Marathon Touraine Loire Valley, September 23

It was wet and windy for my marathon today, quite a change from the hot weather I’ve had almost all summer in Europe. The Marathon Touraine Loire Valley (yes, English spelling) sounded like a pretty race going through little villages and along the Loire river, starting in the centre of Tours. I found it quite humid at first and I worried about that, and also the road seemed slippery in the wet.

The route took us along small roads and bike tracks (Loire à vélo) through farmland (that means cornfields and other vegetables) - I recall a huge field of bright green spinach leaves - and some light forest. We ran alongside a small river for a while. The highlight at 19 km was running through the grounds of Chateau Villandry, a pretty castle in pretty grounds, although the path was very slippery. Next door to the castle was a nice looking Romanesque church. A lot of the route wasn’t all that exciting, a bit like running the Traralgon Marathon with a castle thrown in and the supporters calling out in French. On the return part we came through several villages, all tiny.

As usual in France the supporters were great, calling out enthusiastically ‘bravo’ and ‘allez Julia’ and never once saying I was almost done. In the villages people leaned out of their windows and stood by their front doors to encourage us.

The aid stations were frequent, mostly with just water, and fruit, raisins and ginger cake (not so nice). They gave us a whole bottle of water each time, which was far too much on such a cool day but would have been wonderful in hot weather.

I tried to keep up a decent pace but the headwind was quite strong at several points. The route was basically flat. We did a sort of rectangular shaped course and on the way back there was a lot of tailwind. Despite that I slowed in the second half, but in the later stages I was passing loads of people. I managed a spurt to the finish line.

Once I finished and met up with Denis I realised I was really wet and getting cold. I didn’t see the paella party mentioned on the race website and we went straight back to the hotel, then we went out for great pizza.

Tour of Mont Blanc

This alpine hike was the focus of my whole trip and it did not disappoint. Eight days of unparalleled hiking enjoyment over about 175 kilometres in three countries around the perimeter of the Mont Blanc massif. I had, for the most part, perfect weather and the feast of glorious views will be hard to put into words. Almost every day I was able to indulge my love of hiking uphill with climbs of 800 to 1300 vertical metres. The descents always felt longer to me, though. My fears about travelling too light and having made my days ambitiously long came to nothing and I feel that there is little I could have changed for the better. The only items in my pack that I never got to use were my rain pants and my earplugs, and that has to be an indication of a good time.

Sunday 2 September

A longish climb out of Courmayeur (1226m) in forest with a few openings to look back down on the town. And then I was above the tree line with mountains all along the horizon. I knew then and there that this hike would be ok! As I approached Refugio Bertoni there was a helicopter landing with supplies, which seemed to be cartons of wine bottles. There were helicopters buzzing around all day keeping an eye on things at the UTMB which was finishing this afternoon.

The trail contoured for a long while, passing some derelict huts, and I reached Refugio Bonatti where I had my first clear view of Mont Blanc. The hut terrace was very busy, but that’s no surprise in such a setting. I then had to descend all the way back down, cross a river and climb back up again. The climb up was busy with day trippers and it looked to me that the clouds might be moving in. There was a refuge half way up, where the daytrippers were stopping, and then the climbing got serious. 

After a while I was in cloud which lasted right up to the Col Grand Ferret (2537m) and there was nobody much around. At the col I peeked over the other side and where I should have seen Switzerland there was ....nothing. I put on beanie, gloves and jacket and sat down to eat lunch. The descent was at a pleasant grade and the cloud cleared a little to reveal grassy mountainsides.

I arrived at my destination refuge, La Peule, which is still a working farm. So there were noisy cows and lots of pigs. The sleeping arrangements were one big dormitory and outside toilets. It was very cold inside and out. We had bread fondue for dinner and the atmosphere was more social than my previous experiences. (This proved to be a feature of the whole hike.) Everyone was in bed before 8pm and the snoring was bad.

Monday

It was still cold in the morning and you couldn’t see much, but the cloud was moving around so Switzerland was going to be on display soon. In the morning I went through several quaint villages, with stretches in forest and across meadows and I got some mountain views. The cows had the biggest cowbells imaginable. The buildings were mostly stone so the villages looked quite different from the timber Austrian villages. There were lots of hikers around. I stopped for coffee at Issert.

After Issert the trail climbed in forest, high above Orsieres, and the trail was well marked by striped poles remaining from the UTMB. I got finally to Champex and its lake, but it was very windy by the water so I just ate my lunch there quickly and went on to see where I would be continuing tomorrow.

I stayed in a hotel down in Orsieres, off the trail, and I had a long wait for the bus. While waiting I bought Rivella for old times' sake and chocolate.

Tuesday

I had a late start because of the bus times, but this turned out to be one of the best days. The weather had improved dramatically and was pretty much perfect for my assault on the Fenetre d'Arpette (2665m). I was also very happy to find my sunnies safely in my pack because I had been convinced yesterday that I had lost them.

I started with a gentle amble out of Champex, crossing meadows and climbing gradually. Quite soon I could see in the far distance what was obviously the fenetre: it was a slight and almost rectangular dip in the mountain range that spread across the horizon. The climb got steeper and moved onto scree. Then there was a huge boulder field to cross with some scrambling, but the route was well marked. The last section was a steep zigzag. The view at the top was unexpectedly amazing: the Trient glacier being the main feature, but it was only one thing among a selection of glaciers and peaks. The fenetre (the hotel owner had told me sternly this was a fenetre and not a col) was crowded and noisy. I sat there for half an hour.

The descent was quite hard, steep and often slippery. It took several hours but the views of the Trient glacier and then further glaciers compensated and I quickly left the crowds behind. Even when I got back into the forest I still had a long way to go. After ages I came to a derelict hut with a terrace overlooking the mountains, and then much further on a live hut. From here I followed a stream towards Trient, still quite high above the river fed by the glacier, and came down to the village. Trient's highlight is its pink church. There is a choice of two hostels in the village and nothing else. We had potato fondue for dinner.

Wednesday

Another really great day. The climb out of Trient was fairly steep but I made good time and passed a lot of people; only a trio of French guys passed me. The Col de la Balme was a surprise for suddenly there were amazing views of the Mont Blanc massif. 

Most people appeared to stop at the col but I continued on into France and the views got even better as Mont Blanc itself came into view for the first time in a couple of days. All the way up and over the Aiguillette des Posettes (2201m) I had this great view and this area was mostly devoid of other hikers. The descent to Tre le Champ was an anticlimax. 

I stopped for a coffee at Tre le Champ and saw the French guys eating lunch. I headed off soon but then wasn’t sure if I had the right path; I saw the French guys approaching and they assured me I was going the right way. I followed them closely but then I suddenly rolled my ankle and stopped for a few minutes. The ankle settled down but I had lost my guides. After a while the route didn’t accord with my guide book and I started going the opposite way to the signs; this proved to be the right thing to do and after three such actions I was back on track.

The ensuing climb to the Tete aux Vents (2132m) was full of hairpins and steep, featuring higher up a sequence of metal ladders and other aids. The area was really busy. At my first ladder there was a lengthy hold up because a large group of very slow people were coming down, but after that it was plain sailing and not at all scary. The Tete aux Vents was windswept and nobody lingered despite the views, but I ate my lunch there. 

I then had a gradual descent to La Flegere refuge which was at the top of a cable car, spotting a snake on the way. There was a massive queue at the cable car station so this part of the trail was obviously popular with daytrippers. The hut was pretty basic but good company, and another very early night with lots of snoring.

Thursday

The weather was clearly deteriorating, with dark clouds from early on but a nice panorama of mountains. I marched along uphill not too far from the people I had eaten with at the refuge. I went a bit wrong, then I saw them go wrong. Then I went badly off course and ended up on a boulder slope which was tricky. I looked back and saw exactly where hikers were turning off the trail I had been on but instead of turning back I hoped I could meet the right route ahead. Of course I couldn’t and almost ended up back at La Flegere, so I had to retrace my path through the boulders and took the missed turning. At that point I realised that I had read about this turning in my guide book and even highlighted it.

The remaining climb to the Col du Brevent (2368m) was stony and away from the high mountain views and during this time there were a few spots of rain. And some pale rainbows. I was checking with everyone coming towards me that I was going the right way, and I asked one group in German because I thought that was what I had heard them speaking; it turned out they were Danish but fortunately I was too focussed on climbing to mention how I had been told that Danish was more of a throat disease than a language. It was amusing asking people where they were going or coming from because of the different ways people pronounced the refuge names. 

The final climb to the top of the Brevent cable car (2526m) was rocky and steep and at the top is supposed to be one of the finest views in the Alps. Not for me. Just cloud. But at least I got the view for part of the approach.

The descent was at first a pleasant amble secluded among rocky hillsides, passing a pretty lake and a hut perched on a cliff. It was a long way down to Les Houches (1007m), my longest descent of the whole hike. As I came into the forest the rain started in earnest. 

I emerged briefly from the forest at a parking area with picnic tables that seemed to be staying dry under some trees and sat there for a while, then went on down. I had put on my pack cover but I wasn’t getting all that wet so I didn’t even put on my jacket. From here the route was harder to follow. I was a bit on the road, back in the forest and back on the road. I ran for a while. Finally I saw the Les Houches railway station and from here it was not far into the deserted town. I stopped for coffee at the first cafe I saw. What’s this obsession with coffee? Answer: the breakfast coffee was never any good. Only Austrians do decent coffee at breakfast.

I stayed at a hotel in Les Houches that was back past the railway station, with a nice view of the mountains except that they were mostly in a swirling mist. (A week later I came through Chamonix on the bus and saw Mont Blanc perfectly from this side. I also marvelled at how high up were the La Flegere and Brevent cablecars.)

Friday

This was the least exciting day of the hike, mainly because of the weather. Les Houches was all in cloud when I woke up and it only lifted a little by the time I was on my way. I had breakfast at the bakery, very nice, then I had a stiff climb on a ski access road up to the Col de Voza. It wasn’t especially high and had a big hotel. Here I had to make a decision about taking the low route or the high route to Les Contamines. The col was completely in cloud so I had no choice but to take the low route. 

The route was a mix of forest trails, farm roads and sealed roads and went through several atmospheric villages. It was all very old, including some tiny chapels. The clouds shifted a little but never properly lifted. I made lots of short stops. Les Contamines was a long village with a few hikers hanging around and I stopped for coffee at the first place I saw. I wanted lunch but it seemed I stopped at the one cafe that didn’t do food (as the owner grumpily responded to my request for a sandwich).

I stayed at a hotel on the edge of the town, but if I were planning now I would go on to the next refuge. It’s a problem with this hike being so popular that you have to commit to your accommodation a long time in advance. I met so many people whose daily distance was dictated by hut availability.

Saturday

I was so delighted to wake up to a perfect blue sky. I marched rapidly out of Les Contamines, passing the church of Notre Dame and climbing on a rough road, built by the Romans I understand, at a gentle grade up to a couple of refuges. From there I ascended through meadows to the Col du Bonhomme where there was a tiny hut and huge views of alpine grasslands and rock faces. There was a group of French hikers paused there who were doing this hike for the seventh time. 

The trail became rocky and scree from here, climbing gradually to the Col de la Croix du Bonhomme. Magic views in all directions and it was going to get better. I continued climbing and reached the Col des Fours (2665m), like a cutting through red rocks. Two sets of French women had brought their dogs up here and they had quite an altercation about the dogs' behaviour. From here you could see Mont Blanc again for the first time in ages but it was partly hidden by the Tete Nord, so I climbed that. One of the dog owners came up also and told someone else in great detail about the poor attitude of the other dog owner.

At the Tete Nord (2756m) was a plaque labelling everything in sight and more. Even Aime was marked! I was pretty close and I could no doubt see the glacier I ran on. Mont Blanc was very clear, actually15 kilometres away, but you couldn’t see the intervening glaciers and lower peaks. I had lunch up there.

The descent from the col was long and steep at first, crossing lots of streams and passing plenty of cows. Everyone seems mesmerised by the cows and stops to take pictures. Some have big horns but they’re all tame, in my experience. I was alone most of the time, heading for the valley far below. I came to a farm road and some deserted buildings, then crossed the river and walked up the valley to my destination refuge. 

Les Mottets was definitely the nicest refuge I used on this hike. It was a former farm with the cowsheds being the dormitories (they had about 40 beds each in a long line) and it was set right up against the mountains. I was given two mattresses in a little alcove along the line so I felt like I had my own room. Across the hillside were hundreds of cows jangling away. There was a great friendly crowd at meals. For dinner we had soup, cabbage salad, meat stew with vegetables and rice, creme brûlée.

Sunday 9 September 

Perfect weather once again. This was the only time to my knowledge that someone saw me preparing my illicit lunch, while he did the same. I set out on the climb above the refuge to the Col de la Seigne (2516m). It wasn’t a difficult climb and the view up there was one of the best. Mont Blanc was very close and there was a romantic vista of clouds hanging in the valley directly ahead. I lingered for a while and even accepted an offer to have my photo taken.

I continued on in the direction I had seen others go, now back in Italy. The path seemed very multi-stranded and I didn’t worry too much which strand I took. After a while I came to extensive scree slopes and on one of these was a patch of ice. I decided it was time to try out my crampons (even though there was a path close by that avoided the ice) and, much to the amusement of a Frenchman who watched me, I walked comfortably across the five metres of ice. The Frenchman continued ahead of me as I sat to remove the crampons and I watched him traverse the scree, climbing steadily. It occurred to me that I might not be going the right way since I wasn’t meant to be climbing and I could see no one who had left the col ahead of me. When I reached the top I learnt for sure I was in the wrong place. The man was still there and I told him where I expected to be; he laughed and pointed out Refugio Elisabetta I was aiming for far away in the valley. However this Col de Chavanne (the French name was a clue that I had erroneously returned to France) was a junction with the local Alta Via 2 (not to be confused with the Alta Via 2 in the Dolomites) which also passes that refugio. So I was able to descend easily and rejoin the correct trail. It was my own 'variante' as the Frenchman said, and I'm sure an improvement on the main route.

From the refugio I headed down the valley and then had another climb through meadows to an outcrop which marked my last high point of the hike. The view across to the Mont Blanc massif, glaciers and all, was wonderful, with just a few clouds hovering. I had this view to my left for hours. There were some marmots, screaming just as they did in Austria. (The first time I heard a marmot scream, on the Adlerweg, I got a huge shock because I was just having a toilet break and I thought someone must have been watching me and blowing a whistle!)

The trail headed down a bit passing lovely round lakes, through light fir forest and then entered the Courmayeur ski area. This wasn’t quite so beautiful. The final out of town stretch was down a very sandy forest trail, quite steep. I could already see Courmayeur clearly. From the forest I emerged in Dolonne which must be the original settlement, judging by its old stone buildings and narrow streets. 

And then I was back in Courmayeur. With filthy legs and shoes from the sandy trail. I went straight to a cafe for a cappuccino and a brioche and looked up at the mountains. The mountain views were so much clearer than when I had left the town eight days ago and the town seemed very lively for a Sunday. I never got the impression that many people start and finish the hike in Courmayeur but it seemed perfect to me. Not only is it the town you would most want to spend time in, for me doing it like this resulted in the less interesting days being tucked away in the middle of the hike.

Running (for a change)

Roman arch, Aosta

Ok, so I’ve been doing a lot of hiking recently but I have also done a bit of running. Not much, but just enough so I don’t feel I’m forgetting how to do it. Or how nice it feels. 

This morning I went for a run along the river in Aosta (Italy). Flat, lots of oxygen available, no chance to get lost. So it wasn’t the most exciting run but I got to shake my legs out a little and the distance was marked out on the path so I knew how much I was doing. The river was fast flowing with lots of ripples of white water and bushy along the banks. I was running on a bike path and on the opposite bank was the highway. Beyond my path we’re playing fields, a rather dismal looking caravan park and some industrial stuff. But beyond those not so special things were the mountains. It was a bit cloudy so the tops were hidden, but I could see lots of small villages, churches and even small castles. I think Mont Blanc is close but I couldn’t see it. All up I did just over ten kilometres.

In Innsbruck (Austria) I also went for a nice run along the river. I ran from the centre of town to the airport, around the edge of the airport and on to the end of the track. This mad for a fifteen kilometre round trip. I had done the exact same run in the winter at the beginning of 2016. Because of the snow on the ground and the general feeling that it wasn’t really running weather, the run seemed like a lot longer that time.

It’s a lovely run because it’s far from the roads, there are little parks and I got well beyond the built up area. The first time I went I didn’t know how far I was going to go so I would just decide to run as far as the next bridge, a certain church I could see, then the airport tower, then the main road in the next village. Coming back Innsbruck had woken up and the streets were busy. Every time I come to Innsbruck I try to work out where the marathon (Tirol Speed Marathon, now discontinued) that I ran here in 2006 finished, where we (the fam) all sat in the street and ate chicken and drank beer and Natasha had to help me get down the stairs to the toilets so I could change, but I never can get the place. 

I did a very short run in Garmisch Partenkirchen (Germany) up to a small lake and a historic Olympic bobsleigh run. The lake was tiny, the hotel beside it may have been bigger than the lake, and I was surprised how quickly the town became rural.

Moving backwards, I had a wet run in Fuessen (Germany) after Sophie and I finished the Lechweg. I was just intending to run around the town, but I went up the hill to the main part of the castle/palace and found some forest trails beyond there. I went along a trail that was heading to some viewpoint but I didn’t go the whole way as there would have been no view since everything was in cloud. I came down on another trail and ended up by the Lechfall where the Lechweg ends. It was some kind of tourist enclave with several hotels and restaurants. But better than that I found a couple of lakes and a ski jump.

In Albertville (France) I went for a couple of very enjoyable runs. The first time I went up the hill past the old Medieval area of Conflans and continued up until I could join another road and come down a different way. It was quite an uphill slog and a hot day, but lots of huts and meadows to look at and I think it was on this year's Tour de France route. As I plugged on with the uphill I wondered if there really was a junction where I could turn back, and I was most surprised to see a woman walking her dog emerge from the junction when I got there. The other time I did a shorter run through a couple of neighbouring villages. I had taken a sketch map with me but about half way the reality did not exactly match up; I saw a woman on her balcony and asked the way, then her husband appeared and told me where to go (what was a road on the map was only a makeshift trail over grass). It worked but I ended up with a short cut to my planned run.

I had several lovely but hot runs in Cologne (Germany) along the Rhine and found some trails passing small beaches and meadows, and even a bit of forest. Then I ran through parks in the green belt to the west of the city, aiming for the Aachener Weiher which is a square reservoir. On this last run I got quite lost  and it took me several attempts with my halting German to get someone to explain where I had to go.

Ditto with the heat in Geneva (Switzerland) where I ran twice. The first time I ran along Lac Leman as far as the Botanical Gardens, where it seemed like everyone else runs when in town. Nice lake to look at and gardens. But it was so hot that I felt faint when I got back to my hotel after nine kilometres. The second time I went to the same place but intended to go further. It was the Swiss national day (August 1) and lots of revellers were still out from the night before. I thought the Swiss were very neat and tidy and law abiding but there was litter and bottles everywhere. And the Botanical Gardens were still closed when I was there so I couldn’t get inside.

And going right back to the start of this trip I went for a run in Canterbury. I left my room at the Weatherspoons just as the pub was opening at 7am. Otherwise I would have been locked in it seemed. I ran out of the town and after an initial missed turn I followed the Pilgrims Way for a short while. I went through a village and then along rural lanes and it all felt very English.