps today said that there would be storms today, Flávio said that it would clear but be cloudy again later. Italy 2, Weather Apps 0. 

I might have been first up but I was last to leave. I was happily reading, drinking coffee and watching the fog swirling about and beginning to clear. I also had a pretty straightforward walk: descend a bit, ascend a bit, descend a bit more, ascend a bit more. And I wanted to see views as I was now in the heart of the Parco Naturale Alpi Marittime (correction from yesterday!). 

I don't need to describe a whole day's worth of fantastic views, though I finally got a close up of the main event here, the colossal (don't think I've used that adjective yet) Argentera massif, at 3297m the highest thing around. The final ascent was a steep, exhilarating 600m pull up to tonight's rifugio, and as there was no descent to follow I was able to hammer up it without having to save any energy, leaving the chamois in my wake!

"Argentera! Argentera! Argentera!"

Rifugio Remondino, at 2430m (7970ft) my highest sleep of the trip, is much more modern and nowhere near as quirky as Emilio Questa, but after walking, sleeping and walking in the same clothes for the past 2 days I was happy to swap quirkiness for a shower. It was €5, but worth every cent. The girl I gave the money to passed me the key to the shower and asked me to return it when I'd finished. I was tempted to tell her that I would never finish.

Note man on left painting the refuge. Will it all be white by morning?!

I had a nose round afterwards. The place is surrounded by chamois (shy) and ibex (not shy) and is directly beneath the cliffs of the Argentera. A negative is no wifi (though not a surprise, I was more surprised that I had it yesterday) and a positive is I have a proper bed. A bottom bunk of three, but a bed nonetheless.

Stats Zone:

Day 5 - Santuario Sant'Anna di Vinadio to Rifugio Emilio Questa, 12.7 miles.

Total ascent, 1,156m. 

Total descent, 913m. 

Sunday, 6th August. 

Well last night's meal was an absolute blast! At 7:30 everyone filed in and was told where to sit. I was on a table of three, which was composed of an Englishman (me), an Italian and a Frenchman, all of us walkers. The Englishman (me) knew 12 words of Italian, a surprisingly large amount of French (thank you Whitby Comp'), and some Spanish (which proved useful to the Italian). The Italian knew a little French and some English. The Frenchman knew no Italian and no English. We managed to chat for 90 minutes about mountains, Ferraris, football, Brexit and, amazingly, how good British maps are (the Italian started this, not me!). Utterly bizarre.

After the starter a man wearing a cross walked in with a microphone and introduced various groups as if it was a Christmas party. There was much clapping and whooping. Later the lights went out and we all sang 'Happy Birthday' to an elderly gentleman in Italian (well of course I know the words!). 

I was aware that storms were forecast, but a clap of thunder in the middle of the night at 6500ft is pretty terrifying! By the time I got up for breakfast the storm was long gone and everywhere was dry again. Looks like the weather's going to be cooler and more changeable from now on. We had a discussion about this last night at dinner. The Italian said that it would rain for about an hour this morning, then improve. My 2 reliable weather Apps said that it would be fine in the morning and there would be storms in the afternoon. In the event, it rained for about an hour this morning, then improved. Dramatically. 

The sanctuary was a mere mile from the Italian / French border, and my journey today took me straight to it, then along it on a ridge for the entire morning. I was now going to follow not only the GTA, but also the Lou Viage (???) and the Via Alpina (red route). I had the choice of two maps to follow: my trusty Italian IGC with its thick, felt-tip dotted line drawn with a ruler, or my French map (no idea who by as I cut it up to save weight!) with its narrow, intricately drawn red line showing every turn on the path. Or I could follow both, with my right leg in France following the path and my left leg in Italy tripping the other leg up in its continued attempt to progress in a straight line. Decisions, decisions!

There was a short climb up to the first col, maybe half an hour, but already people were half-running back past me, looking agitated. I guessed that maybe I might get wet, so togged up. At the col two things happened: firstly I got my first view of the French landscape as I was now standing on the border, secondly I got a great view of some Biblical British weather. This greatly affected my view of the French landscape. 

Ou est France?

To be honest I couldn't help but think that some of these French and Italians really need to come to Wales. Ok so everything had disappeared, but the cloud was still high and it was only an hour or so long shower. Towards the end, after a super walk along the border-straddling ridge, I dropped down to another col with a road over it and a car park. It was full of cars full of grumpy looking people. Also on the col was a refreshments van, with music playing and the two owners singing loudly. Next to it were two lady walkers in full waterproofs, dancing. I took a photo for them (in front of the van!), had a coffee and the rain stopped. Not only did it stop but within 10 minutes I was back in sunshine and the day just got better from there, aside from a spell walking above Isola 2000, a modern ski resort that of course looks awful in Summer. 

Yuk. 

A climb led me up through trees to a rim, beyond which were a couple of beautiful lakes, a perfect lunch spot. Another simple ascent led me to a significant col (I've forgotten the name as I've thrown the map away now!). Not only was it the highest point of the walk so far at 2628m (prior to this the highest point had still been the annoying road col on day 2), but I was back in Italy and entering the Alpes Marittime National Park, where all the really big lumps are. For the next 3 days I'd be in a land of rocks (not everyone's cup of tea I know, Jen included, but I love how alien it all is - for short spells!). 

Lunch Lake 2. 

Then it was down to another fine lake and a final, glorious hour through magnificent scenery to the rifugio, standing at 2388m (7835ft), and looking like it's just landed on the moon. It's tiny and I'm sleeping in the loft on one of a long row of beds joined together! 

Alpes Marittimes National Park. 

Lunar! The rifugio is in the middle of the picture. 

And as for the shower, well just take a look at this........

Oh yes!!!

Stats Zone:

The trough was the col with the grumpy, singing and dancing people!

Day 4 - Bagni di Vinadio to Santuario Sant'Anna di Vinadio, 8 miles.

Total ascent, 1163m. 

Saturday, 5th August. 

The dinner spell is broken! Last night began with soup and was followed by a weird omelette with grated carrot. The And then..... dessert!!! Where was the salami, the pasta, the chunks of meat and, most importantly, the cheese?! 

At school, if I ask a question such as, say, "What is 8x7?", a child will (occasionally) answer "56", but raise the pitch of the 6 so it becomes "56?" I then stare at them and say, "Is that an answer or a question?" To which they either make a decision, squirm a bit, cry or phone Childline. My extremely limited Italian works in exactly the same way so if, for example, I'm asked what I'd like for 'postre' and given a list of alternatives I might answer, "Torta?" This of course gives them license to feed me absolutely anything as I haven't strictly speaking decided. Which might explain the dessert, whatever it was (definitely not torta). 

At least the beer was ok, and being Friday night I could sit and get hammered with the local. Then he left. A few tourists (pah!) were knocking about but their children were whining so I sat outside and drank more beer until it went dark, sneaking in occasionally to steal crisps from the bowl on the bar (I demand more food courses!). It was time to say goodbye to the valleys and I was looking forward to today's ascent, an ascent from which I would not descend... well not today anyway. 

Breakfast at Chalet dell'Ischiator was better than dinner, despite me snapping the rotating handle off the cereal dispenser. I did the only decent thing and hid it behind an ornament (I didn't attempt a confession, I could do that later at the sanctuary). I was given an entire plate of cheese, a huge pot of coffee and another of hot milk. I think they were feeling guilty about the omelette / carrot combination. 

It's day 4 and a 1000m morning ascent suddenly seems a formality. I plodded the first vertical 700m, up yet another pretty valley, without stopping until it levelled out at an alp. Today's alp came complete with cows wearing bells and a man and a dog herding them.  I took in water and removed an enormous caterpillar from my rucksack before the final pull up to today's col (Passo di Bravaria, 2311m). 

Monster of a mountain from the col. 

The weather has been amazing so far, and easy to walk in apart from the end of day 2. Granted, the valleys are very hot, but it's been dry heat, and at altitude the air is incredibly fresh. This was particularly so today, because although the views weren't as widespread as yesterday (because of nearby giant lumps) they were crystal clear. 

Contouring the side of a steep valley with a monster of a mountain opposite, I'd marked a lake on the map a little further on as a possible lunch stop, but it was a touch disappointing (meaning there was no water in it). Another was shown 100m higher up so I detoured to that. I wasn't alone, the Italians certainly know their picnic spots, but it was pretty chilled nonetheless, and a beautiful spot to boot. 

Lunch Lake. 

I bumped into two walkers today who were lost, the second time this has happened. Both times they had the same map as me and I could sympathise. I'm reading a quite wonderful book on this trip (including the Monte Isola part - I'm a slow reader, but I take a lot in!). It's by the editor of Trail magazine, Simon Ingram, and it's called 'Between the Sunset and the Sea'. It's fundamentally about mountains and our relationship with them, but it's much more than that (hard to explain here though, just read it, it's brilliant!). At one point he states that, "British maps are the best in the world." This might sound bullish out of context but he's absolutely right. I wonder where Italian maps would be in a Top 200? I suppose it depends who's drawn them. The Ordnance Survey towers over British mapping, whereas I suspect that IGC cowers beneath the remainder of Italian mapping (the maps I used from a different company on the Alta Via two years ago were very good). To describe mine as inaccurate would be a gross understatement, especially the roads which are usually just random squiggles. When describing what qualifies as a mountain, Ingram also says, "If it looks like a mountain and it feels like a mountain, then it is a mountain." I couldn't agree more. The flip side of this is that I can imagine IGC cartographic policy stating, "Draw a random squiggle, if it looks like a road then it is a road." My 1:25,000 IGC maps are littered with random squiggles that don't exist. 

So from the lunch lake it was back down to the main path and a short walk to my destination, with hardly any descent as it stands at 2010m. A grand total of 4 hours walking time and nearly 2 hours resting, which is unheard of for me. I was getting into the right frame of mind for a night spent at a pilgrims' sanctuary dedicated to Saint Anne. A place which, according to the brochure, offers the chance, "to spend peaceful and restful days in which to encounter oneself, others and God, assisted by the unique beauty of this place". Or failing that you can play volleyball by the car park.

What the hell?! Or should I say, what in God's name?!

I'm not really sure what's going on here, but it's not peaceful or restful and it's not especially beautiful. I have though encountered others, many others. And I'm staying in the Pope's own Travelodge. I was yet to encounter God so I tried the bar. He wasn't there so I bought a beer while I waited on the patio. Within 5 minutes I was a Teacher again, can kids tell?! A group of them (11 year olds, nicer than the British equivalent) came in with an older lad and aimed straight towards me. Nobody else, just me. They all babbled in Italian before the older lad established I spoke English and told me that they were playing a game. It involved having their photo taken with a visitor (maybe they just looked for the most sunburned person). They were lovely and deserved a crisp each. I got a photo too and even checked that I could put them on the Internet! 

Don't eat them all!

A bizarre place but quite good fun really, and my last single room before 3 nights in high level mountain rifugios, with possibly, gulp, no wifi!!!!! Next update when I can post one. 

Stats Zone:

Day 3 - Pontebernardo to Bagni di Vanadio, 11.5 miles.

Total ascent, 1200m. 

Total descent, 1282m. 

Friday, 4th August. 

As I approached the restaurant last night the village was deathly quiet. I could see that the black, solid door at the top of the steps was closed so I waited, nothing. I knew that they were expecting me as my landlady had just phoned. There was a bell, so when the church clock struck 8 I rang it, nothing. I rang it again, a voice inside shouted what was probably "Stop ringing the bell" in Italian. Presently a girl, who looked remarkably like the cheese and stomach girl, answered, smiled and led me up to the third floor. The tastefully decorated restaurant had one empty table reserved for me, otherwise it was completely full. Now I knew where the village was!

It was indeed 3 out of 3 glorious meals, and again I had no choice. Courses came and went, each as fine as the other. It occurred to me that during the day I'm working my way through roughly 400 calories an hour, and in the evening eating my way through roughly 2000 calories an hour. 

Several hundred of the 2000 calories - the antipasti before the starter.

The plan for today was simple: go for breakfast in the landlady's kitchen and sit eating while she watched over me (everything was homemade so I guess she was just gauging my response), watch her painstakingly write what appeared to be her life story on the receipt for my stay, stroll to Pietraporzio to pick up some lunch, walk up Monte Vaccia's western flank in at least partial shade and stagger down its eastern side to my destination. This was a simple mountain day, up one side, down the other. 

I left charming old Affittacamere La Barmo at just after 8:30, with parts 1 and 2 of the above completed in a manner strangely true to my prediction! Part 3, the stroll, was indeed a stroll for those who consider a 20 minute plod in 34 degrees (what, at this time???!!!) with a backpack a stroll. I passed a couple who were strolling properly before stopping for a macchiato (my coffee of choice just now) and a slice of pizza which looked delicious in the bakery, less so by lunch time!

But now it's time for music! I nearly always find myself humming a tune which is related to my circumstances (example from yesterday - 'Crawling King Snake' by The Doors, ruined by Jon who has since identified it as a grass snake!). Likewise I'm always listening out for what I can hear people playing, and so far it's been awful. Italian pop I can cope with, every one a potential Eurovision winner, but in the last three villages I've had 'Convoy', 'Chirpy chirpy cheep cheep' and 'Simple Simon Says'. Ok I quite like 'Convoy', but even so! Surely though, in a sleepy rural village, nobody needs 'Shape Of You' being blasted out on what sounded like the community PA system. And finally, in the restaurant last night they were playing 'Hurt' by Johnny Cash on a loop, presumably to honour another local bovine stomach loss. 

Today was all about lunch, and I wasn't bothered at all with quite how flat my pizza now was. It was the place that mattered, in this case the summit of Monte Vaccia (2495m). The walk up had been a short spell on a lane followed by a relentless but very enjoyable 4000ft climb which included my first real alp (mountain pasture) of the trip and my first proper col (not as high as yesterday but a real col, with a zigzaggy path to the top). This left a quick climb to the summit for lunch, and an awe-inspiring 360 degree view of BIG, pointy mountains. I was really in the thick of it now, and could clearly see the higher peaks I'd be in the middle of in a few days. Today's photos are all views taken from either the col or summit. 

Approach to a proper col. 

The view west from the col. 

Me on the col! Looking north (not me, I'm looking south). 

Looking east from lunch (the view south must have been rubbish!)

And then I came down. Despite the descent being shorter than yesterday I was more organised, rationing water and fruit pastilles for when I actually needed them. A couple of hours later, not far from the end and ready for my final ration, I heard rushing water. Is there anything better in life than standing in a river eating fruit pastilles? Not today there wasn't.

The room quality couldn't last. Tonight I'm in the Italian equivalent of a Swiss pub. The view's great, the beer's perfect (for here), the cat's annoying and the room's average. There's no plug in the sink so I've done my hand washing in the bin, and it's drying nicely on the line (a chair). Dinner next. 

Stats Zone:

Yes it was briefly that hot at the start!