From Bonatti to La Fouly
We wake up to clear skies, but the forecast is not optimistic. My table-mates from last night are heading back to Courmayeur , and we are packing up to continue. It's over way over hour of a straight line forward from Bonatti, until you hit a deep crevasse, forcing the path down into the bottom of Val Ferret, and the eponymous chalet. I've heard good things about this place, but it was already full when I booked 6 months in advance. This is also the last stop for the bus coming from Courmayeur, hence the many day hikers we see .
From the valley floor we head up into Elena. The hut is about a third of the way up the mountain at the edge of the valley, almost an exact mirror image to Elisabetta's location in Val Veny. And this is where I break down. Ascents are still very tough for me, and even though there has been an improvement since the first day's abysmal, 1-2-3 steps and stop, I'm still unable to get into a hiking rhythm. My brother is up ahead of me, rain is starting to fall and I start crying. He calls out to me from an outcrop overlooking the valley asking me to take a picture of him, and I just turn my back hiding my tears. It's as if all my frustration with the slow rhythm up the mountains has found an outlet, now that I have someone with me. Up until now I just didn't give up, one step after the other. And it was worth every minute of it. Now there is someone ahead of me, someone who keeps waiting for me, and I just can't. He hikes down to check up on me, gives me a hug and offers solutions, but I cannot. I need this wave of frustration, and anger to wash over me before I can think logically. He heads up into the hut and I promise I will make it there. Eventually.
It doesn't take me long to make my way into the hut. By then the wind is howling and it's very cold. A group of Koreans with a guide are preparing to head out. I've become very good at recognizing the language by now. The inside of the hut is decorated like a mountaineering lodge, with old equipment on the walls - just my kind of thing. My brother is already sitting with two cups of hot chocolate and a blueberry cake waiting for me, looking at the map. Now that I have some warm sugary liquid in my belly I calm down, and we discuss our strategy for the rest of the day. It's about 10:00, and we have a hike up the mountain into the pass. He takes everything out of my bag, leaving me with just the essential - gloves, hat, rain gear.
We head out of the warmth of the hut (not before I go to the restroom - and they have really good ones) into drizzling rain. We agree for my brother to find a protected spot to wait for me after the top. He sets off, and soon I lose sight of him. I progress on, realizing the first drops of snow have started falling. As I head up, the snow intensify, mixed with rain. And it's beautiful. I see a convoy of people on the edge of the mountain making their way into the clouds. From a distance I hear an injured animal, or perhaps a human being. I don't understand where this is coming from, or why is nobody helping. As I walk past a couple who were in the hut with us last night, I realize it's their son. Their two year old, carried on his father's back, wants out of the carrier and into the snow. His wailing, filtered through the snow sounded like an urgent cry for help. As I walk past them, impressed again by the courage of hiking the tour with a toddle, I realize i'm softly singing to myself the tune of "singing in the rain". I'm happy. I forgot about my frustration and my slow movement. I am so happy that I take a selfie, something I've never done before. I look, in the words of my dear mother, like a drowning rat. But I i'm really really happy.
Suddenly out of the fog my brother appears. He silently hugs me. I'm confused, as I don't think it took me that long to climb, and surely i'm not that far from the top. He says he saw conditions deteriorate, and started to get worried. i'm touched by the anxious look on his face. We complete the hike up together, into the Col Val Ferret, the border between Italy and Switzerland.
As usual it is extra windy and very cold at the Col. Behind us is the Italian Val Ferret, ahead of us - the Swiss. We stay long enough only to snap a few photos. As the snow dies out, we start a winding descent into the Switzerland. For the first time on this trip, our backs are to the Mont Blanc. The Swiss side of the valley is different - less mountain and more rolling hills, with strangely soggy underfoot.
It's raining still and we head down and down and down and down. We hit upon another Korean group or perhaps two and the path is crowded and unpleasant. Just in time for a pit stop: Alpages de la Peule. It's a low building, looks like a former diary farm. Inside it's warm and very crowded, as everyone's looking for escape from the rain. While I typically do not like crowded places, I love this, there's a sense of comradery in the room. We find a place, take out our picnic, and buy some soup. As always, it comes with thick chunks of cheese. While it clearly came from a packet (!) we are cold and wet and we don't care.
Heading back out, most people take a right down into the valley, hiking along the road. But I remember reading you can take a trail high along the valley. Heading left out of the building, we find the path right in front of the Yurts in the yard. We are soon on our own. Scenery is different here, with different vegetation. We soon arrive a a random concrete building, and it's time for snacks again. I find that I eat way more now that I have a companion.
From here the path takes right and down into the valley. Just before the road I take a tumble in the mud, and now my clothes are not just wet, but also dirty. We cross the river, walk along the valley road and enter the small village of La Fouly. Maya Joie is our home for the night, and we get a room to ourselves with two bunk beds and nice warm showers next door. And they even have a massive dry room, where hot air is blasted over dozens of wet clothes.
Dinner is fondue, and we politely refuse, wondering the small village until we find a small Italian restaurant. The food is OK, filling and hot, and together with some beer, we are ready for bed. Not before noting where the bus stop is, and the opening hours for the local general store. The skies are clear, but there is snow on the ground. Hiking in the falling snow is now on top of my All-time favorite things to do.
Pro tip: Hut life II. Hiking shoes are not allowed in the sleeping quarters of the huts. Most huts will have a storage room at the entrance, either directly before entering the hut itself, or to the side, where you are expected to leave your hiking polls and shoes. The storage space will also have shoes for you to wear indoors, usually Crocs or something similar. If this is not your thing, carry a pair of sandals or thick socks for use in the huts. This is not applicable to huts where you just stop for lunch - you can, but don't have to, take your shoes off in this case.
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