I spent my twenty-fourth birthday on the West Highland Way. Fast-forward a year, and I’m turning a quarter of a century on the Tour du Mont Blanc. I open a couple of birthday cards before heading down to breakfast. What Residence ATC Routes du Monde lacks in charm it more than makes up for in its breakfast spread: fresh viennoiseries, fruit salad, yogurts, cereals and sliced baguette. Sit tight – we’ve not got onto the entertainment just yet. Exhibit A: a lady breakfasting in a towelled poncho (just how hard is it to get dressed before you come down for breakfast?). Exhibit B: a lady who took a seat at a table (so far, so normal) and then proceeded to touch every single mug on the table and inspect them for cleanliness (…not so normal).
The early bird catches the worm – or, in our case, the lift up the hill to rejoin the route at Col de la Forclaz. We’d had to veer off the route the previous day, as all the auberges and refuges around Trient were fully booked, so when our host said he could drop us at the top of Col de la Forclaz on his way to work we gratefully took him up on the offer. We chat about this and that – the lack of sunlight in winter; how Facebook newsfeeds overflow with GIFs and the like – on the short drive up the hill and part ways at the top.