Tour du Mont Blanc: Days 3 & 4

Day 3 (29 July): Les Chapieux to Combal (12 miles, 3,100 feet ascent, 2,700 feet descent)

Chatting at the communal breakfast table, the young mother worries that her daughter is wide awake at night after sleeping most of the day in her papoose. I did not appreciate that she was sharing a room with the Irish family, who assure her that the child did not disturb their sleep. She looks incredibly fit, but her pack weighs 15 kg, and she is carrying her child over these mountains in this heat: amazing.

Our hotel, like others on the TMB, requires you to leave your gear in a storage room and decant what you need for the night into a crate, keeping the trail dirt and bugs outside. Unfortunately, cramming Hayley’s hiking poles into my shelf space, I appear to have torn the mesh webbing on my backpack. Either that or mice were after my leftover apple cake.

It’s another glorious morning as we ascend the road to the head of the valley, dominated by Aiguille de Glaciers. How long will it remain worthy of that name as the glaciers recede year by year and our planet bakes?

Leaving the road to begin a long switchback up the mountainside, we pass our breakfast companion sheltering in the shade with her child. The heat is oppressive, and she has barely begun the climb. Jude and I worry about her.

The higher we climb, the more sublime the views back down the valley.

It’s a relief to reach Col de la Seigne, crossing from France into Italy. I practice my “Buongiorno”.

My camera fails to capture the breathtaking view down the valley, dominated by the jagged peaks of Mont Blanc, surely the highlight of the trip so far.

At this point I slip into grumpy old man mode, having to wait 10 minutes while a group of twenty-somethings monopolise the ridge in front of the view with a series of synchronised routines for TikTok, repeating them each time another one of their group arrives at the summit, huddled round their phones to make sure the video is up to scratch. When the last two women refuse to leave, taking turns to leap up and down for each other, I lose my patience and join them on the ridge. Strangely, they don’t seem to want me in their photos and move off.

After lunch, we move down into the valley, Hayley acquiring a freeloader for much of the descent. We can’t decide whether it’s attracted to light clothing or, less charitably, sweat. My iPhone tells me this is an Escher’s Blue (Polyommatus), but I’ll defer to those more knowledgeable.

How strange to find a straight Roman road, somewhat at odds with the surrounding jagged crags, slicing through the pretty alpine meadow swarming with butterflies. I assume this was a supply route for the legions controlling France.

To avoid staying in a mountain hut, we must catch a bus to Courmayeur, our base for the next three nights. As expected, despite being one of the first to arrive at the stop, the queue descends into anarchy, so I force our way on. The three of us are squeezed into various frozen postures, Jude pinned against the window by a late-arriving pushchair. The bus rattles down the mountain road, at one point scraping loudly against a bus coming in the opposite direction. Best not to look at the small gap at the cliff edge.

The Hotel Bouton has a shady garden where we slump into chairs for well-earned cold drinks. Just one word of advice for Courmayeur: make sure you book a restaurant in advance!

Day 4 (30 July): Combal to Courmayeur (7 miles, 2,500 feet ascent, 2,400 feet descent)

I’ve fallen in love with Focaccia bread, stashing a huge freshly baked slab in my backpack for the day ahead. Of course, it quickly becomes known as Lembas bread, but that’s what you get when you raise your children on The Lord of the Rings.

The bus is mercifully less crowded this morning, dropping us off for a one-hour climb to retrace our descent from yesterday and eventually rejoin the trail. I’m delighted to capture Hayley unawares.

A shepherd rests in the shade as newborn lambs totter next to the trail, weighed down by pendulous ears.

The serene balcony walk offers a superb view of the glaciers dividing the south face of Mont Blanc.

Paragliders circle for hours, high above the peaks, riding the thermals generated by the warm rock face.

We begin our long descent into Courmayeur, threading between a series of ski lifts and cable cars. Sheep and goats rest on a hillock, guarded by a large, white patou, the Pyrenean Mountain Dog. Two hikers walk past with a small dog, and the patou rushes across, barking loudly. Two more guardians bound down the nearby hillsides, and the three large dogs circle the unfortunate couple, barking and lunging until they have left the area. We follow, and I don’t stop for a photograph.

The patou is used to protect flocks from wolves and bears, placed with sheep as a puppy to bond and see them as its social family rather than humans. They certainly keep the hikers well away!

Another wonderful two days. We have a welcome rest day tomorrow, when the fourth member of our expedition arrives. More Lembas bread?