Tour du Mont Blanc

I did not get much sleep last night, what with the nearby rushing river and the symphony of snorers! Still, the fresh mountain air washing through my tent was refreshing. Also my mind was running riot all night; I was thinking about the trip with great anticipation. I had not had a chance to meet anyone from the team, and yet most would have had time to get to know each other a little having arrived early yesterday afternoon.

I packed my day rucksack and everything else into my kitbag for the support vehicle to be transferred to our first destination. Lewis was arranging breakfast in the mess tent, and as I tucked into cereals and coffee I started to meet the others as they emerged from their tents. Norman was the first up — a retired health and safety guy and a seasoned pro at camping and walking holidays, a level-headed man you might say. There were also a couple of father-son walkers, which I found charming — something I would love to do with my father, but feel time is running short. Hayley from New Zealand and her fella Luke from Australia were a delight. Frank, a large Irishman with some splendid opinions on life, and his partner Janet. Rosie is our resident pastor from Wales with a charm all of her own and an inner strength that her parish will draw from, I am sure. Keith was the quiet one, but charming all the same and of a very generous manner, and I got to chat with him quite regularly.

The group of people I mention last is for a reason: it is because like all groups certain people mix better with certain people. Nothing is meant by it; it's just how it is. I got on really well with Lee, yet another Aussie, and that meant that half of the group were from the southern hemisphere. Lee (I am sure he will not mind me saying) is a disillusioned estate agent who had left a company that had promised the world and could not deliver, so he decided to travel for six months — I guess gathering himself for the next stage of his life. Ted, my new Aussie tent mate, has an infectious personality and held court on many occasions during our trip, usually ending in contagious laughter. Without doubt one of the best storytellers I have witnessed, and a charming man indeed. Graham is me in later life, or as he said, "You are a Graham in the making," although I will probably not go for the gnome-like beard and Santa bookings he must get offered each festive period! His charm and beer-drinking skills are legendary in the Mont Blanc region, and I can bear witness to both.

Now that we have met everyone — although briefly — shall we set off?

After making your own packed lunch (a daily feature on walking days) and loading up the support vehicle, we are off to the train station at Les Bossons just a short walk away. I glance up across the valley to see the dramatic crevassed Glacier des Bossons, which is one of the lowest glaciers in the region, and if you reach out it almost feels that you could touch it. The short train ride takes us to the town of Chamonix where we take the téléphérique (cable car) to Plan Praz at 1999m. The trail today is named the 'Grand Balcon' and is on the opposite side of the valley from Mont Blanc. The views as we climb up in the cable car are getting increasingly better with every metre we climb. It is a lovely warm day with blue sky and very little cloud about — a great walking day, you might say, and as we ramble slowly up I cannot stop looking over my right shoulder southward towards the magnificent site of Mont Blanc itself. It is truly a beautiful mountain, and the massif is equally breathtaking.

The highest point of the day is Lac Blanc, and we stop here for a late lunch stop. The view directly opposite is of the fast-retreating Mer de Glace glacier, which is stunning. During lunch, surprisingly, I bump into the people I sat next to on the aeroplane on my way here. We chat for a short time as their group is on the move.

Unfortunately Matt's father has fallen ill, so Keith offers to guide him down as he knows this area well because he has walked here many times before. It is decided that this is the best option and will give him a chance to rest and hopefully recover. We get ready, regroup, and set off for the afternoon stint. The mountain tops are glistening in the afternoon sun and all but the high snows are melting away. Overhead there are paragliders climbing high on thermals like giant birds of prey. The terrain underfoot is rocky and undulating, so you have to keep a close eye on your footwork — which is difficult with all of the magical scenery around you! We cross a few snowfields on our way today, and Graham gave a short lecture on the way to cross them safely. Hayley is finding them hard to negotiate, but as the holiday goes on she becomes quite an expert. Within three weeks these snowfields will have gone and the later trips will not have them to deal with.

We see an ibex, a mountain dweller which is extremely tame — probably because they have got used to being fed by tourists. Lee's fascination with this creature became somewhat of a photo fest! Still, out of the thousand or so photographs he took he surely has to have one good one. The walk soon ends with a tough descent down some iron steps with handrails and a rugged path steeply down to the hamlet of Les Frasserands (1371m) and a well-earned beer. We wait here for the rest of the group who understandably take the tough descent at their own pace. Lee and I tried our hardest to slow Ted down with our fear of him tripping on the steep and uneven path — he is 73, you know! This was to no avail as he shot past us gazelle-like, and the sure-footed Aussie scampered down the mountain. I guess he could smell amber nectar at the end like a true Aussie!

We arrive at the campsite which is right in the bottom of the valley, a mile lower down than the village of Le Tour. To our delight the tents are erected (thanks Lewis!) and kitbags are inside. I decide on a shower as we are having dinner tonight in the site clubhouse and hopefully get to watch the match.

The meal was average, but the company was excellent with good-humoured banter after our first walking day. We manage to get in front of the clubhouse TV for the match: Italy beat England 5–3 on penalties. Same old story, and we are out again on penalties. Good night!