People & Thoughts of the GR20

30/09/2021 by Charles Masters in GR20 and tagged corsa, corsica, france, GR20, longdistancewalk, Mountains, tranquility, walk | Leave a comment

As Stephen Called them ‘The Crazy Belgium’s’

It was obvious from the first few kilometres that this walk was going to be ‘challenging’, both with the number of people walking the trail and the trail itself! Stephen and I differ in one fundamental way, he’s a little bit ‘gregarious’ and I’m ‘a miserable old git’. Don’t get me wrong, Stephen doesn’t like crowds either, but people do find him easy to talk to and even before we started, whilst waiting for the Spar shop to open, he managed to engage a young couple by, and I quote, ‘Don’t sit on that or your arse will be white’. Not the most obvious opening line. The young couple involved were Blanche and Quentin who we got to know well, for me it proved that friendship is not in anyway dictated to by age.

The first night cemented that initial friendship as well as with the ‘Crazy Belgium’s’. These were six young venture scouts, confident in the knowledge that they were going to walk the first half of the GR20 and failing to do so, never entered their heads. Young and full of wise cracks, and by the end of the first evening full of beer singing songs to all that would listen, (singing lessons, probably wouldn’t have gone amiss)! Their carefree attitude, I suppose reminded me of my youth, where beer and food were far more important than putting up your camp in daylight! It’s a real shame that age seems to take that away from you and finding that level patch of ground to pitch your tent is just as important, if not more so than beer, these days.

Older people readily complain about how uncourteous and disrespectful young people can be. The ‘Crazy Belgium’s’ proved how unjustifiably, judgemental some of the older generation are. Like Stephen and I, they all walked at different paces, but the slowest was always looked after, they worked as a team, with no apparent animosity. They were respectful to each other and to others and I know that these lads were not in any way exceptions to the rule. They were young carefree adults having fun. Respect has to be earned and works both ways and should never be assumed. They were a pleasure to walk with.

Blanche and Quentin had both taken engineering at university, Blanche had finished her Masters Degree and Quentin had one year left to do. Again I think it was Stephen’s stories, always extremely well told, that cemented the friendship. They were friends spending a holiday together before Quentin went back to University and Blanche…well, she seemed unsure exactly where her immediate future lay. After spending five years, having gained a scholarship in tennis, at a University in the USA I think she wanted to travel before she settled down to a full time job. Other peoples expectations and peer pressure can easily influence your decision at that age, so as I’ve always said ‘do what you want and not what other people expect of you…but do it with consideration to others’.

The pair of them were great company and overall we spent a good few days walking on and off with them. They wanted to finish in 12 days to our 14 so we parted company just before the half way point and loosely arranged to meet after we’d finished.

As we got off the shuttle bus from Conca to Port Vecchio at the end of the walk, there they were waiting for their camp-a-van to be delivered! So we arranged to meet at Page de Mare E Sole to watch the sunset and most importantly eat and drink.

There were many other ‘Monday’ people, as I’ll call them. The reason is the common start date of Monday 6th September and most peoples itinerary are fairly similar, so you’d get to know many of the ‘Monday’ starters, quite well. There was Didia, from Belgium. It was day four when I first spoke to him. He passed me whilst I rested and pleasantries were exchanged. Day four was a slow, steep, bugger of a day and he mentioned that his wife had bought him this trip as a present for his 50th Birthday, which I promptly replied that I thought it was probably grounds for divorce! And he readily agreed! I spent the next couple of days passing him while he rested and him passing me…it was a passing relationship, always with little quips as we wandered on up the trail. On his last day, which was the half way point he sat and had a beer or two with us at the hotel and we found out that his wife always bought him ‘challenging’ presents for his big Birthdays and that he lived next to where the International Sanicole Airshow is held, which just happens to be where I was going to go to take some air to air photographs, before Covid 19 rudely interrupted my plans! Contact me he says, I know someone who organises the Airshow…

Arthur and Edward, were fit, fast and annoyingly very good looking. I’m not normally one to judge men’s looks as I’m probably not a very good judge, but you know how someone like Cindy Crawford is just classically good looking, well so were these two and what was even more annoying they were, (and I hate this word) ‘nice’ people. Edward helped me out with the language barrier a number of times as I believe he was half French and half English and Arthurs English was also perfect, better than many English people I know! I didn’t get to know them well, but they were part of the trail, a trail that would have been very different without their company.

There were a number of other regulars, an Englishman in Berlin, a young Sicilian training to be a lawyer, who had aspirations to be a judge…not sure what the life expectancy for a judge in Sicily is! Six young rugby players who had walked the whole path in seven days, half the time we had! A French couple with her Mother, probably my age, the Mother that is, not the couple, she walked on her own for most of the day, whilst the daughter waited and her partner, I assume waited further on still! There were many others mainly young people who crossed our path with a nod or a bonjour. They were all part of my experience and I hope I was part of theirs.

The path was very much as I expected, the ‘hardest trail in Europe’ as it’s advertised? Probably not, hard, yes, but in a different way than say The Snowman Trek in Bhutan, but I’m pretty sure that there are harder ones in Europe. The path wasn’t controlled as the American National Park paths are, where often a permit is required but the Corsicans very much encouraged trekkers to stay at the designated Refuge’s along the path and wild camping is not tolerated. There’s no real navigation issues as the path is well marked by the white and red painted stripes every few metres. The Refuges were expensive and the meals decidedly average…the beer was good, but at €8 a can, not cheap, In fact it makes London prices look relatively inexpensive!

Looking back the only real disappointment was that you are hand led through the walk, as little or no navigational skills were required and as the Corsican National Park Authority enforces where people stay overnight then maybe they ought to look at improving the accommodation and food. French and Italian Refuge’s are generally excellent with modern facilities. However, if the Park Authority the same excellent facilities found in the Alps, then either provide only the very basics or no facilities at all, which would make the path far more interesting and challenging.

There aren’t many photographs of me…there’s a good reason!

The walk was wonderful, the company was excellent. The mountains though, of course, are the show stoppers, they were why we were there. Maybe the inadequate, power hungry politicians and out spoken journalists of this world need to take a lesson from Nature and how it adapts silently as it tries to show us where our future should lie! On a lighter note…I have to sign off with my favourite part of the trip…

The cake at the end!

GR20 The End

29/09/2021 by Charles Masters in GR20 and tagged corsa, corsica, france, GR20, longdistancewalk, solitude, tranquility, trek, walk | Leave a comment

Day 11 started easily enough, following a track gently upwards, but then climbed steeply to the Refuge de Prati. It’s literally in the middle of nowhere on an Alp looking out towards the sea, in one direction and along the high ridge in the other. Stephen and I stopped for breakfast, a limited affair as the Refuge was running low on supplies. Stephen told me to carry on while he stayed and relaxed for a little longer…my first mistake of the day. The path followed the rocky crest zig zagging from one side to the other then descended easily to Bocca di Laparo. The GR20 then started, what became an infamous climb crossing the ridge after approximately 200 metres of ascent.

The wind hit like a brick wall…a brick wall moving at 65kph. The path climbed up the steep rock walls of Punta Mozza and constantly moved from one side of the summit ridge to the other. The wind is brutal. It isn’t necessarily the strength of the wind, it’s that one side of the ridge is sheltered and the other the wind is blowing a gale. It’s difficult to move between the sheltered side and the wind-wood side, the suddenness buffers you uncontrollably, as you stare down 50 degree bare slabs of rocks on either side.

The path eases and eventually leads downhill to the Refuge d’Usciolu. I arrive at 3pm and find us a place to pitch our tents, it’s going to be another night of fighting against the slope. By 6pm Stephen still hasn’t come in. I’m starting to get a little concerned. 15 minutes later he arrives. This day, frightened Stephen. If the Refuge had been on a road, he’d have left the GR20 at this point…mistake no. two was that I should have stayed with him, or waited for him on the ridge, but hindsight is a wonderful thing. I felt dreadful, he’d genuinely been scared, it wasn’t the terrain it was the weather, the wind. It was at this point that Stephen realised he liked looking at mountains but wasn’t as keen to climb them. However, one thing he does have is determination and he decided to carry on.

Day 12 starts with a steep ascent back onto the ridge and the GR20 cuts along the rugged crest of the Arete a Monda, today, though, there is no wind. The path eventually descends onto easier terrain. I walked onto the Bergeries de Bassetta, whilst Stephen took a dip in one of those beautiful turquoise pools, he probably polluted it as much as I had, but like me felt a lot better for it.

It was lunchtime when Stephen walked into the Bergerie after his bath…I mean swim and as we only had 4 kilometres left to walk, a long lunch was in order. We sat under the dappled light of the tables and ate one of the best Spaghetti Bolognese’s and caramelised apple, I’ve ever tasted, probably influenced by the dehydrated food we’d been eating recently, all washed down with a couple of beers and Cokes.

The last hour was a gentle walk to the Bergerie de Croce and a 3pm finish and a relaxing afternoon…what a difference a day makes!

The Penultimate day, another day when we merged two stages into one. The sting in the tail was the last ascent to just over 2,025 metres. From the crest the view ahead to the Aiguilles de Bavella rocky spires and towers is inspiring, but between us and those towers is a deep valley and our lunch stop.

Stephen taking in the View towards the Aiguilles de Bavella

The guide book describes the descent as one of the worst on the GR20, steep and rocky as it picks its way across the rocky face of Mount Alcudina, but it wasn’t as bad as we anticipated and we reached the Refuge d’Asinau for an early lunch.

Stephen decides to take a slightly longer break and I make my way along the path which clings to the side of the mountain through steep wooded slopes as it rounds the Asian Valley before ascending to the Village de Bavella. As I get close to the Village de Bavella more and more day trippers appear and as I come out of the wood and on to the road at the top of the pass, chaos, hundreds of cars and people everywhere. Then to top it all ‘no camping’. in fact the nearest place to camp is another two hours walk…it’s 4pm and Stephen is a hour behind me, so I know that’s not an option. I plump for a dormitory under a restaurant. When climbing I’m used to sleeping in dormitory style rooms, but it’s always pot luck as to who you have in with you…we were lucky. So for 40 Euros each we got a bed for the night, an evening meal and breakfast and one of the most stunning views of the walk.

The final day. It’s always hard, your ‘get up and go’ has partially gone as your mind is at the end but unfortunately your body isn’t. It’s predominantly a day of descent, with a few small rugged ascents. The ascents seem meaningless and we both ‘will’ the path to descend as we know eventually it must, but the mountains persist and every now and again we get tantalising views of the oh so blue Mediterranean. The path drops into a beautiful enclosed valley, with a very tempting deep turquoise pool, but the pull of the end is stronger and as we ascent out of the steep sided valley the path begins to contours Mount Conca and leads uphill to Bocca d’Usciolu, which is just a narrow cleft between two towering rocks.

On the other side of the notch is the view we’ve been waiting for, in the valley below is the village of Conca and the end of the GR20!

We reach Conca 45 minutes later, no one in Conca is impressed, there are no fanfares, no awaiting medals, but as we come around the corner to the GR20 Bar there are a number of groups who we have got to know along the way, and they cheer and raise their beers as we come into view…better than any fanfare or dancing girls!

GR20 The Middle

28/09/2021 by Charles Masters in GR20 and tagged corsa, corsica, france, GR20, longdistancewalk, mountain, peace, solitude, trail, tranquility, trek, walk | Leave a comment

One of the Twin Lakes of Lac de Capitellu

Day seven and Stephen and I separate as he bypasses another day that the guide book advisers against if you suffer from vertigo. He headed back to Chucky and down the valley, to rejoin me again half way through day eight. Quentin and Blanche had left early as they were combining day eight and day nine, so I wandered slowly up the valley, whilst it steepened and narrowed as it reached the Breche de Capitella at 2.225 metres. It was a time to stop and reflect as my eyes are drawn to a 360 degree view of the highest peaks in Corsica and the deep blue of the still waters and the perfect refection of the surrounding mountains in the Lac de Capitellu just 200 metres below.

The route followed the steep mountain sides, climbing up and down through small gullies. The ridge and the scrambling is a joy to walk, a little exposed in places, which Stephen might have had trouble with, but for me, I was on a high, I loved every minute of it. I was annoyed that the GR20 no longer went through the Cirque de Solitude, which I believe was the jewel in the crown of the trek, but this was me, not too hard, so it scared me shitless, but hard enough to keep me on my toes…and the views, wonderful. Eventually I came to the Bocca Muzzella at 2,206 metres, from here it was downhill to the Refuge de Petra Piana.

Looking Along the Ridge from Breche de Capitella

The Refuge was one of the highest at 1,842 metres, so I was prepared for a cool night. again I was camped on an extended pallet and it was one of the most comfortable nights I had on the whole trek. I was camped next to Arthur and Edward, two guys who had been with us from the beginning, two very English names, Edward had spent the first 22 years of his life in Bolton as his Mother was English but now lived in France, I’m not sure what Arthur’s liniage was, but his English was perfect.

They had originally started out with Arthur’s Father but he took a stumble a couple of days back going head over heal and had hurt his head and leg, therefore decided to retreat home to a cooked meal and warm bath. Edward was very helpful as my grasp of schoolboy French was decidedly worse than when I was a schoolboy! Shameful, really. We were to leapfrog each other for the next few days and his help was invaluable and their stamina made us look like OAP’s!

Day eight was a low-level short day, after a steep descent from the Refuge de Petra Piana the path levelled out following the river along the valley floor through a pine forest, with those wondrous deep turquoise pools.

Eventually I reached the Bergeries de Tolla, a source of Coke, Cafe au Lait, Cheese and Bread…all my dreams had come at once. From here I could contact Stephen, he was on his way and would be with me by mid afternoon. After the Bergerie the path steepened as it made its way through the forest to the Bergeries de L’Onda and our campsite. I reached there just after lunch and Edwards French saved me again, to my embarrassment as he arranged Stephen and my camping pitch and our evening meals.

Stephen was good to his word and arrived at 3pm. It was great to see him again. The campsite was full to overflowing as was the dinning room. In fact it was crowded to the point of being uncomfortable as was the meal itself! I’ve had worse, but not very often, one of the dehydrated meals would have been far more appetising. The night, like a number of the others, was spent fighting a slope, sleep was fitful and my stomach was growling for a steak.

Day nine was, besides the initial climb to the main crest, fairly straight forward and on the way down I managed to get that swim in one of those deep turquoise pools, refreshing, probably polluted the stream, but I felt invigorated and clean! The rest of the walk down to Vizzavona was down a path frequented by swimmers taking advantage of the sunshine and the deep inviting pools. We were no longer on a path that belonged solely to GR20 walkers, we were in the land of the day trippers! People, too many people, the one good thing about that is that we knew we were near our goal and the comfy bed and an à la carte menu. At Vizzavona we were halfway in distance along the GR20, however, time wise we were well over halfway. All the guide books tell us that the walking gets easier from here on in.

To finish in 14 days we needed to double up. So day 10 took in stage 10 and stage 11, together they were a 30 kilometre stage. The GR20 had compelled me to walk at a snails pace, through unrelenting scrambles and climbs. So a walk of 30 kilometres appeared to be a tall order, as it happened a 10 hour tall order. Stephen and I walked together for most of the day and the half way point at Bergeries d’E Capanelle we treated ourselves to a pizza and Stephen a beer and me a latte! The second half was even easier to Refuge di Verdi, probably the best Refuge we stayed at along the whole trail, a level pitch, great food and reasonable showers.

The Early Stages – GR20

20/09/2021 by Charles Masters in GR20 and tagged corsa, corsica, france, GR20, long distance foot path, Mountains, trek, walk | Leave a comment

Day three and the GR20 shows it’s true colours. It was only just over six and a half kilometres long and had only one ascent and one descent, how difficult can that be…extremely, as it happens. Six and a half kilometres took us nearly six hours. I’ve walked slower, but let’s face it a two year old could walk faster! The walk up, though, was exhilarating as the path wound its way up the valley, contouring high under rock pinnacles before zig zagging up a gully onto Bocca Muvrella at 1,920m. The path then criss crosses the summit ridge and then the tortuous descent begins, one that is repeated many times in the following days.

Stephen, though, is on fine form he managed to book two of the ski chalets for us, instead of camping. I have to say a brilliant manoeuvre and one that I was very grateful for. And on reaching our goal, as became the habit, a can of Coke and a large Pietra Ambre was rapidly consumed before anything else was done. A night in a bed, wonderful. For those that shout ‘cheat’, I don’t care, it was worth any amount of abuse that the ‘purest’ camper could throw at us.

Day four, started with a call from Stephen, saying that after sitting on the loo, pondering the guide book, certain words jumped out at him. Stephen, has a fear of exposure and heights and the guide book clearly stated that anyone with either of those fears should think twice about doing the next section. He decided to take the guide books advice and bypassed day four. We met for breakfast and he had a plan to rejoin me at the end of day five at the Hotel Castile de Vergio. All was good

So I started day 4 walking through the forest, on my own, a gentle start, lulling me into a false sense of security. I emerged from the forest to be confronted with a fortress of, what looked like impenetrable pinnacles and sheer rock, that is the valley head and the now closed Cirque de Solitude and the main route now takes the old variant over Pointe des Éboulis. Somehow the initiators of the GR20 had found a route up through the cliffs to the Pointe des Éboulis at 2,607m the highest point of the GR20. I met a Belgian on the way up, we passed each other many times during the day. It appears that his wife bought him this holiday for his 50th birthday,…he thought he probably had grounds for divorce!!! On reaching the Bocca (Col) there is a choice, to divert and summit Monte Cinto, the highest mountain in Corsica. For the first time on the walk the cloud was building and the rain coming in, Corsican thunderstorm. So I decided against the diversion and started my descent to the Refuge.

It’s a long descent over some steeply exposed slabs that Stephen would probably have done his silly walk on, brought on by vertigo! So I think he made the right choice to bypass this day. The descent finished at Refuge de Tighjettu and a welcome smile from Quintin and Blanche. I’ve never set my tent up on a pallet before, but the ground was rocky, uneven and not over suitable for finding a stone free level pitch, so the pallet was very welcome! It had been another long day time wise, but short in distance, with an average speed of 1.4kmph! It was strange not walking with Stephen, I know we walk at different paces, but knowing we wouldn’t meet up for lunch etc. was a little disconcerting.

Quentin asked me if I wanted to walk with them today, which I readily agreed to. As we walked down, within 30 minutes, we passed the Beregeries de Ballone, although very basic looked it was a far better place to camp than the Refuge higher up. Day five of the GR20 was a bit of a stroll in the park compared to the previous days. It was a fairly steep walk up to the Bocca di Foggiale, but easy enough, then a further slight climb up to the Refuge de Ciottulu dib I Mori a very basic and exposed Refuge. The three of us stopped for lunch but were glad that we were moving on to the Hotel Castel Di Vergio.

The View from Refuge de Ciottulu dib I Mori

The descent was one watching and hearing the little waterfalls that plunge into deep turquoise pools. We stopped often and Quentin and Blanche basked on the rocks whilst I took some photographs of the beautiful waterfalls. Blanche was feeling a little under the weather and I think the last couple of kilometres, she would have liked to have wished away.

The Turquoise Pools and Small Waterfalls

We arrived at the Hotel Castel Di Vergio looking forward to that Beer and Coke. Quentin and Blanche had also booked a room, to give Blanche a good nights sleep and time to recover from the dodgy water she had drunk a couple of days ago. Blanche is strong, both physically and mentally and like most women didn’t moan, which I’m sure I would have done, I think! The best thing though was that Stephen walked in to the hotel just fifteen minutes after us.

Day six was a joy, the landscape changed to a more walker friendly terrain, the steep unrelenting rocks had gone and the mountains became friendlier, welcoming the walker and not fighting them every inch of the way! Again we walked a foursome for much of the day. Listening to the younger couple’s aspirations and to Stephens stories, which are always a joy to listen to.

Lunch was a leisurely affair in fact nearly two hours of basking in the sunshine, boots off and eyes closed.

We separated from Quentin and Blanche after lunch as they were going a little further as Stephen was leaving the GR20 main path in the morning to bypass day seven. The Refuge that Quentin and Blanche were staying at was only 45 minutes further but Stephens exit route was easier to get to from a Bergeries de Vaccaghja, that was situated just before the main Refuge. We got to the Bergeries only to find that the Guardian (the Manager) was the most miserable old git ever to have walked this earth, christened Chucky by Stephen…So we walked that extra 45 minutes to the Refuge de Manganu.

GR20 – The Beginning

08/09/2021 by Charles Masters in GR20 and tagged corsica, france, GR20, long distance footpath, scramble, trek, walk | Leave a comment

Stephen recommend I took a taxi from Nice airport to the hotel. The reason being is that the airport is being upgraded and many of the footpaths were closed, making a ten minute walk nearly 40 minutes. You need to know that the hotel was called Novotel Airport Hotel, the clue is in the name, it’s pretty close to the airport. I showed the taxi driver my confirmation email, which had the name and address of the hotel on it and you guessed it, he took me to the wrong Novotel Hotel and charged me €25 for the privilege. So I still ended up walking 15 minutes with two heavy bags in the late evening heat of Nice, to my accommodation.

It’s been three years since I’ve actually seen Stephen but it’s one of those friendship where time is irrelevant. We just started where we left off, with a pint, of course! The next day we wondered aimlessly killing time waiting for the flight to Calvi and the start of the GR20. We spent the evening in Calvi eating pizza and endlessly discussing whether we were carrying too much weight…of course we were, but everything was ‘essential’. Isn’t it funny how a coffee percolator is essential for one person but a camping chair is essential to another. Weight is everything, it’s king. They say you should carry no more than 20% of your body weight, for me that’s 15kg…let me tell you 15kg is heavy when you have 1,200 metres of ascent to do. Stephen’s answer was the right one, the weight will be what it will be, me, I tried to be a little more scientific. In the end we both took our little luxuries, me a chair and camera gear and Stephen his coffee percolator.

On Monday the taxi driver arrived at 08:00 and took us to Spar shop at Calenzana, the start of the GR20. We needed camping gas as, for obvious reasons we weren’t allowed to bring any from the UK or Ireland. There were a number of other people waiting for the Spar shop to open and we all wanted the same thing…we didn’t get in fast enough. They only had two left, apparently because of a no show delivery, something to do with Covid, the ‘go to’ excuse these days, it seems. Not catastrophic as we were told the huts sold them…they were twice the price, and funnily enough, they’d had no problems with deliveries! Stopping a young French woman getting a white bottom from sitting on a recently painted wall was our first encounter of the GR20 camaraderie, Blanche and her friend Quentin.

The biggest navigational issue was getting out of Calenzana, after a bit of head scratching we eventually made our way out of the town and on to the path proper. It became clear very quickly that we were not going to be the only ones on the trail, as a snake of people appeared both in front and behind. Day one was basically 1,450 metres of ascent in 12.5km. That’s a hard first day, made considerably harder by the unrelenting Corsican heat. As all the guide books say ‘a baptism of fire’. So it should have come as no great surprise, it might not have been a surprise to my head but my body thought otherwise. I’m not a big water/liquid drinker, but I realised that the lack of available water enroute and me only carrying 1 1/2 litres, which, in the end, I had to ration, was not going to keep me hydrated. I think this path is going to teach me a few lessons!

I entered the Refuge d’Orto di u Piobbu and camping area around 3:30pm I then spent a hour searching for a flat bit of ground to pitch our tents, none to be found! Back to the water issue. I knew that Stephen would be short of water by now, so at 4:30pm I went back along the trail with two bottles of water, for Stephen. One of which I ended up drinking. The campsite was pretty much full and a level camping spot meant pitching on a 5 degree slope, ‘that’s not very steep’ I can hear you saying. It is when you’re in a sleeping bag made from rip stop nylon. In fact it takes just 1/2 second to slip to the bottom of the tent. Doesn’t make for a happy nights sleep. The campsite was a sprawling encampment of pre erected tents and backpackers own tents, pitched on any vaguely level bit of ground. There were cold showers, cooking facilities, bunkhouse accommodation and toilets, this was the blueprint for nearly all the Refuges in varying degrees of degradation. Not that I’m complaining, but all the French huts and Refuge’s that I’ve used in the past have been immaculate.

Day two started as day one finished, uphill through a forest of birch wood, then dropped over the shoulder into the next valley, where the real climbing began. I left Stephen behind at this point and didn’t see him again until the end of the day. I was a little guilt ridden, in fact I was a lot guilt ridden. Uphill I’m faster than Stephen, on the flat he leaves me standing…but there’s a lot of uphill on this walk! The guide book said the second day was harder than the first. It was harder but in a different way, more scrambling and exposure, but well within Stephen’s capability. The GR20 was beginning to show its true colours, and hinting at what was to come.

I reached the top of the first col, Bocca Piccaia and in front opened up a glorious view of a deep sheer sided valley, interspersed with vertical rock towers and pinnacles. The path traversed the Cirque below, weaving in and out the pinnacles to then run steeply downhill to the Refuge de Carazzo. September is supposed to be a quieter month, but there are a phenomenal number of trekkers. Too many, I don’t expect the mountains to myself but I’m not keen on having to queue to get down a gully or struggle to find a place to sit for lunch where the views are at their best. I know other people have the right to be in the mountains as well…I just don’t want them cluttering up the scenery, when I’m there. Selfish, I know, especially when I’ve been advocating that the countryside is for everyone, recently. It makes for crowded campsites, with the evening meal served in shifts, maybe it’s the ‘miserable old git’ coming out in me? Stephen came in three hours after me…now I really do feel guilty, but he’s chipper. Probably because he’s managed to book us into the skiing chalet for tomorrow!

Walking With Mountains

Walking for enjoyment

Tag Archives: GR20

People & Thoughts of the GR20

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GR20 The End

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GR20 The Middle

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The Early Stages – GR20

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GR20 – The Beginning

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