Defeated by the mountain

The task: To hike from Die(400m) to Montagne du Glandasse(1585-2016m), walking along the ridge line northward and return via Romeyer.
The team: Guzik and I
Time: 1.5 days
Distance: 26km

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Packed and ready by late afternoon I sit and consult the map one last time. Lifting my pack I estimate it weighs in at about 20kg - much heavier than I planned, but with no creeks along the way I must carry 7kg of water for Guzik and I.

The clock strikes 5 - lets begin. Climbing in the late afternoon sun we reach Pas de Sagatte (997m) before falling back into the valley of Serre-Jean (700m).



From the grassy slopes of Serre-Jean we climb once more to Col de Menil(1125m).

So far we've travelled 12km and from here the mountain ridge looks close, but a steep ascent separates us from the top. I decide to camp for the night and tackle the ascent tomorrow.

No camp would be complete without a campfire so Guzik and I set off for sticks. Each stick I find Guzik grabs too, thinking it's a game. Sacrificing one stick I throw it for Guzik. He Bounds after the flying stick as I quickly grab the remaining sticks and start walking back. Turning his head Guzik notices I have a much bigger pile of sticks and sprints back. Latched on I fight my way back to the campsite with Guzik tugging in opposition.


With the light fading we eat, then settle down by the campfire with a book in hand.

The night is short and my sleep disturbed. Scared by the owls and forest creatures Guzik barks at every squawk or breaking twig.

We rise at 5am and pack everything back into my backpack. Until now we have walked on well worn paths through moderate terrain. However today we face a steep ascent off the traditional paths and with only occasional red markers to guide our way.

The climb is difficult, and my pack weighs heavily on my back. I struggle, pulling myself up with trees and shrubs. Nearing the top I smile with relief as I can see the cliff face through the treeline. My smile soon fades as I realise the last 200m is the hardest. The surface is littered with fine pebbles and with each step the ground moves from under us sending a wave of stones like a mini avalanche down the mountain. We fight our way up, until finally with one last ginger step I place foot on solid ground just beneath the cliff face.



Feeling like the worst is over, we break for a moment. Looking out over the valley I feel relieved to be so near to the top, and cheerful about the ridge walk ahead.



Standing, I look around for the way on. I cant find it. Securing my backpack to a tree I start searching. Finding a worn path I follow it across and over a ridge. Here the path disappears as the surface turns again to fine pebbles. Stepping down slowly I begin to slide. The ground levels momentarily and we explore a passage to the right. Guzik - ahead of me reaches the peak at the end then stops. I arrive and look over. The edge is sheer. The mountain side has collapsed and rocks are strewn everywhere like sand from a failing sandcastle. My heart skips. I think to myself: if Guzik falls here there will be no way to get to him. The danger is real - we retreat.

Next to my backpack I contemplate our options. With dismay I realise our only option is to go down.


Our descent is slow. Sliding is inevitable, maintaining control is a challenge. My legs grow weak.

Finally we break through the trees at Col de Menil. Lying in the grass I'm so happy to be back on normal ground. I look back up at the mountain this time with weary eyes. The wind blows and I hear the sound of falling rocks.

Replanning the route we weave our way down through the valley to Romeyer. From Romeyer the track is easy, and within an hour we're back in Die.

Walking into the house I collapse onto the couch, my feet are blistered, and my leg is bleeding, but we're home.

The sheep will wait...

7:30am - my alarm blasts. Snooze.
7:40am - The sheep will wait.
7:50am - alarm off.
8:02am - beep beep, I receive 2 text messages.
Arrrggghhhh, OK! I throw on some clothes, grab my camera and run out the door.

Out on the street I find myself surrounded by people. They've all come for the same reason - to see the annual sheep migration. Finding a sunny patch of pavement I sit and wait.



15 minutes pass; the crowd grows rowdy and as I stand I see a Shepherd with his favourite brown goat and behind him hundreds if not thousands of sheep.



The crowd divides and as the Shepherd walks through the sheep follow bustling for space. Within minutes the sheep have passed and the street grows quiet. All that remains is a trail of poo trampled to the horizon.



Seizing the opportunity for a second viewing I run down a backstreet, bypassing the main street I arrive in the old town square where people are still milling with anticipation. Its market day today, and the sheep will soon arrive and pass between the stalls.

With a couple of minutes to spare I look for the best spot to take photos. I pass by fresh fruit stands, colourful bags and sheep skins. I wonder what the sheep will think when they see all this! Finally I find my spot, just outside the butchers :)


Taking aim I focus as sheep approach. Snap, snap, snap. A baby lamp pauses looking at me sitting outside the butchers then scurries onward.


Again the street grows frantic; sheep run through with bells clanging goats hold their heads high and then just as fast as it all started it ends.

As I walk home the sheep continue on to another nearby town, then up into the mountains to graze in the higher plains at 2000m. I arrive home happy to have seen this once in a year event.

Fontainebleu memories

As Fontainebleau melts in the distance I want to share a few memories:

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Polish party of 3
Leaving Poland over a month ago Polish is the last language I expect to hear; but on the second day in Fontainebleau we are lucky enough to find ourselves bouldering with a Polish couple.

Coming over from London Ada and Grzes bring their 2 month old baby daughter Nela and pushing a pram stroll into the thickest collection of boulders in France. Instantly in love with their travelling approach, we spent several days enjoying their company and generosity before the pressure of time forces us to leave Fontainebleau.

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The Irish crew

Perched on the top of my conquered boulder I look around for other climbers. Drifting up an adjacent rock face I hear the sounds of familiar accent. But which... Irish!

Exchanging a few words on the way up Jane arrives at the top, sits and rolls a smoke. From our castles in the sky we briefly chat while her companions each climb up and join her.

Standing on the top Jane, Sonia, Kevin and Seamuus look around then ask: "how do we get down?" hmm. Unfortunately this being one of the steepest boulders the traditional descent is by shimmying down with feet on one boulder and back pressed up against the other. Peering over the edge the girls are not eager and look for other possibilities. 10 minutes later and with the aid of two 'crash mats' all 4 are safely back on solid ground - No broken legs, no tears and the only comment: "I'm not going up there again!"

The day proceeds and by its end we have a BBQ invite. A quick shop for meat turns into a mission and once at the checkout we have enough food to feed a third world country not to mention sparing no expense on cocktail umbrellas and gold plated cutlery.

Arriving at the caravan park we settle in for the evening with a beer in one hand and tongs in the other. The BBQ is a fantastic success, and with full bellies and 4 pork chops still sizzling we invite our caravan park neighbours from across the way to join us. Bringing a cask of wine they accept and glass by glass wine and conversation runs rich late into the night.

Waking at a respectable hour we gather our belongings and repack the van. Waving goodbye the van grumbles and we're on our way.

la friendly french stalker

Waking from our second night in Fontainebleau we are surprised to see another car parked just behind us. The occupant - one man - appears to be sitting watching us. Finding his behaviour odd Fred and I mutter comments to one another about our new found stalker.

Later while walking Guzik the stalker emerges from his car and approaches Fred. Conversation follows and upon returning Fred tells of the mysterious man. Our stalker turns out to be a extremely friendly french man working at the racecourse. Determined to always arrive at work on time he leaves home early, and arrives at the racecourse early, giving himself time to relax before his shift starts.

Our mystery man enjoys taking and as they speak he begins to glow with excitement like a child at the opportunity to learn from his new friend. Fred invites him for coffee the following morning.

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Waking late after a tiring day of climbing we realise our Frenchman has already begun his work. Opening the van door to our surprise we find that he has left us some gifts. Lying by the car wheel is a bag of jam filled baby baguettes, a bottle of orange juice, 2 beers and a bag of dog food - what an amazingly kind guy!

We promise ourselves to cook him a nice breakfast the next day.

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Unfortunately during travel plans change rapidly - that night we do not return to the racecourse campsite. We are not able to thank the Frenchman or repay his kindness in any way. We leave not even knowing his name. But we will always remember him -  our kind french stalker.

Stuttgart Memories

Let me say this: Stuttgart feels very small, and as a tourist I would probably only spend an afternoon before moving on to other destinations. However, as we were staying with a local couple - Molly and Chris - we saw it through different eyes.

Located on a hill just above the city centre Molly and Chris have an ideal flat. A short stroll up the road and you'll find yourself in the middle of the forest. Surrounded by the tweeting of birds you can completely forget that you're still in the city. 15 minutes down the road and you're in the city centre with all the attractions of Stuttgart at your fingertips.

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While staying in Stuttgart I relaxed into an easy and comfortable lifestyle. Each day started with fresh tasty coffee and delicious food. Daily plans were simple and free time plentiful. I felt stress free, and my mind opened to new ideas. I thought of peoples lives, and how all individuals have great achievements in their lives. Each person follows a path of discovery and each person has a story to tell. I researched into Mind mapping techniques and prototyped how this could be used to create an individuals profile. Like many of my ideas the concept was there, but making it into something more takes time and patience, and so this idea was put on ice.

By night my creativity continued - and after tearing apart a cardboard box I managed to make my version of Settlers of Catan. Not as flashy as the original but with a personal touch this game has proven to provide a social evening for many.

Catan

With time and creativity a person can build nearly anything. Like macgyver I set myself a challenge - this time to create the board game 'Settlers of Catan' from little more than a toilet roll, 5 tooth picks and 30cm of sticky tape.

This moment of inspiration came after playing the real game at Mandy's back in Dresden. Not feeling rich enough to buy the game new we crossed our fingers and ventured into the Dresden second hand market. No joy - we returned home with our heads hung low.

Unable to accept defeat and with a large cardboard box at my disposal I set about recreating the game from memory. Several hours later (3am - truth be told) the basic pieces were complete. Evolving further over a couple of days the beta release is now tried and tested.

The results, well see for yourself:

The original




Our version...

Materials and Cost:
Game board (cardboard hexagons) - FREE
Playing cards (Annotated 2 standard playing card packs) - cost 43 euro cents to buy at the Dresden market
Settlement and City objects (coloured 1cent and 10cents) - cost 180 euro cents
Roads (cardboard) - FREE
Dice - Kindly donated

Total cost: 2 euro 23 cents! :)

To find out more about the game check out:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Settlers_of_Catan

Dresden Memories

Its been 12 days since we started our trip, and today we are leaving Dresden. Originally a quick stepping stone on to new places - Dresden turned into something much more. Fred found a story, I found a girl.

Mandy, Mandy, Mandy... but lets not rush. Now: from the beginning.

I met Mandy a few days after arriving in Dresden. Our first chat was warm and friendly but too short. Opportunity was in my favour and the following day we met again. Days ran into one another, and what remains now is a Mosaic of magical memories. I have a lot to thank Mandy for - through her Dresden has found a special place in my heart.

A couple of moments:

  
Mandy takes me on a brief tour through the lost world of Dresden. Somehow we find ourselves in a small courtyard, on one side is a Murial symbolising water, the other wall one for the sun, and around the corner one for wind. Today time is short - but someday soon I'd like to return and see the rain tinkling down through the pipes; the sun blazing off the golden mirrors and the wind filling the white sails.

Over the rainbow:
The weather is not the best, but we decide to venture out on bikes. Mandy wants to show me a beautiful area along the river. From her house we ride out along the footpaths, and down rocky lane ways, We reach a castle overlooking the river. It's raining cats and dogs so we take cover in the deserted castle cafe. There's always a sense of excitement when running for cover as the thunder drums a deafening tune above.

  While waiting we eat juicy apples. A small bird visits and without
hesitation decides to share Mandy's apple.

 

The rain pauses, and the skies begin to clear. Dresden is shrouded in fog, and as the light begins to fade Dresden bathes in the pink twilight.

 

Venturing onward we ride next to the river until we come to the 'blue wonder bridge'; we cross and return via a path that weaves along the grassy rivers edge. Luck runs out and the rain begins once more to fall. We arrive back to Mandy's soaked, but happy.

Click for more Pictures