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★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Italian food, walking, history, knowledgable guide. And great Italian food.
Trails of the Amalfi Coast
This trip was active enough to keep us busy and burn off most of the calories. Our hotel was a family run gem where we ate most meals which were terrific. Pizza making turned out to be a wonderful treat both from a leaning experience and a tasty meal. Flexibility to switch our Pompeii visit from Easter Monday to Easter Sunday worked out perfect so as to avoid the overwhelming crowds. Transfers were timely. Our guide was knowledgeable and enthusiastic. One thing that should be included if possibl e is a visit to Herculaneum perhaps en route from Naples on day one. We had a fantastic time and highly recommend this trip.
By Paul from FORT ANN | 05 April 2016
★ ★ ★ ★
A great way to see the Amalfi coast
Trails of the Amalfi Coast
The walking was great and the visits to Pompeii and Vesuvius were well-planned. Our guide Giovanni was excellent and he coped well with difficult weather conditions, having to change one planned walk completely. The hotel was not brilliant. The meals were a bit hit and miss, sometimes good, sometimes meagre. The evening meal never included any other drink than water. I would expect to have a hot drink offered to complete the meal as there was no other way of obtaining a hot drink at any time ex cept breakfast. Similarly I would have expected a cold drink of some kind to be included in the packed lunches which were supplied.
By Pauline from DERBY | 05 April 2016
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Up the Cols with Dasterdly and Mutley!
Cycle Cheeky Cols of Costa Blanca
The fabulous four met up Saturday evening at the lovely hotel in Altea after smooth transfers from the airport. We hit it off immediately and became firm friends over the next seven days, guided faultlessly by the wonderful, Jose and Angel (aka Dastardly and Mutley). I cycle at around 15mph and found that I struggled at times but the group were tolerant and the skill of the guides allowed us to work at our own pace in safety. The hills and the scenery are stunning, a real challenge to all of us, made even more wonderful by the gorgeous weather and the gobsmackingly smooth roads and respectful car / van drivers.
Accommodation was just right, the hostel in Mellina gave us a taste of the countryside and the villa in Denia gave us back the beautiful coast line that we had started with in Altea. Dasterdly was true to his word, its either up, or down, in fact my Garmin registered 37mph maximum speed, downhill goes without saying! We all made it to the summit of the Col de Rates in our now predictable formation, wonder woman Chloe and Iron man Dave racing to the top followed by a very consistent Neal and then me, grinding it out at the back. We dutifully posted our cards in thee stopomat box and will take our place in the hall of achievers.
Its hard to say what the highlight was, there were so many spectacular moments, one that I will always remember was the look on Dave's face when our food arrived in an amazing restaurant high up in the mountains. Its hard to believe the effect a plate of chicken and chips can have on a ravenous scouser! You just had to be there.
Two of us hired bikes which were excellent quality and value for money. All accommodation had dedicated rooms / space for us to use and safety and security was always ensured. We were catered for at all times, fed and watered whenever we needed it and consulted constantly. They even managed to prize us off the bikes to explore some villages on the way. it is clear that our guides really did want us to have a wonderful holiday and cycling experience.
Each evening we had a briefing, reflecting on the day and planning the next, we all kept thinking it couldn't get any better, but it just did. A massive thanks to Chloe Dave and Neal for being such brilliant companions, and to Jose and Angel for being such fantastic ambassadors for your beautiful country, for feeding us mountains of Paella and couscous, and for generally looking after us so perfectly.
By Helen from WORKSOP | 04 April 2016
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
A beautiful country to trek in.
Oman Adventure Trekking
Oman has some very impressive and beautiful scenery. This KE trip offers a physical challenge at times but doesn't become too technical. Certainly enough to provide a sense of achievement to most folk. The walks are varied and keep your interest from day to day. It pays to have a decent light weight pair of boots and to have made the effort to achieve a reasonable level of fitness beforehand. Packs are light only and weather was great though you need to drink plenty of water. Camp food is b oth generous and tasty. On top of this Hanna was a fun guide who ensured our safety at all times. Throw in some culture, great local food and I thouroughly recommend this holiday.
By Simon from Retford | 04 April 2016
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Amazing Adventure
My husband & I had a wonderful time on this trek. We encountered sunny days, wind and even rain on our last day of our trek. Our guide, Hassan was excellent. He was able to be very nimble in the itinerary to ensure we had a full experience in the Sahara no matter what nature threw at us. We had very strong winds during our trek so we would definitely recommend the use of buffs and head scarves. The solitude of trekking across the dunes and plateaus was thought provoking; it was also exhi larating and awe-inspiring.
By Debra from SPRUCE GROVE | 04 April 2016
★ ★ ★ ★
Awesome scenery and exhausting desert hiking
Red Hot Chile Trekkers - The Atacama Desert

The scenery is spectacular, primarily the multi-coloured desert but also watching the flamingos close up in Laguna Blanca at 16,000 ft.
I found the high altitude desert hiking exhausting, one eight hour, 15 mile day (longer than advertised due to re-routing caused by rain several weeks earlier) without shade being especially challenging.
11 out of 15 strong hikers got up Licancabur, the rest of us chilled out with the flamingos.

By Ian from WESTON | 03 April 2016
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
A great short break, packed with snowy fun.
Northern Lights Snowshoe Safari

Good weather is down to luck; seeing the Northern Lights is down to luck; and we lucked out on both, seeing the Lights 4 out of 5 nights and clear sunny days for 3 out of the 4 days. Even without that, the scenery is stunning and getting off the main trails with snow shoes we hardly saw anyone else, apart from the odd moose. I don't think the trip up to the Sky Station is worth the cost - there are lots of lights up there so it spoils any photography if that's what you're after.

By Alison from Midhurst | 03 April 2016
★ ★ ★ ★
Beautiful scenery, spend some extra time before and after.
Jordan's Dana to Petra Trek
When combined with the Wadi Rum extension and a little time before in Amman this makes a pretty comprehensive Jordan holiday. I spent a couple days in Amman before since the itinerary didn't include that and found that it was worth it. Arriving in Madaba to explore that area before the main group arrived was also a bonus. The Wadi Rum extension was fantastic and floating in the dead sea was a fantastic experience. As far as the walking goes the days were a little longer than I expected but manageable. Some walking up rocky dry river beds can be challenging on the ankles! There are a few spots that require careful steps due to exposure but noting serious. Overall a good holiday, I went in early March but if I were to do it again I might choose late march or early April as some of the nights were too cold to sleep outside or enjoy sitting around the campfire!
By Kenneth from Grand Island | 28 March 2016
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Remarkable adventure even for those with limited ski experience.
Inside the Arctic Circle - Skiing the Kings Trail
I have been a skier for decades. Living in USA (Colorado) I ski quite a bit--alpine, alpine touring, skate skiing, and classic touring. I have done week long trips at backcountry huts in British Columbia and had wild descents off of mountains. But I have never had any experience on skis similar to the tour of Kungsleden (King's trail) I recently finished with KE Adventures.

I had never before skied in a high arctic landscape--wild, mostly above treeline, north of the Arctic Circle, with temperatures moderated somewhat by the Gulf Stream. I had never done a ski trip with dog team support--carrying roughly half our gear, keeping our packs to a reasonable weight (7kg plus or minus). I had never done a ski trip where while at the huts (actually "huts" were groups of buildings, with bunks, kitchens) I went to a sauna followed by rolling in the snow. I had never had a ski trip where the Northern Lights appeared and put on a helluva show one night. Add to that one very competent guide, delightful and witty traveling companions, two of the most charming dog team drivers imaginable, sled dogs so appealing you wanted to stick one (or two) in your checked bags, and you have the makings of a truly magical trip.

If you can snowplow on skis, and are reasonably fit, DO NOT MISS THIS TRIP. It is that amazing.
By Adventure from GOLDEN | 28 March 2016
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
A great trip with excellent leaders
Northern Lights Snowshoe Safari
This was a great trip and it met all my expectations. I wanted to combine dogsledding and seeing the Northern Lights and we did both. The snowshoeing was a new experience as well and this was very good. There were 14 in our group plus 2 leaders, Sara and Johanna. They told us everything we needed to know and were very helpful. You need to be prepared to muck in at the mountain hut as you take it in turns to do all the chores. Two tips for others: (1) practise taking pictures of the night sky bef orehand with your camera. I could not find the right setting and wasted a lot of time when the Northern Lights were visible; (2) the kit list should mention that sun cream should not be water-based as this will freeze on the face! Binoculars can come in handy to spot the wildlife as well.
By Michael from Alveston | 24 March 2016
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
An outstanding winter-break holiday
Peaks and Valleys of Jebel Sirwa - Morocco

Positive points Excellent guide; as a Berber he was able to give us insights into Berber culture Varied, tasty and nourishing food As ever, very well organised Interesting group of people Negative Breakfast at Marrakech Hotel

By Ian from SOUTHAMPTON | 23 March 2016
★ ★ ★ ★
Everything good except the hired skis
Inside the Arctic Circle - Skiing the Kings Trail
Through KE we hired Nordic ski equipment from Abisko station. On the first training day we were not happy with our skis but were told it was our incompetence. On the second day we set off on our six day tour. During the tour we became aware that our hire skis and those hired by the american couple did not perform as well as the personal skis brought by other clients. The hire skis allowed an ascent of an 8% slope only, those with personal gear could ascend up to 25% The hire skis "balled up " with sticky snow on day 3 the personal skis did not. Hire skis would not hold an edge when traversing a steep slope or when snowploughing On day 6 on icy snow the hire skis were uncontrollable, for some on the day we took them off and walked, those on personal skis had much fewer problems. At one point Carole swapped skis with one of our guides. Immediately the found she "could ski again". The hire skis being very poor in comparison with the guides. During the tour we were able to compare our skis with those who had their own THE HIRE SKIS HAD BLUNT STEEL EDGES THE HIRE SKIS HAD WORN DOWN FISH SCALES THE HIRE SKIS GLIDING BASE WAS OLD AND SCRATCHED It is a disgrace the STF is hiring out old worn out equipment to clients doing this serious ski tour. We had level 1 serious weather alerts for 4 of the six days we were out, your skis gave us a hard time. We understand the american couple, Tom and Lori will be in touch with you eventually with the same concerns. I welcome your comments on this. PLEASE TREAT THIS AS A SERIOUS COMPLAINT. More than that I would welcome a statement that Abisko Station had updated it's skis to state of the art and that they were maintained to professional standards. So that others are not so affected. Rick Newcombe, Carole Becker.
By Carole from Frodsham | 23 March 2016

KE Adventure reply

Thank you for your review. We are sorry to hear you had some problems skiing during your holiday. We have never previously received a complaint about the hire skis from Abisko. The Abisko Mountain Station is the Swedish Tourist Association's 'centre of excellence' for cross country skiing. It has a very strict policy on the maintenance of its hire equipment. All skis are inspected and waxed after every use and no skis are older than 3 years, with the majority between 0 and 2 years old. Following your complaint our agent in Sweden has inspected the skis at Abisko and we have set up a new monitor alert to notify us of any complaints from other users of their equipment. Thank you once again for bringing this matter to our attention. Feedback such as yours is invaluable in ensuring that the service we offer to our clients is the best it can be. We hope that this issue, together with the very challenging weather you encountered, has not deterred you from future cross-country ski trips.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Amazing Trip
Everest Base Camp Trek
<p>After doing a lot of research into companies that provided treks to Everest Base Camp we eventually chose KE Adventure as it offered exactly what we were looking for in terms of services provided. The clincher was the fact that, whilst not the cheapest on the market, it did include all food and refreshments for the duration of the whole trip and not just the trek itself. In retrospect this was a great decision as it made it a lot easier for our guides but also saved us a lot of hassle t hat would have been involved in paying separately, sorting out bills, tipping etc. All this was dealt with by our excellent guides Bala and Tschiring. These guys were absolutely brilliant and could not do enough to ensure our trek was as comfortable, easy and enjoyable as possible. I could go on but suffice to say if you could find better guides than these guys I'd be very surprised. In terms of costs the whole trip was great value. The hotel we used in Kathmandu (The Yak and Yeti) was top quality and in a great location. We had a half day (which actually lasted 5 hours) tour of Kathmandu included and all transfers from and to the airport even though we had booked our own flights. We were on the same flights as another couple of people on the trek though they had booked flights via KE Adventure. Chatting to them it seemed as though they had got the flights cheaper than us so I'd advise you to check out this option and not, as I did , automatically assume you could get them cheaper. The trek itself was well paced and arrangements were sensibly flexible. As our group had acclimatised well we were able to reach Base Camp a day early and consequently have a more relaxed and enjoyable descent. We descended a slightly different way to the ascent which added to the variety of scenery. The section from Pherice to Phortse (done on the descent) was stunning. Facilities on the trek were good and accommodation variable. Conditions got more challenging the higher you went but that was part of the enjoyment. All in all an amazing trip. I would highly recommend this to anyone considering Everest Base Camp.</p>
By Martyn from WAKEFIELD | 22 March 2016
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
An amasing trip exploring urban and rural sites of Northern Vietnam & Cambodia
North Vietnam and the Temples of Angkor
This was a great trip that was well paced and included a fantastic mix of tourist sites and physical activities. It was amasing to absorb the bustling character of the old quarter in Hanoi and eat the great street food. The cycling and sampan boat trips in Tam Coc were a great way to explore this area. The overnight cruise around Halong Bay with its stunning scenery was fantastic. We had our own boat that was very comfortable and ate some lovely seafood, and even got to canoe and swim. The templ es around Siem Reap were awesome and a couple of short treks to stone carvings were nice way to see more of rural Cambodia. But my highlight ..... was the 4 days trekking and the homestays in North Vietnam. It was fantastic to see the rural way of life that was mainly based around farming and working the paddy fields. The homestays were basic but more than comfortable and we were welcomed in each one by the families. Our leaders were great with lots of knowledgeable, enthusiastic and spoke English very well. The support and information from the office whilst booking was excellent.
By Michelle from Newcastle-under-Lyme | 20 March 2016
★ ★ ★
Not as good as we hoped
Aconcagua Ascent
First of all from the administration side the trip was as other KE trips we did - great. Sometimes things were late or on 'Argentinian' time, which is expected, especially in South America, but... ... climbing a whimsical mountain, such as Aconcagua, requires more than good organization and blindly following the plan: it also requires a good group and committed guides - guides who make the best to help us realize our dream and I'm sorry to say, we were let down in this respect. If you are fit and lucky i.e. the weather window overlap with the trip plan, you will make it, but we were challenged by the weather - we spent a few days in Plaza de Mulas in perfect weather, we did an acclimatization walk and passed medical examinations when we found out that according to the weather forecast in 4 days time the weather changes. What do you do? According to the guides: you follow the plan, as 'the weather forecast might be wrong', so... they were completely ignored. And the weather did change and we didn't even have a shot at the summit... Another area where our guides let us know is safety. Due to weather conditions we had to come down from camp II - at this point three people were feeling bad - and we were going down with just one guide who had serious problem with eyesight - we made it helping each other. Other hints: * Think ahead about breakfasts, as above Plaza de Mulas the choice is very poor - most people had just a few biscuits for breakfast... * Take some money for porters. We didn't fancy carrying 4kg of food each, so we sent it straight to camp II. * Do not take GBP!
By Pawel from LONDON | 19 March 2016

KE Adventure reply

Thank you for your review and we are sorry that you were unable to summit Aconcagua due to the storm. Although any climb can be affected by bad weather, the storm during your trip was unusually intense, even leading to the closure of the main road between Chile and Argentina! Careful acclimatisation is the key to climbing extreme high altitude peaks such as Aconcagua and accelerating the programme can have very serious consequences to health, so this was not an option. We have contingency days which allow for periods of bad weather but unfortunately during your trip, the forecast storm was of such an intensity that the park rangers ordered all groups to descend to base camp. On your descent from Camp II you were accompanied by an experienced IFMGA qualified high mountain guide and later joined by an experienced and qualified KE staff member. The two other guides remained at Camp II taking down the camp in very challenging conditions before they were able to descend and re-join the group. We like your tips for prospective Aconcagua climbers which are very useful. Before leaving base camp (Plaza de Mulas) group members prepare their own bag of breakfast supplies from cereal, porridge, biscuits, dried milk and a variety of teas, and coffee. Also, although we provide porters to carry the group equipment it is possible to hire more porters to carry personal equipment.

Saigon to Hanoi Cycling
Cycle Saigon to Hanoi - Private Faucher
We had a great bike trip from Saigon to Hanoi in January, 2016.&nbsp;&nbsp; It started with New Year's Eve fireworks in Saigon and finished in Halong Bay.&nbsp;&nbsp; Read about the rest of trip at <a target="_blank" href="http://mrfaucher.blogspot.com/2016/01/vietnam-looking-to-future.html%20http://mrfaucher.blogspot.com/2016/01/where-dragon-descends-into-sea.html">http://mrfaucher.blogspot.com/2016/01/vietnam-looking-to-future.html http://mrfauche r.blogspot.com/2016/01/where-dragon-descends-into-sea.html</a>.
By Marc from South Burlington | 19 March 2016
★ ★ ★ ★
A very good walking holiday
Viva Gran Canaria

We enjoyed all the walks, although the last half day walk was a bit of an anti-climax after what had gone before. The hotels were fine, although it would have been nicer to be in smaller hotels. We were very impressed with the island and would certainly consider going back.

By Aileen from NAIRN | 17 March 2016
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Six peaks in six days in the Bernese Oberland of Switzerland
Bernese Oberland Haute Route - West
Six days, six peaks.
A hike across the Western Bernese Oberland Haute Route, Switzerland.

The train journey Geneva to Aigle was straightforward enough but how to get to the small halt that was Plan Morier? However, having met Howard and Cliff at Aigle station, identifiable to each other by our bright red KE kit bags, we worked out the dilemma together. Listening to their trekking tales, I knew our trip across the Bernese Oberland was going to be extraordinary. As the team assembled at the Mon Séjour Guesthouse I realised I’d brought the wrong boots, but our guide Kathy solved the problem by plucking a pair of crampons that would fit from her big bag of spare kit for wallies. The pizza was exceptional and most of us enjoyed our first and last shower of the week. Under Kathy’s keen eye, we edited down our kit to portable proportions, and saw for the first time Simon’s dark blue underpants as he packed and re-packed his bag.

From the top cable car station on the Sex Rouge (2,940m) we embarked on our first test on the glacier, which we failed spectacularly, tumbling down a snow slope in disarray, with Simon and Kathy anchoring the rope at the top and me, nearly dragged over trying to photograph the mostly prone trekkers below. But with Kathy’s instruction, we mastered a safe and steady routine and were soon abreast our first summit, Diablerets at 3,209m, gaping at the expansive view of the Matterhorn all the way round to Mont Blanc.

Our world contracted however when we saw the sleeping accommodation at the Cabane de Prarochet, where we would lie shoulder-to-shoulder on a large shelf. But as mountain huts go it wasn’t bad, and copious amounts of soup, cooked ham, rice and courgettes made up for first impressions, until we discovered the price of a bottle of water at 11 Euros.

The second summit was Arpelistock at 3,035m, reached by plodding slowly up a steep and slippery shale ridge, eating our sandwiches at the top as the reward. What was more difficult was the rocky and long descent into the Furggetali Valley, made bearable by the beautiful waterfalls and, once in sight, the inviting red umbrellas of the Gelten Hut. Cold beer and hot water, in that order. Simon and I sunbathed feet up in deckchairs on the terrace, the only minor disturbance to this alpine paradise being an enthusiastic Swiss builder, pipe in mouth, digging foundations for an extension by driving a mechanical jump hammer.

‘Poles away, ice axes out, harness and crampons on,’ Kathy announced as we reached the edge of the Gelten Glacier after a long climb back up the valley to a point above the large waterfall. Roped up in a single line, we set off at an unrelenting pace up and across the deeply rippled surface of the ice. It was an effort to maintain our footing as well as keep the rope between us at the right tension; not so loose that we trod on it but not so tight that we dragged each other along. As the slope steepened, Kathy cut steps with her axe and we made our way up to a rocky ridge and eventually onto the exposed summit of Geltenhorn at 3,065m. While we huddled together for safety, Kathy nimbly pirouetted on the narrow ridge, photographing us, ignoring the steep drops on both sides.

It was a long way across the glacier past the Col du Brochet and then a further descent of a rock-strewn slope into the Grand Gouilles Valley. Contemplating Kathy’s suggestion to call in a second guide to help us with the following day’s challenge, Sarah centred in on the key criterion; ‘Will he be good looking?’ Such frivolity was soon forgotten though as we zig-zagged our way slowly up the steep mountainside to the Col des Audannes. Sapped by the climb we arrived at the fixed (a relative term) ropes and ladders. When you think ‘Swiss’, what comes to mind are precision watches, efficient knifes, and trains that run exactly to time. So to clamber up a frayed rope (all of us heaving on it with Judith swinging like a pendulum at the end), then traverse a cliff face gripping wire that was definitely not firmly fixed to the rock was a scary surprise. After a series of ladders, the col behind us, it was long hike over the honey-brown dolomites, Judith explaining the complex geology on the way, to the shiny new Cabane des Audannes.

The sleeping accommodation here was arranged as cosy compartments, which were peacefully quiet once Kathy had traumatised the children next door to silence. The carnivores amongst us enjoyed the big chunks of meat for dinner, whilst Judith had to make do with an egg on a pile of palanta, and four bowls of soup.

5am. It was tense at breakfast as we contemplated the big day ahead, at the same time trying to digest bread and jam, and drink copious amounts of tea when all you really wanted to do was go back to sleep. Hard work followed: a steep ascent to the Col des Eaux Froides (2,640m). An hour of scrambling across limestone slabs like giant paving stones. The steady plod up the glacier, Kathy maintaining the same pace whatever the gradient. This was all quite taxing but what really pushed up the heart rate was the traverse across the rocky ridge to the Wildhorn summit at 3,247m. The reward was the most amazing panorama – we just sat for a few moments to take it in, munching on Simon’s elderflower flavoured chocolate.

‘We’ll go down a different way,’ Kathy said, pointing along the ridge. Simon and I exchanged worried glances, unable to see any descent that looked humanly possible in that direction. Heart rate up again. But Kathy expertly guided our descent, anchoring the rope at the top, and we were soon stomping through the ‘Valley of the Rocks’, across snow patches and a boulder-strewn landscape. At the foot of the valley was Lake Tenchet, where Simon’s dark blue underpants reappeared as he led a swimming party in the glacial waters. Unsurprisingly, it was insanely cold but oddly invigorating, or perhaps that was just the effect of the underpants.

After a pleasant hike along the Plan des Roses valley, the big day ended with a big ascent; a 400m climb up to the Wildstrubel Hut, tantalisingly perched on a promontory just below the secret but blindingly obvious Swiss Army camp. Simon charged up the final, steepest section in a record 26 minutes. Nick, with his long stride and strong pedal-pushing legs, wasn’t far behind. But most memorable was the strong finish by Howard, drawn almost to sprint the last few metres by a half litre of cold beer. We cleaned out the hut of cake so that they had to bake more. Then Sarah cleaned us out playing cards. That night on the 4 up/4 down shelf-beds, no one cared about the not-quite synchronised snoring; totally knackered, everyone slept deeply.

Distances on the Glacier de la Plaine Morte (Plain of Death) are deceptive and it took over an hour at a constant pace to cross the vast 4km expanse of ice. At times it literally felt like ‘walking on thin ice’. As Nick and I conversed about cycling tours, I fell knee deep into a crevasse, for once glad I was safely clipped onto the rope. It was the first but not the last time I fell that day.

Two summits followed: a steep climb up to the Wildstrubel at 3,242m, where Simon and I staged a video shoot, followed by a stomp down, across and up the Wildstrubel Glacier (which turned out to be more difficult than it looked) to the Mittlerer Gipfel, also at 3,242m. This, our sixth and last summit, was made memorable by a half-naked German appearing in all our team photos.
Descending the far side of the Wildstrubel Glacier was at the same time exhilarating and frightening, with Judith bravely picking out the way, closely followed by Clive whose confident tread showed us he’d done this before. When we reached the moraine, I summersaulted out of sheer joy – in reality, I’d lost my footing and rolled to avoid spraining an ankle, Howard mistaking it for an SAS manoeuvre – if only!

The red shutters of the Lammeren Hut were a much needed psychological boost that helped us finish the journey. Simon and I swam in the snow-encrusted lake and had to don fleeces and woolly hats to warm up again afterwards. Howard apparently spotted a marmot popping out of its hole playing a flute, but he had been drinking beers since we’d arrived. Double helpings of potatoes for dinner completed a perfect day.

Without any summits left to conquer, the last day’s challenge as we descended from the mountain heights became one of eating: apricot tart at Schwarenbach, ice cream at Sunnbüel, and rösti (roast potatoes and bacon) in pretty Kandersteg, with the promise of more at dinner to replenish all those calories burnt on the way. And to enjoy the friendships forged as we slogged and sweated together crossing the glaciers and climbing the peaks of the Swiss Oberland.

Peter Curran. July, 2013
By Peter from GUILDFORD | 15 March 2016
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Fantastic trekking and climbing in the High Cordillera Real of Bolivia
Bolivia Climber
PEQUEÑO ALPAMAYO AND BEYOND Trekking and climbing in Bolivia´s high Cordillera Real Copacabana on Lake Titicaca By the shore of Lake Titicaca, we questioned KE´s terminology of the trekking and climbing ordeal we were about to put ourselves through as a ´holiday`; Gordon, a Scot from Fife, suggested that adventure-sadism might be a more accurate description. Pedro, an economist from Madrid had trekked Peru and the Pyrenees; Gavin and Ellen had hiked in the Alps and India; George from the Lak e District had summited Mt Tukbul in Morocco; Andrew from Winchester had trekked in Bhutan and Madagascar; and Stuart had already climbed several Bolivian peaks. Most of us had trekked or climbed in the Himalayas. Yet here we were again, ready for more, able somehow to deselect from the memory bank those painful hours of physical and mental exertion and only recall the few moments of glory on the top. But those first few days did feel like a holiday, since from La Paz we went straight to Lake Titicaca for some acclimatisation hikes, it being at an oxygen-sapping 3,800m. We took the boat to the enchanting Isla del Sol, where we stayed in delightful round-houses, hiked across the island to visit the Palacio del Inca (a labyrinth), an Inca sacrificial site (the Mesa Ceremónica – Ceremonial Table), and the Titi Khar’ka (the rock of the Puma – you needed a good imagination to pick out). We climbed the Inca steps (Escalera del Inca) and tasted the fresh spring water from the Fuente del Inca at its top, then at Pilko Kaina by some other Inca ruins, enjoyed a fried trout lunch. Back in Copacabana, we were spoilt in the Rosario Hotel´s lake-view rooms and frequented Café London for good coffee. Copacabana is a picturesque lakeside town filled with a strange mix of people: Bolivian holiday makers, Peruvian pilgrims (the border is close and there´s an important cathedral and shrine in the town), money-less backpackers, hairy hippies selling trinkets and strumming guitars, and grizzled trekkers like us. We managed to climb three tops at around 4,000m (which sounds impressive but actually they were not far up from the lake) including Cerra Calvario (Calvary Hill) with its 14 stations of the cross, and Niño Calvario (Little Calvary) with its strangely deformed rock formations and the Horca del Inca, an ancient rock gateway that served as an astronomical observatory. Particular highlights were eating llama steak (really tender meat somewhere between beef and lamb), visiting the Kon-Tiki museum and meeting one of the Bolivians who helped Norwegian explorer Thor Heyerdahl build the reed boats, and for some of the team, having a swim (well, quick dip) in the cold lake just to say they´d done it. The road to Pequeño Alpamaya From the attractive rooms and clean sheets of a pleasant hotel, it was into the mountains to the dusty discomfort of tents, warm during the day but freezing once the sun had set. We started at Khotia Lake (4,420m) and trekked for three days amidst the amazing scenery of the Cordillera Real, a huge mountain range with multiple peaks above 5,000 and 6,000m. As llamas, alpacas and sheep grazed on the grassy slopes, we made our way over a pass at 4,780m, found an old tin mine shaft (a sole miner with a pick axe over his shoulder waved ‘Buenos días’) and stayed at a partly constructed refugio (mountain hut) on Ajwani Lake, where we slept on the floor in empty rooms, although the electricity (powered by hydro from a nearby stream) did come on in the evening. Our first real ascent was to a so-called viewpoint near Milluni Peak, but to my mind it was our first summit – you had to climb hard to get on top of it, and it was over 4,900m (almost as high as Mount Kenya), so to all intents and purposes, a peak, named by me ´Pico La Vista´. We crossed the Janchallani Pass (4,943m) and then Gordon led us in a charge down a 200m scree slope that took us to Jurikhota Lake, where we camped outside the refugio. The views across the water towards Conderiri were picture perfect. It was a steady climb up towards the Apacheta Pass at 5,150m, with some scrambling on the way. Another peak beckoned, that of Apacheta (also called Pico Austria) above the pass at 5,324m. Not yet fully acclimatised at this altitude, it was a breathless plod as Ellen led us up onto the rocky summit that yielded splendid views of the Condoriri peaks and much of the Cordillera Real, including one of our targets, Huayna Potosi. We took lunch down from the pass (out of the wind) in a clearing with some standing stones reminiscent of the sacrificial site we´d seen on Isla del Sol. A campsite by Chairkhota Lake would be home for the next three nights, and our base for the attempt on Pequeño Alpamayo. ´Where´s Pedro?´ Ellen asked. It was past 3.30am and we were breakfasted and ready in our warm clothes, harnesses and mountain boots. Pedro soon appeared, having expected to be roused with Ricardo´s wake-up tea; not that morning, not the day we would climb Pequeño Alpamayo. The atmosphere was tense, part excitement as we were about to climb one of the three big peaks of the trip, part worry about the task: the effort it would involve, the technical challenges, the cold. We set off in the dark, the way lit by bobbing head torches. The glacier seemed to have retreated further since our training session on it the day before. On arrival at the glacier´s toe, we strapped on our crampons, and Gavin and I checked each other’s kit. Roped together in threes and fours, we set off. I´d been dreading the first part, a steep section up and across rugged ´penitentes´, wind-blown ice structures like sharp frozen waves that are awkward to clamber over. But this soon done we moved on to a smoother glacial surface and with two hours of puffing, arrived at the pass. Whilst most of us were now acclimatising reasonably well, it´s different once you are on snow and ice because you are wearing more layers of clothing to keep warm, and have the added weight of mountain boots and crampons, harness and climbing attachments, and ice axe. Stuart, having shown us his skills on the glacier the day before, was still suffering from nausea and headaches, and decided to return to camp (he later returned La Paz, and then reduced his altitude significantly by touring Bolivia’s Amazon rain forest instead). We continued up the snow dome to the first peak of the day, Tarija at 5,360m. There was a narrow exposed ridge onto the peak itself that I stepped gingerly up and across, then worried for the rest of the morning about having to descend it later. Our lead guide, Juan asked each person in turn how they were feeling to decide who would go on to attempt Pequeño Alpamayo (5,435m), now in full view from where we sat guzzling water and eating snacks. Ellen and George, tired and cold, decided to make Tarija their summit for the day. I´d glanced across at Pequeño, with its impossibly steep snow slopes and exposed ridges and wondered how I´d get up there, but when Juan said, ´And you, Peter?´ I responded, ´I´m good´, then ate a KitKat to avoid looking at the next challenge. The first part of this particular challenge was to descend 130m of Tarija´s rocky north face to the saddle in between the two peaks, in crampons. I was just glad Juan and Andrew were above me anchoring the rope as I slid and scraped and scrambled my way down. The good news was that there was enough hard snow to step our way up the steep face of Pequeño (when it´s all ice it´s a matter of putting in ice screws, fixing ropes, and toe-pointing with your crampons and ice axe up each section, as we´d practised on the glacier – it´s exhausting). The bad news was that the ascent was at 40 degrees, steepening to 50 degrees in places. It was gut-busting work, all the while trying not to look down the exposed slope to the right. On finally arriving at the summit, Andrew said, ´That´s the most difficult thing I´ve ever done.´ I said, ´It was tough,´ too breathless to comment further. We joined the others to eat sandwiches, take photos, and celebrate our success. The journey down aided by gravity was easier, except having to climb back up to the top of Tarija and then negotiate the narrow ridge, but all went well and we were soon stepping off the glacier and making our way back to the campsite, tired by happy. I said, ´It´s surprising what you can put your body through in a morning.´ (It was not yet one o´clock). Gordon responded, ´I may go for a wee walk around the lake this afternoon.´ But that day he didn´t. We devoured lunch (prepared by Nemesio, who amazingly had provided us breakfast, accompanied us to the glacier, returned to camp with Stuart, caught us up, and climbed both peaks) then sorted kit, washed socks and slept. At dinner, after first helpings Ricardo asked George, ´Do you want some more?´ which by this stage of the expedition was a completely rhetorical question. Ricardo then went on to skillfully deliver the next installment of Bolivia´s turbulent and tortuous political history. My guide book (published in 2007) said there had been 192 governments since independence in 1825 (that´s more than one a year). The Presidential Palace is called the ´Burned Palace´ (Palacio Quemado) because it was fired in 1875, and at least two presidents have been strung up outside it in Plaza Murillo (were independence champion Murillo himself was also hanged). So being President is not a role to aspire to if you want job security or the enjoyment of old age. But despite Bolivia´s political woes, its deep regret over losing its access to the sea during a war with Chile, and the loss of other territory due to the predatory actions of surrounding states, it is a country with amazing natural resources and lots of opportunities. With people like Juan and Ricardo using their skills and unleashing the potential of others, it can have a bright future. The next morning Ricardo made his usual round with the wake-up tea. Pedro asked, ´Quando es el desayuno?’ (‘When´s breakfast?’). ´7.30´ answered Ricardo. Pedro looked at his watch; ´But it´s 7.27 now,´ he said. ´Well 7.30 ish,´ Ricardo responded. We breakfasted at 8.30, in keeping with Bolivian flexible time. Huayna Potosi or bust Following the euphoria of conquering Pequeño Alpamayo, it was straight on to the base camp for Huayna Potosi, an imposing 6,088m peak only 17km from La Paz. Seeing it up close was somewhat daunting and I wondered whether I had the legs for it. Here we stayed in refugios at the base camp (4,800m) and then at the high camp (5,270m). At base camp, we shared the warm attic room with another group, laying our sleeping bags on top of mattresses on the floor. The main danger was having to navigate the steep steps that emerged from a hole in the floor and trying not to bang your head on a low beam just above them. The following day it was a steep couple of hours of ascent on rock to the high camp, hauling ourselves up on fixed ropes across one section. The refugio there had a transparent plastic roof and went from sauna when the sun was out to freezer when it set, so that night we had to wrap up warm in the bunk beds. But sleep didn’t last long since wake up time was 1.30am and, breakfast over and kitted up, we were on the glacier by 3.15am. Five of us set off (Gavin had succumbed to a fever and stayed at base camp and Ellen had returned to join him). The route comprised some gently sloping, well-trod paths, several very steep sections, an icy wall (the foot of a crevasse, where with the help of a fixed rope and ice axe we heaved our way up), and a ridge onto the summit. At around 5,800m George, suffering from breathlessness and lightheadedness, decided to descend with guide Pango. The lights of El Alto and La Paz twinkled far below. It was very cold so the burgeoning sunrise at around 6am, spreading its blue-orange warmth was welcome, as was our first view of the top, now just a steep zig and then zag away – despite the strenuousness of the climb, I now knew we would make it. Earlier climbers were descending, making way for us as we plodded slowly but steadily, guide Uve in the lead, nearer the goal. There were breathtaking drops down both sides of a short ridge leading to the summit. Gordon and Pedro had arrived at the top 15 minutes earlier with guide Iri. Andrew and I stood with them for a team photo, all of us trying not stumble off the edge, and suddenly all the hard work on the way up seemed worth it as we gawped at the amazing views of the Cordillera and wallowed just for a few moments in our achievement. On the way down we avoided the icy wall by detouring over a long whale-back ridge with a steep drop down one side and were back at high camp by 9.30am, tired, hungry and dehydrated. But it´s surprising what hot tea and a bite of lunch can do and we were soon striding down to base camp, knowing that a well-earned day off with clean sheets and a shower awaited us in La Paz. Illimani and the battle against the elements While Gavin and Ellen returned to Huayna Potosi, four of us (Pedro, Gordon, Andrew and I) set off for Illimani. The road to the village of Pinaya (where the road stops) was like a theme park ride of ups and downs and sheer drops except instead of three minutes it lasted for three hours. In our 4x4 we descended into valleys and rose over passes, crossed rivers and negotiated multiple switch-backs, and of course the Bolivians don’t believe in crash barriers so you live on the edge, quite literally. Panaya reminded me of the place that Paul Newman and Robert Redford turned up in the film ‘Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid’: nearly deserted except for a few pigs and a tame lamb, a football pitch that someone had built a house in the middle of, poor looking adobe brick cottages with straw roofs, and a tiny crumbling church with a single bell. However, its people were friendly and, as we were to find out, strong and resilient - a family of porters (father, wife, son and daughter) carried our kit up and down the mountain in wellington boots (the men) and open-toed sandals (the women). It took a couple of hours to hike up to the base camp at 4,500m, where the loo was a hole in the ground surrounded on three sides by waist-high walls made of peat turfs. The weather was good as the next day we moved up the mountain, following a rocky ridge higher and higher for five hours to high camp at 5, 500m. The views of the heavily glaciated mountain were stunning and the route up to the summit (1,000m higher) clear but scary (steep and exposed), made worse by the warning collection of crosses at the foot of the glacier. But the four of us were in good physical shape and cautiously optimistic about the forthcoming climb, albeit a little concerned about the technical challenges. The sun went down and we huddled in our tents, ready for the 2.30am start. But then everything changed. The wind battered the tents for hours so we didn´t sleep (30km/hr where we were which meant probably 60km/hr on the summit). It began to snow. By 1.30am the guides informed us the weather was too bad to go up. At 4.30am there was the slim hope of ascent as the wind had dropped, so we donned our gear. But by 6.30am, as the wind and snow intensified, we crowded into the mess tent to hear Uve’s decision that it was too dangerous. So the dream of summiting Illimani was over. But we still had to get down. The weather was now so bad that we could no longer see far up or down the mountain. The snow had made the ridge we´d climbed the previous day treacherous so that what should have taken us two hours to descend took five hours, in one place the guides having to fix ropes for us to abseil down because it was too steep and slippery to climb. Eventually reaching the village we set up camp intending leave early the next morning. But the snow had followed us. Our 4x4 from La Paz couldn´t make it through due the slippery, snow-mud on the road and a landslide on route. So we took a local Toyota van/taxi with poor steering without 4 wheel drive and set off on another route to rendezvous with our own vehicles at the village of Tawapalka. The van was fully loaded inside and on top with all our gear and tents plus 11 people. It was an hour and a half of white knuckle ride as the van slid and ground its way up and down mountain roads with 1000m+ drops on one side or the other. I told our cook Nemesio, ´Tengo miedo´ (I´m afraid). He responded with a broad grin, ´No problema.´ We stopped several hundred metres above the village, ostensibly to take photos and stretch our legs, but for us Westerners, it was less a comfort break and more a fear break. Once in the village, we followed the Rio La Paz along its gentle well cultivated valley back to the Rey Palace Hotel in the city, where the staff had become accustomed to the return, like bad pennies, of their dirty, weather-beaten, and unshaven guests seeking some home comforts after yet another mountain experience. Hot showers and good food in La Paz La Paz is nestled within a deep valley at around 3,660m with steep, rocky canyon-like sides, where the deeper you go, the better the housing. The smart main street, El Prado, with its statues, colourful shops, office blocks, restaurants and coffee shops (including our favourite, Café Urbano) stretches from Plaza del Estudante (near our hotel) to the sixteenth century Iglesia San Francisco (church of San Francisco) at its northern end. It’s busy with traffic which makes way for youth bands from churches or schools with their drums, trumpets and bell lyres. Nearby is the Presidential Palace on Plaza Pedro D Murillo (Murillo Square), next to the tomb of one of its early presidents, and the cathedral, all currently heavily guarded by well-padded police due to demonstrating miners. The best views of the city (including mountainous backdrops of Huayna Potosi and Illimani) are on the slick, modern Teleférico (cable car) that links La Paz to El Alto, the city that starts on the top rim of the valley at 4,150m and sprawls across the Altiplano (high plain), and is host to the airport. El Alto is a grim, poor, red brick, place with many of its buildings only half built (to avoid paying tax), punctuated by white church spires built by a German priest. Many areas are not adequately policed, so there are dummies strung up by the neck on lamp posts as a warning to would-be thieves of the local vigilante justice. We photographed the llama fetuses (which are buried under houses for good luck) for sale in the Marcado de Hechicería (Witches’ Market) on Calle Linares, joking about what would happen if you attempted to take one through US immigration and customs in Miami. We had hoped to cycle the Death Road, renown as ‘The world’s most dangerous road’, some 40 miles of winding, downhill only 3m wide with 600m drops, from Coroico, to La Paz. With many vehicles having gone over the edge, it’s now reserved for cyclists, with a route the other side of the valley for vehicles. However, the deterioration in weather meant we visited the quaint and interesting (but less adventurous) museums on the well preserved colonial Calle Jaén instead. The soup, beef and llama steaks were great in the Pronto and Rendezvous restaurants, the latter being the venue for our final team meal, at which Juan and Ricardo were our honoured guests. So was it all worth it? In a word, yes, if you love the mountains and are up for a tough physical and mental challenge in the company of a great team and expert guides. Descending Huayna Potosi, we had passed a fellow climber being helped by a guide whose legs were all but gone – Gordon later said ´He´d given it his all.´ Which just about sums up the spirit of high altitude mountaineering; whatever height we had achieved on the mountain, we had given it our all in the high Cordillera Real of Bolivia. Peter Curran 14th August 2015
By Peter from GUILDFORD | 15 March 2016
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Wonderful and challenging mountaineering in the Swiss and Italian Alps
Italian High Level Route
Italy’s 4,000 Metre Monsters A trek in the high peaks of the Italian and Swiss Alps It was 9.30am Monday morning and we were trudging up through the snow towards our target, the rounded summit of the Breithorn at 4,164m. We had seen this, the first of our 4000m+ peaks, on Sunday from the sun terrace of the Gaudegg Hut; it hadn’t looked too bad from there. But now, slogging up from the Trockenersleg cable car station on the Breithorn Plateau, not yet acclimatised at this high altitude, it was hard going. It hadn’t helped that none of us had slept well the night before. In six-bedded rooms (a single and two double bunks, where I had shared a mattress with Phil, an accountant from Hull), the chorus of snores, people’s intermittent visits to the cold, outside loo, and listening to your elevated heart rate (huh-huh, huh-huh, huh-huh), amplified through ear plugs, made sleep almost impossible. At breakfast Phil recalled guide Richard’s words, ‘Even if you’re not sleeping, you’re resting’. Vicky, a dancer from London, told us she was terrified when her dad, Jeremy, stopped breathing, only to restart abruptly as if defibrillated with a huge and noisy intake of breath – apparently this is quite common at high altitude – which is okay if your body remembers to breathe again. Guide Kathy led us on another zag up the snow slope with her small, steady steps, followed on the rope by Vicky, Jeremy, John (an experienced hike leader from the Forest of Dean) and me. We were sharing the mountain with lots of groups in front and behind, all making for the summit, while skiers and snowboarders headed the other way to slide off the plateau. Richard’s group (Ashley, Phil, Simon and his son, Jasper) were somewhere up ahead, a problem with Vicky’s crampon having slowed us at the start. Talking of crampons, it was lucky Ashley had any – arriving at the Gandegg Hut above Zermatt on Sunday and about to practise on the glacier, Richard asked what he no doubt assumed was a rhetorical question; ‘So, everyone’s got their harness and crampons?’ We all nodded, except Ashley, who said, ‘No’. Richard was incredulous. Ash said, ‘I told you I didn’t have any at the hotel.’ Vicky corroborated, ‘Yes, I remember, but we thought you were joking.’ Richard quickly recovered and a new plan was hatched – Kathy would bring them up when she met us on Monday, and for the practice Ashley would make do. In fact, he did so well without them, duck-walking up and down the snow slope, that we suggested he didn’t need crampons at all. Finally we reached the narrow summit ridge and in a few minutes were on the top. It was very cold as an icy wind swept across the exposed summit, and crowded as groups were arriving, milling around or leaving. But with the characteristically pointed shape of the Matterhorn dominating the view to the northwest, and many other 4000m+ peaks in Switzerland and Italy visible, the 3600 panorama was spectacular. After initially retracing our steps, we descended steeply to the Breithorn Pass. I tripped and fell headfirst at one point, but the rope system came quickly into play, so much so that when Kathy shouted, ‘Get on your feet!’ I could hardly move I was held so tight. We made a long traverse, passing the toe of the Pullux peak, and then all the way down to Rifugio d’Ayas at 3,440m. The sleeping accommodation had deteriorated; we were now, all eight of us, fitted on a single shelf, with another group joining us on the other side of the attic room. Ash’s alarm went off at 5.30am on Tuesday morning but it was irrelevant because none of us was asleep – it had been a noisy night and the smelly heat of sixteen bodies had turned our dormitory, even with two windows wide open, into a sweaty solarium. To make matters worse, the clouds that had been moving across the previous afternoon were now an engulfing grey soup-scape penetrated only by the cold drizzle. So before setting off we donned waterproofs top and bottom, minus our harnesses but crampons at the ready. The descent from the hut was precarious, on wet rock hanging on to fixed ropes as we navigated irregular steps in the rock some of the way down. It got worse when we reached a steeply dipping expanse of ice, which proved so tricky without crampons that Richard cut steps with his ice axe, while Kathy crudely roped around the waist those of us she no doubt deemed most likely to take a dive (myself, Ash, Jeremy and Vicky). We were rewarded with cups of hot chocolate at the Mezzalama Hut, while Richard duct-taped some padding around Jeremy’s ankle to protect it from an ill-fitting boot. It was a straightforward hike down the Vallee d’Ayas, the rain soaking us through despite the hundreds of pounds worth of high-tech Gore-tex that we all wore. But the two and a half hour hike 700m up to the Passo di Bettolina at 2,905m was a different matter – the boulder field was like an obstacle course set by the gods, the only respite being small patches of snow where we cut steps with the sides of our boots (and were I slipped and nearly had to begin again as if on a giant ‘snakes and ladders’ board). Near the top it steepened and was slippery with gravel. We didn’t linger long because we couldn’t see anything of the view. All our gloves soaked, Vicky’s hands were freezing, but John pulled from his deep rucksack a huge pair of fluffy red ones, for which Vicky was eternally grateful, even though they did make her look like Omo. Following the broad ridge, it was a relief to reach the chairlift station at the Col Bettaforca, where the heater made our soggy clothes steam as we sipped hot coffee. Despite the constant drizzle, the day got better. Descending to Stafal, Kathy led us straight to a bar that cooked great pizzas. There was a wood burner but despite the offer of vast amounts of money by Jeremy (who ran a wealth management business), the proprietor declined to light it so we remained wet and cold. The cable car took us up to Plan Galbiet. In Rifugio Galbiet we were four to a room with proper bunk beds, there was a drying room, loos you can sit down on, showers with hot water, and coffee at €1.50; we thought we’d died and gone to heaven. The idyll was completed by a splendid Italian meal: delicately crafted, delicious tasting lasagne, thick and hearty pea soup, yummy veal and carrots, and a sweet desert. Up at 6am Wednesday morning, it took two cable cars to reach the Glacier di Indren at 3,275m. Sadly, Jeremy’s ankle problem had worsened and he and Vicky decided to leave the trek. As they made their way down and, by various modes of transport, back to a comfortable hotel in Zermatt, we made our way up and across the glacier, then negotiated some fixed ropes to arrive at the Rifugio Mantova at 3,500m. The weather had cleared so, after dropping off some surplus gear, we were all ready to ascend the Pyramid Vincent, our second 4,000m+ peak, which dominated the skyline above the hut. We set off at 10.10am, Richard leading John, myself and Phil, while Kathy followed with Ash and Simon. Richard set for us a blistering pace and like all these mountain summits, it was further than it looked, especially as the route took us around behind it. At the Col Vincent we made a stop to drink and catch our breath. A man in snow shoes passed us descending, leading a small black dog in a red coat. The dog was high-stepping and definitely not wagging its tail – the poor thing probably thought it had set out for walkies around town and was now freezing its paws off at 4,000m. A last push up the steep snow slope to the summit, zig-zagging as we went, and we were on top of Pyramid Vincent at 4,215m. It was perfectly clear and we could see all the way to Mont Blanc and beyond. Kathy’s team arrived soon after and together we celebrated our conquest. Richard said, ‘Do you want to do that little one over there?’ At first I thought he meant the jagged peak to the north and higher than us (the Ludwigshorn) and wondered if I had the legs. But our new target was the Balmenhorn at 4,167m, a rocky outcrop adjacent to our current position. We retraced our steps down to the col and climbed 90m up the other side. The ascent was made more exciting by the need to cross a narrow ice ridge one at a time, then scramble up fixed ropes with the aid of some metal steps (noisy and slippy wearing crampons) to the summit. A bronze statue of Christ (made from Second World War scrap as a symbol of peace) stands looking down the valley as if to say, ‘Look at all this I’ve made,’ or perhaps, ‘Venture up here if you dare.’ Our descent was fast and exhausting and a good nap in the hut that afternoon was welcome. On the way down we passed a group practising rescue techniques by the mouth of a large crevasse. Others were walking on the glacier un-roped (even though they were carrying them) as if on a Sunday stroll at the park rather than a serious expedition at altitude on crevasse-riven ice. Lots of tut-tutting from our guides, whose tales of the fatal dangers of complacency on the glacier kept us focused and alert. Rifugio Mantova, with its broad sun terrace and vast dining room, provided us with a good meal as we braced ourselves for an early start and the big day that was to follow. Thursday saw us up at 4.45am for a 5am breakfast, ready to leave by ten minutes to six. The route took us back up towards Pyramid Vincent for our ascent and crossing of the Lisjoch, a broad plateau that would lead back into Switzerland. Ash had worried about packing in time but I said, ‘There won’t be much to pack, you’ll be wearing it all.’ It was dark and very cold when we set off. The glacier was dotted with headtorch beams like fairy lights from the multiple groups ascending, tied together and having learnt like us to move at a synchronised speed. The rope suddenly went tight and there was a yell from the back. John and I turned. Phil was down – we thought he’d tripped but he was thigh-deep in a crevasse. ‘Keep the rope tight,’ Kathy yelled at us, then to Phil, ‘Keep moving, on your hands and knees.’ Phil stumbled along and was soon out of the hole and on his feet again. We continued at Kathy’s steady but manageable pace. The sun began its rise which made the mountain-scape below us glow. But then everything whited out and we were in a hazy nether-world where the dark shapes of trekkers appeared and disappeared like ghosts. ‘Is this going to be worth it? Are we going to be able to see anything?’ I wondered. Eventually at 8.30am we arrived at the Lisjoch col at 4,151m, and stopped to sip water, eat snacks and recover. Then, like at the theatre, the curtain was raised. The mist and cloud eased away to leave us gawping at the huge peaks of the Monte Rosa Massif surrounding us and, in the distance, the tooth like point of the Matterhorn beckoning us home. It was a long way to the Monte Rosa hut, down the glacier that was to eat my camera. We weaved our way downwards wary of the huge serrates (large teeth-like stands of snow) and deep crevasses, having to jump across one where the snow bridge was unstable. The view of the flow of ice was awesome, its backdrop the Matterhorn and other huge Swiss peaks. Stopping to let the group ahead negotiate a tricky patch, I got my camera out but neglected to put the wrist strap on. It slid from my grip, dropped onto the ice and slid, slowly at first, down the ice slope to the gaping mouth of a huge crevasse, then disappeared. Learning point: when travelling on the glacier, attach fast everything you want to keep. Some millennia from now it may reappear at the foot of the valley, providing a pixalled historical record of a group of Neanderthal-like explorers who left their mark on this insatiable landscape. Thinking of the future, the Monte Rosa hut was the future – a bright, solar-panelled, square-shaped spaceship of a building standing resolute at 2,883m on the shoulder of this magnificently glaciated valley. On its sun terrace, we gulped our drinks and devoured our rostis (sausage and fried potato), enjoying the Matterhorn-dominated view. And the antics of the resident cat who, as number one high altitude predator, dashed and caught a squeaking rat as we watched and, after its meal beneath the decking, reappeared liking its lips and looking for desert (a careless bird or a sleepy marmot perhaps). On Friday we were looking forward to our leisurely breakfast (as per the brochure) – well it was relatively leisurely, if a little early at 7am, before we walked out of the mountains. We had assumed this would be down; it did start with a steep descent to the glacier using fixed ropes in places, but after that it was mostly up. We donned crampons twice to cover stretches of the gleaming glacier, cut by small streams rushing down the valley. We crossed bridges and climbed ladders up vertical faces until we were on the contour path that took us round to the Rotenboden station of the Gornergrat mountain railway, where the train goes down to Zermatt. The trekking done, all that was left was to hug and thank our intrepid guides, Richard and Kathy, and to eat ginormous burgers at the Brown Cow in sleepy but picturesque Zermatt. Peter Curran August, 2014
By Peter from GUILDFORD | 15 March 2016
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