A new adventure

Une novelle bêtise

So, there’s a plan…

How many stories have that same beginning, full of hope and heavy with expectations, at the same time both optimistic and fearful

Having walked the Tour du Mont Blanc a couple of years ago with a group of ne’er-do-wells, somebody from the same group (I think it was Rose) thought it would be a good idea to reprise the whole trip - but a little further east. Paying no need to the fact that we’re all older, fatter and not only no wiser but significantly dafter.

And none of us had the courage or the nous to say “are you mad?”

So, this morning I rose at 4.30, caught the first Northern Line tube and found myself, bleary-eyed, at St Pancras, drinking a weak coffee in the crowded departure lounge for the Eurostar to Paris. I was using the first day of a four day Interrail pass to get to Orsières, from where we would be setting off to walk the Tour des Combins over eight days. I had lobbied to extend the walk over a longer period, to increase the chances of my battered and ageing body making it round, but nobody paid a blind bit of attention. Plus ça change…

Everyone was flying except for me and Andrew, my good-looking brother; we were taking the train - or, to be more exact, four trains. And to spice things up, I had a first class interrail pass and Andrew had a normal second class ticket. So, for the purposes of this trip, he was a kind of Schroedinger's brother, simultaneously travelling with me and yet… not. I could have compared us to Jeeves and Wooster, with me taking the role of Bertie, travelling in luxury, while Wooster travelled, with the other manservants, back in third.

The day went smoothly; Paris was reached swiftly - I had barely finished my choice of breakfast before we were pulling in to The Gare du Nord. Andrew had to queue at the buffet car to get a limp sandwich. I reached Paris a little earlier that Andrew, because I was 10 carriages ahead of him.

A mad dash over to Gare de Lyons and we were soon speeding across to Lausanne, me in coach 1 and Andrew in coach 17; and then a half hour before our connection to us on to Martigny, Lac Leman sparkling to our right as we sped through Montreux (no smoke on the water today). And then a smaller train up past the Dents du Midi (scene of previous adventures many years ago) to Orsières.

This trip started, like my earlier Interrail safari to the Balkans, with anxiety about how the Interrail pass would work, trepidation about the potential for missed trains, misfiring apps, but, as last time, it was all peachy. I really do enjoy the trains, the time to watch people as well as the scenery, to feel distance passing.

We grabbed a beer and then a pizza before retiring to our beds by 9.30. It’s hot, so an early start in the morning is advised. We’re supposed to be meeting up with the rest of the group at 11.00 but we’ve decided to make an earlier start; we can take it easy and let them catch us up. Breakfast at 7.30.

The pictures will get better tomorrow, I promise.