Der Himmel über Berlin

Day 3

Apparently my boots that caused me almost immesurable discomfort in lugging all the way from Berlin are not suitable. Fantastic. Hired new ones, along with other gear and spent an unmentionable amount of money in Chamonix on other necessities.

It always confounds me how, once people get into groups of about five or more, that the simplest of tasks end up taking fecking hours. This, coupled with my desperation to finally, finally set foot on a mountain (even an invisible one, which was lucky as there still wasn't any other kind) made me a very impatient and frustrated young man by the time we were getting on a chair lift at about 1500. Impatient to the extent that I forgot to put down the safety bar and nearly fell out.

Our ultimate destination was Cabane d'Orly, a cabin at 2,831m, from which we will tomorrow morning be able to assult the peak of Aiguille du Tour (3,544m). It was an easy trek through moist cloud, which cleared once for about a minute to give us a very brief glimpse of a sweeping valley, sheer cliff faces and, in the distance, luxuriously snow-capped peaks. What more encouragement could a frustrated mountain lunatic need?

Made the cabin in plenty of time to see the cloud disperse for a stunning sunset.

Worth the wait.

Day 2
Every time I stay in a hostel, I wish that I was a really heavy snorer, just to give the other snoring bastards a taste of their own fecking medicine.

However, if I were a snorer, I would get a single room since I am not an inconsiderate prick like the guy I shared with last night.

In other news, the mountains are still absent and I am beginning to suspect that they packed their bags for sunnier climes, and that over the coming days I will get a self-satisfied postcard from Mont Blanc as he suns himself on a beach somewhere.

Made it to the hotel in the village of Les Houches, allegedly at the base of Mont Blanc, and met the eight other adventurers that my mountain buddy Alan and I will be spending the next week with. I am pleased to report that a number of them certainly appear to have not been training as hard as either of us over the last months. Still, one of them looks like he could climb it walking on his hands while juggling me with his feet. So I'm not getting complacent just yet.

Being ignorant and not particularly caring about getting to know any of them, I retired early in preparation for tomorrow's foray into the Alps. If they haven't returned from holiday by then, well, we'll just have to dig several big holes and climb in and out of them for a week.