There's a BIG snowy mounting

It's called Mt Blanc and we were very near it on our last walk.

First though, the staff were napping yesterday and quite forgot to include this picture of a furry friend.  As we walked up the hill near the refuge on the previous day we could hear lots of sharp high-pitched whistles.  I wanted to know who was making them, but the staff said I'd have to wait and see.  Now that's usually grown-up talk for, "That's for me to know."  But, no he was being truthful, I waited and I saw this chap,  close up. When we'd stopped at the cross for our pictures there was a furry object that let out a very loud whistle and then disappeared, whoosh. The staff chuckled when I jumped.  He said, "That's a marmot, and they usually run away when you get close."  That's not fair, 'cos I thought they'd be nice to play with.  Later on though this chap was much bolder and Alan got his photo.  Apparently the marmots eat lots and lots and lots at this time of year and then they sleep while it's cold. That sounds very sensible to me.  (I really don't think that you need to fatten up young bear.) S'not fair so it's not.  Just 'cos you only eat one meal on Mondays and Thursdays doesn't mean I have to. (You're alright bear, I want to lose 14 to 20lbs and this is a good way to do it and at the same time reduce all sorts of health things like cholesterol and growth hormone 1.  I'm quite enjoying it in a masochistic way and I've lost 6lbs already.)  Well, bully for you, but I enjoy my food.  Back to the story!!!

We started the walk at a later hour than before after we drove round through Chamonix and Argentiere before finally parking on a saddle at about 1400m.  In the car park we drew up beside a car which contained two English men and one partner.  The men seemed rather fragile and a bit threadbare. We reckoned at least in their late seventies or early eighties.  "Hello," the said, "Where are you off to?"  Alan explained and then he asked them the same question.  "Oh we're off climbing.  Enjoy your walk and don't get lost."  With that the picked up their hats and rucksacks and headed for the rock faces, closely following some much younger climbers.

The sun was shining and the path seemed smooth from my viewpoint (Not bad from mine either.)  First of all we climbed through the trees with only glimpses of the mountings and things.  Then we were out in the open and this was the view down the valley.  The big hill with the snow on it Mt Blanc the highest place in western Europe.  Himself would love to go up it if he could find another victim, masochist enthusiast to get up there with.



Up they puffed with great views and some scary drops to the left (Not really, though it was a bit airy I suppose.) At one point the path follows logs fixed to the mounting and he took a photo up what he called the stairway to heaven.  Somehow he and John started humming a tune, I don't know why.  He's threatening a photo show called just that.  Soon we reached the top and found a sign saying 2201m, that's 7220ft in old money. No wonder he was puffing like a steam train.



We really liked the views from up there.  After a little snackeral of bread, cheese and ham we took full advantage of the lovely weather to look in all directions.  Here I am enjoying the vista.  Just beyond the rock I'm sitting on you can see the tiny houses down in the valley a mere 1400m/4600ft down in only a few steps.  I was a very brave bear wasn't I sitting up there so close to the edge? (You certainly were.)

 This picture and the next show some of the very high mountings. He wanted to climb the one in the picture below.  It's called Mt Buet and it's 3096m/10157ft high, but with no Bill they thought it best left to another year. Whoopee, that means we can go back doesn't it?  (It certainly does.  We love the area and there's still lots of walking to be done.)


















Soon enough we had to leave what John called, "The best lunch stop ever." He promised both John and me a blueberry tart in the refuge part of the way down.  We got there and his tongue was hanging out; he was fairly slavering, I can tell you.  (Was not!)  Were too! (Was I?) You were. (Oh dear, how undignified.) 
So we settled down for  our tart but there wasn't any!  We could have apple crumble (or crumbel as the French would have it,) so we did and it was not half bad if a bit pricy.


Highlight of the day was John getting a new hat.  I really like the strawberries on it.  It was a bit cumbersome in the wind but I think it suits him, don't you? Alan says something about the red matching his nose, but that's not fair is it?

And, just to prove that I'm not an incoholic I eschewed the beer and had a Coke instead.

We made our way back down to the car park only overtaken a couple of times on the way, and who should turn up at the car but our friends fro the morning.  They hadn't fallen off the rocks or fallen apart, but they had left Mrs Climber somewhere.  I think she got fed up and left them to it.

Well that was it for this year.  Just time for me to show a couple of photos of me in my snug walking compartment.  It's quite tight but, when he leaves the zip open a bit, I can get a great view out - and of course his right ear is just there for me to sing at. (And don't I know it.)

Back soon,

Hugs,

Jock

Snow fun

Well it is fun getting to play in the snow, and that's just what I managed to do on our next walk up near the Lac d'Anterne.  First though we had a day of mooching about.  He said they were tired after two days walking.  I said I didn't understand that, after all I felt perfectly fine and for me it had only been ONE day. (You're not going to forgive me are you?) Nope, why should I? (Ah get over it there's not a lot we can do about it.)  I'm going to huff for ever.  (No you're not, you're a happy bear and happy bears can't manage a petted lip for very long.) Well, OK then, you're right sticking out that lower lip was getting a bit tiring. Shall we get on?

After a day of mooching around and reading and stuff it was time for the hills again.  The weather forecast was good so I got to go, though when we set out in the car the cloud looked a bit low and misty.  It reminded both John and himself of 2004 when they had walked from Samoens all the way to the lake and to the next refuge.  We drove and drove for what seemed like ages and dodged the road crew who were laying tar and stones until we finally made it to our car park quite high up the mountain at 1180m/3870ft in fact. In 2004 they had walked all that way first and the cloud only lifted when they walked through it after the lake where we finished up.

It was still a bit gloomthy when we set out through the woods, but as we got higher up the sun came out and suddenly we were above the clouds.  Staff says it's called a temperature inversion, but how can that be when we weren't standing on our heads.  We were definitely the right way up, so that can't be right.  (It just means that the valley temperature was lower than that higher up so all the mist was down low and it was sunny up on top.) Well it's to clever  by half, and much too much for a bouncefill brain.

We stopped for a break to take in the view and I got to sit on John's rucksack for a few minutes. Isn't it pretty with those mountings sticking up through the mist?  In the second picture you can see that I'm taking on plenty of water.  You have to do that when you're walking and I hoped John wouldn't notice.  (Well, he did notice later when he ran out of water just about this point on the way back down!) Oops, sorry John.  (No harm done, I think he's forgiven you.)

On we walked, and on and on. Before he says anythin' I suppose I should say - on they walked and on and on. They walked off the track so we could see this view of the valley.  Isn't it gorgeous?  It was a bit scary standing down by the cross, because just beyond it was the very quick way down to the valley. The cross was already at 1818m/5965ft and the valley just behind was at about 1318m/4325ft, and that's a long way down in one step!!!!! About 640m/2100ft up from the car park and more to come. 

My tummy was telling me it was time for a little something, and just in the nick of time we reached the Alfred Wills Refuge. Now remember that genepi liqueur? Well it turns out that the Mt Blanc Brewery makes genepi beer, so we just had to try some and very very tasty it was too.  He and I are licking our lips at the memory of it.  It slipped over very nicely indeed, but at 5.9% we decided that one bottle would be plenty.

Lunch when it came was a fantastic plate of charcuterie, two types of sausage, dry cured ham and three sorts of cheese.  Coo, it was all we could do to finish it.  I liked the gherkins too, but they made me burp later on and he complained about that.

He has written a blog about the organisation of these refuges on his work website It's something to do with Lean processes, but after we finished all that food we weren't feeling lean, quite the opposite. He witters on about how the people who run the refuges have to be very smart and plan to get the food, beer and wine up there on donkey back. Not to mention the gas for cooking.  It's all very clever and he thinks so too.

We were soon finished and try as I might I couldn't get any more out of that beer bottle!

On we went even higher and we rushed on ahead of John. I was able to get my photo taken on he path to the top of the hill at 2120m/6955ft before we dropped about 50m/170ft to the lake, our final destination. If you look beyond John you can just make up the huts of the refuge where we had our lovely lunch.






As were neared the top of the hill I saw this friendly rock so I sat on it and had my photo taken again. Well it looked friendly, but maybe it was the beer that made me feel that way.

I had to be careful where I sat 'cos lots of dirty birds had been there and the rock was quite besmirched, poor thing.

At the lake we had a well earned rest and I decided to go down and maybe think of a paddle.  The water was very cold so I didn't go in.  It's a snow melt lake and there had been some recent snow though you couldn't tell it that day.  We saw  the curious sight of lots and lots of big plump tadpoles swimming in the shallows as we approached.  Imagine seeing tadpoles this late and not in March.  Aren't the hills behind the lake special?  Just beyond them is a dessert desert.  (That's right it's not a creme brûlée it's a dry place where it hardly ever rains and people come from far and wide to see it - though we didn't.) Those hills are the Rocher des Fizz, maybe you have to drink champagne when you climb them.

Then we looked around and saw some snow!!!! "Hooray," I said, "I want to make snowballs." I scampered over there as fast as my wee legs could take me. It was a bit warm really for snow and it was a bit soggy, but I got to sit beside it on a stone to stop my bot getting wet.

So that was about it. We had a lovely little sit down, but soon enough the rucksacks were slung on backs and off we tramped all the way down to the pub at the car park, where we just had time for a quick beer before we headed back into the village for our well deserved dinner.

Until next time, hugs from me,
Jock

I love to go a wandering

Among the mountain tops, and as I go I love to sing (Out of tune, and you're just behind my ear.) Shan't stop, especially after I've had a few beers. You shouldn't leave those bottles around for me to get at, should you? (I don't, you just manage to be in the same place as the bottles.)

ANYWAY, as I was saying, there I was in the Alps where Himself was having a walking holiday with his friend John. Better (very late) than never, here 's the start of the story.

Day 1 - I got left tohind in the apartment.  It was a very nice apartment with a balcony and a lovely view, when you could see the mountings.  He left and went to a place called the Bout du Monde - that's The End of the World to you and me. Anyway he says it was wet - a fine excuse, I think he just forgot to take me.







(It was wettish - honest and we thought it might rain, so I left you behind - sorry.  I got this nice photo though.)  Humph! It is a nice photo but why didn't I get to see it in the fur?









Day 2 - He behaved himself and off we set.  We climbed and climbed and it was quite a hard job for wee legs. (And more for mine since I was carrying you!)

Here I am sitting on a wobbly bridge over a stream. Someone tried to walk over it from the other side and I nearly bounceded off into the water.  It was a near thing, but himself just about managed to save me.

Finally we got there at about lunch time.  I had to leave down my walking poles and have a little rest on top of his rucksack.  (Whose walking poles are those?  Mine I think and you travel in style inside the top box with a space for you to see out.)

Well.... Ok I did ride in the rucksack and it was a very pleasant way to get up high, though sometimes you do swing a body about.





Eventually we reached a place called the Refuge du Folly - wasn't that a funny name.  Here I am sitting on the signpost for the footpaths all around. The refuge is at 1558m - that's nearly 5000ft up in the air.  The day before's rain turned into snow high on the hills behind me.  Isn't it pretty?

Here I am when we went even further up the hill. He was puffing and panting - not fit you know. (Excuse me, but who has the big tummy?  You, I think. But you are right, I'm not as fit as I'd like to be.  It was so nice to be up there in the sunshine so I didn't mind.) John stayed below waiting for us.






When we got down it was TIME FOR LUNCH and a good thing too, 'cos I was getting a trifle peckish. (Not trifle I think.  The French don't understand trifle - mille fueille, iles flotante, creme brûlée, that sort of thing, but not trifle.) Enough rambling get on with it. (The rambling had stopped - it was lunchtime stupid.) Who are you calling stupid? You're the one wittering on, not me.

First I had a little drink 'cos all that riding around in rucksacks is thirsty work.




But then the beer arrived, hooray.  They have these interesting closures on the bottles.  It means that you can swing on them when you've had a few too many. Yippee.















After a couple of bottles it's time to rest.  We had very nice diots de Savoie - herby sausages cooked in a white wine sauce and he had a special 'tater pancake with bacon bits, prunes, apricots and onions called farcement. Super tasty it all was, and it was followed by tarte au myrtilles - blueberry pie, yummy. No wonder I was in need of a zizz.  (Well done for helping me out specially with the beer, though the last bit was what mattered eh?)

You bet!  Himself asked for the bill and it came with a glass of genepi  This is made from Alpine herbs that only grow above 2000m.  It's very tasty indeed, (and very alky too!) and it was all I could do to share mine with himself.  (Ahem, who was sharing?  Me I think.)

But then it was hup we go on his back and down to the valley below. Singing all the while, but then that's where we came in isn't it?



Tune in again soon and catch up with my next adventure.

Jock

I Be'd to the Bearlympics - Hurrah

Well I've be'd to the Bearlympics and met up with Jack and LT.  We had a GREAT day and saw our team win one Gold medal and two Bronzes in four races - whoo that was incredible.  LT and Himself got very noisy at times and Jack and I had to put our paws over our ears. He's been lazy and Jack has beaten me to the net - but I still have the medal so nya, nya, ne nya, nya.  (Behave yourself.)

First we met up with some friends near Londing - I had never met them and the last time LT had seen them she was only wee. (Was she ever?  Oh yes, she was once.) Enough from you, LT is my friend.  Nigel is camera shy, but here we are with Leah and LT.  Leah's holding me up like that so I won't eat her dinner - not fair I say. (You did mange to get your paws into a few sticky sauces so that kept you going didn't it?)  Well yes, I suppose, but a few more bits of your pork might have been nice.  (What do you mean MORE?) Well, you should have paid more attention, you can't expect a hungry bear to sit by your plate and not sneak a mouthful or twenty.

Next morning we had to get up at silly o'clock. The Staff was going to get up at 6.00 but the people in the next room got up even earlier, so he got up at 5.45 and by 6.45 we were on our way.  Everything was very slick - first the car park had no queue and then the bus went from there almost as soon as we got on.  After about 10 minutes we got into the bus park and we had a walk-in of about 1km to the course itself.  The place was called Eton Dorney though I thought it was the Londing Bearlympics (Well yes, it's the London Olympics, but there's not enough room in the middle of London to do sailing, road cycling and rowing, not to mention the football, but given the GB performance there, it's best left unmentioned.) Well that's strange, they should just have knocked down half the city to make sure everything could happen in the right place. Anyway we were at the Eton Dorney Bearlympics and it was fun.





We were with LOTS of big people, and there were lots them helping us. The helpers are called "Games Makers." They had nice uniforms on and they were extra specially helpful. They all have taken time off work to volunteer and they deserve an extra special cheer of their own.

First we met a lady who was shouting, "This is the ROWING event.  If you haven't got tickets for ROWING ON 3rd AUGUST, please turn back because you won't be allowed in."  Now, we all thought, "Why would anyone be so stupid?" But I suppose there must be some.

This nice man was sitting singing to us and showing us his gold medal. He must have been very busy rowing and helping. (It wasn't a real medal, bear, it was chocolate and covered with gold foil. He didn't actually win it.) What! a chocolate gold medal? Wow he must have really, really done well to win a chocolate medal.  That's the best sort.  I 'spect he got his medal for being helpful. (Yes you're probably right.)

He was still there at the end of the day singing,
"If you're happy and you know it,
Stay with me,
If you're happy and you know it,
Please don't go!"

Then he wished us a safe journey.  Wasn't he a very nice man?







Some people were oddly dressed and some had faces with flags painted on them.











Other people wore strange hats.  I wonder if this Dutch man knew he had little orange creatures living on his hat?

This one is the best hat though.  It is a tin hat with a Kiwi on the top, it was almost the nearest thing we saw to a bear.  I hope it had a good view.  (He's from New Zealand and though the Kiwi was cute, the person underneath looked fearsome.)





Soon we were in our seats and for a while everything was quite quiet.  Jack and I got to sit on one seat back and then we had our photo taken with LT - do you like her London 2012 Rowing cap?

We were here to see the racing and the first few events were for the lower ranked scullers. Everyone got a cheer and this is the 33rd and last person in the men's single sculls - he was last in the 'F' final and he got a great big welcome.

There were lots of people to look at on the water and a British Crew in every 'A' final, something that He and LT got quite excited about.  In the race above the Brits were fifth.  The men standing up were from Germany and I think they cheated to win, 'cos you can't stand up in a boat.  (No they won fair and square.  They only stood up afterwards to say,"Well done" to each other. you can't actually scull standing up.)  Oh that's alright then, but what about the men in the white boat - it had an engine on it. They were definitely cheating.  (No they were the umpires, there to make sure nobody cheated or fell in.)  Oh, I see, 'cos there were lots of them and I thought they were cheating, but, because they were always last, no-one noticed.

This was the first race with a British Crew and we were part of what the press were calling either, "The wall of sound," or "The extra person in the boat," supporting the GB crews. It all got quite noisy and shaky.  I hope you saw us on the television, we had fantastic seats very near the finish.  Himself says they cost a packet, but were worth every penny.

Next we were third with a new crew including a young man who could have been rowing at under 23 level.  They weren't expected to win, but they did better than everyone had hoped.

The next race was Kath Grainger and Anna Watkins, and our Staff would have paid just to see this one race.  Kath had won silver medals at the last three Bearlympics and everyone wanted her to win this time (except the Aussies and the Poles and everyone supporting the other crews.)  Well yes, but they were stupid. (That's not very gracious, bear.)  

The wonderful news is that they won and in fine style.   LT and Himself cheered and shouted and stamped and jumped up and down and hollered and yelled and contributed to the mayhem.  It could have been quite scary for little bears but Jack and I felt so proud to be there and to be Beartish (albeit Jack came from the other side of the pond. All bears are Beartish.)  Himself had a wee tear in his eye when they won. 

Here they are after they'd finished - they are the boat at the to of the picture.  Then we got to stand up and sing the national anthem after they got their medals.  It all sounded a bit strange and echoey but we got through it nonetheless.      

Once they'd had their medals awarded Kath and Anna came along and thanked the crowd and showed off their medals. Anna and Kath rowed almost all the way down the course and came past everyone who had cheered for them.

Come to think of it all the other medal holders did too except the Australian Women that Kath and Anna best.  They just turned round and rowed back to the boat house, which was not very gracious. Nobody likes a bad loser.  Anyway we cheered Kath and Anna and they waved at us.  It was all very emotional.

The last race of the day was the men's single sculls and there was a man from Northern Ireland rowing in it.  Well Himself is from there and even LT was born there and they got very excited again.  The sculler's name is Alan Campbell and he won a bronze medal.  His cousin was sitting right in front of us, so she was very excited - but then everyone was - and again there was a lot of stamping and hollering and leaping up and down and getting deafened. After Alan got his medal we waited until he came over and showed it to us and we cheered him all over again.

Before we left it was time for another photo.  Here we are on LT's knee.  you can see that we were quite tired out - definitely wabbit, as they'd say in Scotland.  It's hard work all that jumping up and down and yelling at the top of one's little lungs you know. (Indeed it is and you two did vey well.)

High time to get going for a bit of a snack, but first we had to unwind the journey back to the car.  Again all the volunteers were very cheerful and helpful. On the way we stopped to get our photos taken with the Bearlympic Mascot called Wenlock.  As Jack says this one isn't the real one, we might have met him if we'd been lucky, but he was somewhere else so we had to put up with the purtend one instead.

As I said, all that cheering and leaping made for peckishness and we had a long way to go to get home, about 200 miles and it was already past any sensible bear's lunchtime, so I had the Chauffeur pull off to get something.  (Not to worry wee bear, this "Chauffeur" was kinda peckish too.)

I wasn't too impressed with LT's pink rice and Jack was so unimpressed that he didn't even show up to look.  But we did help Alan with his sushi, 'cos bears like salmon and stuff like that.  Himself commented that if you'd told him when he was a boy that he'd happily sit down in later life to eat raw fish with rice he'd have thought you mad. Silly boy.

Well, that was almost the end of our great big bearventure.  He says we'll not see the Bearlympics again in his lifetime, so it was very very very special.  We tumbled into the car and Jack and I had a good snooze on the way home.  

I hope you enjoyed our day as much as we did.

Hugs,

Jock

Yippee - Off to the Bearlympics

Hi all,

Just a quick post to-day to say that we're all packed and ready to go off to the Bearlympics - though I see from my tickets that some people are calling them the "Olympics" whatever that means. (Sorry bear "Olympics" is correct, but you can call them Bearlympics if you like.) I do and I will. If they were meant to be called Olympics we'd all have to be Irish wouldn't we? (Erm, I am Irish, so it is appropriate  as far as I'm concerned.) Not my fault, I'm Bearish so Bearlympics must be right.

Here I am with my ticket and there's another for Jack, but I don't know what LT and the Hired Help are going to do. (The tickets are for the humans, bears get free entry, isn't that nice.) Smashing I'd say, but proper for a Bearlympics.  Aren't the ticket pretty colours?

Anyway we've packed our bags and I've got my Bearlympic rowing pin badge on a nice red ribbon. In a couple of hours we're off to pick up LT and Jack at the railway station and then a big long drive to near where the rowing will be held.  

Tomorrow we have to get up early to get to the park, but I 'spect  that Jack and I can go on snoozing while the help carry us. LT and Himself will be laden with cameras (and bears) and Jack and I will just go as we are, travelling light as ever.  

We're all ready to roar on Kath Grainger and Anna Watkins in the ladies double sculls and Alan Campbell in the men's singles, and we'll shout at all the others too. I hope I can get a flag to wave.  (Ehm, we'll see shall we?)

I'll tell you all about it when we get back.  Look out for me on the television, I'm sure to feature.

Hugs,

Jock.