It’s a cold and cloudy March morning, I’ve come down with the flu and I’m feeling pretty sorry for myself. I snuggle up on the sofa under a blanket, head well and truly fogged, whilst my puppy is off terrorising some new toy. It’s also my birthday, though I don’t feel in the mood to celebrate it this year. I’m handed an envelope, which I assume is another card but this one contains a mysterious QR code with the words ‘scan me’ written neatly below like a futuristic Alice in Wonderland.

I’m taken to a web page that I instantly recognise. It’s the same web page my hiking pals have been excitedly discussing in the WhatsApp chat for months. The very trip I said I couldn’t join them on, due to having a new puppy and therefore, being eternally broke. I instantly know that my partner has booked it on my behalf and my pals are probably waiting with baited breath for me to drop into the chat with an expletive or two.

This is then followed up by another card signed by, quite possibly, everyone who knows me. Wishing me a safe trip and explaining that the flights have also been covered. In this moment I don’t know how to process the information (head fog prevails) and I sit there, quietly sobbing and feeling like I don’t deserve any of it.

Fast forward a couple of months and it’s now June, I’ve spent the last few weeks agonising over packing lists and hydration tablets, whether I’ve got all the right kit and if my bag should be lighter. Not to mention me falling UP the stairs in such a way that I bend my big toe backwards 90 degrees, resulting in some impressive bruising and a comical hobble six days before take off. I joke about it now but I seriously thought it was going to end things for me at the time. As it happens, it was nothing that regular ice baths, volterol gel, ibuprofen and a sturdy pair of boots couldn’t solve.

Before I dive into the day to day breakdown of the trip, this was organised through Much Better Adventures and hosted by Happy Tracks. I cannot sing praises high enough for Rob (our guide) who was a massive support to me when I needed it, whilst also providing comic relief in equal measure. This is a much shorter version of the full TMB trek, as it’s designed to be done in a long weekend, but you still hike through three different countries in that time. The full circuit trek is ten days long if you’re feeling up to it. Flights and travel insurance are not included in the cost so that’s something to factor in if you’re considering doing it yourself.

Val Ferret heading towards the Italian-Swiss border with views of Mont Blanc, Dent du Géants, and the Grandes Jorasses massif.

DAY ONE
We’re up early to catch our flight from Bristol airport to Geneva, where we meet the rest of our group outside a Jazz Cafe. We’re bundled into a couple of minibuses before rocketing down the motorway. We’re sleepy but excited (and hungry, there wasn’t much time to eat). We end up stuck in traffic for about an hour just before The Mont Blanc Tunnel (it’s 11.6km long) and I’ve unfortunately picked a seat in direct sunlight and no air-con (it’s about 28 degrees at this point). After what feels like endless mountain roads that switchback on themselves and some questionable breaking on our driver’s behalf, we make it to the car park we’re due to start from.

We’re given our packed lunches, which I devour right then and there, fill up our water bladders from the nearby fountain and work out how to extend our loaned hiking poles, whilst some of the group go for their first wild wees of the trek.

We begin by walking up a winding road with mountains stretching up on either side of us. I’m not particularly good with transitions (and at this point there had been a lot of them) so I was really trying to be ‘present’ and take it all in. Being surrounded by such formidable landscapes, and feeling so small in comparison, is one of my absolute favourite feelings in the world. It’s both humbling (‘How can my problems be of any importance in a world where THIS exists!’) and inspiring in equal measure.

This short stretch of road-walking successfully lures me into a false sense of security because we suddenly take a hard right, crossing a small bridge and then it’s relentlessly UP for the next two hours, into Val Ferret.

Now, I’m not an ‘unfit’ person usually, I hike a lot, but I don’t usually hike at a fast pace, preferring instead to stop often, take photos, marvel at plants or just shut my eyes and listen. My hiking pals are the same and this is why we work so well as a group, each so different but complimenting each other perfectly as we walk in meandering harmony. But when the rest of the group on this trip are either police officers, cross-fitters or even professional rugby players and eager to ‘get into it’, you do have to speed up a bit.

I’m not going to lie, it’s hard going and I doubt my life choices (as is the way with most mountain hikes). My heart-rate feels like it’s through the roof and the thirty degree heat with little shade and non-existent breeze doesn’t help matters. I’ve never felt so hot or sweaty before and I’m forever grateful for investing in some last-minute merino wool base layers to stop me stinking (especially as I end up wearing them for the next four days).

We arrive at the Rifugio at just gone 5pm, swap our boots for hut-shoes (Tevas, just like Cheryl Strayed) and stash them away in the basement. Most mountain huts have a separate room for boots (you can imagine the smell). Then we head up to the attic room, where our mixed dorm is. This is my first time in an alpine hut and as a self-proclaimed cabin and small-living enthusiast, preferring a cosy hut over a hotel room any day, I absolutely adore it. This will also turn out to be my favourite accommodation of the trip too and I kinda wish we had more time there.

We each have a little cubby opposite our bed to hang our bags, towels and clothes, which makes organising kit easy enough without feeling on top of each other. The showers are token operated and mine is a good temperature (though not everyone has the same experience). There’s also a little ‘tuck-shop’ by the bar, where you can buy crisps and chocolate. I order a chilled lemonade as I’m not much of a drinker and sit outside in the sun, taking in the dramatic views of Mont Blanc in front of me.

Later, we sit down for dinner and get to know each other better whilst Rob goes over our itinerary for day two. If you’re like me and struggle with over-stimulation, the food hall is something to prepare yourself for. It’s hot and loud, with different crowds competing for volume, whilst simultaneously trying to hear themselves over each other (not unlike a pub of a Saturday night). We also end up (unfortunately) sharing the route as a large (and particularly rowdy) group of older men, who, for the next two days, kept making comments I doubt they would have said to other men. I suppose they thought themselves to be charismatic and charming, whilst in reality, they were just insufferable. I take a little break outside to cool down/off, decompress and admire the way the last light of the day caresses the mountain peaks before turning in (earplugs in hand) for the night.

DAY TWO
Today is our biggest day of the trek. Described as an ‘invigorating ascent’ and coming in at almost 19km I’m glad of the decent night’s sleep. We eat as much of the breakfast buffet as we can before refilling our water bladders and downing our first electrolyte of the day. I recover my boots from the basement and heave my bag onto my back.

We start our hike off in the morning shade, trying to beat the sun before any real incline befalls us. I'm feeling refreshed but also slightly daunted about what’s to come. Yesterday knocked my confidence quite a bit and I’m conscious about keeping up with everyone. We navigate our first ice crossing, where the hired poles really come into their own, stopping me from essentially sliding off the mountainside. We stomp our way across, making sure our boots dig into the slush before taking the next step. Thankfully my toe hasn’t given me too much grief so far.

We head into valley below, where we stop at a small and seemingly hostile cafe. I guzzle down a blue Poweraid and inhale a Grenade protein bar, ready for the ascent up to Grand Col Ferret (2536m).

They weren’t wrong about this being “one of the most challenging passes on the TMB route”. I have my head down for most of it, putting one foot in front of the other, trying desperately to keep my heart rate under control and my breathing level as I climb. Rob hangs back and takes my bag for a bit, to see if it helps but it feels just as hard. It isn't down to the altitude, as we’re not high enough. I mention to Rob that I had the flu back in March (which I’m sure turned into Pneumonia) and that’s when everything starts to click into place. Rob explains that my lungs won’t have fully recovered yet so I stop beating myself up about it, kept an eye on where the others are headed and just go at my own pace.

Looking back, I wish I had taken a photo of the cairn that marks the border between Italy and Switzerland but all I could think about in that moment, was resting, scoffing the sweaty cheese baguette that was squashed in my bag somewhere and sponging myself down with a wet-wipe before applying more SPF.

We leave the crowds and take a well trodden track down into Swiss territory, where we find broad swathes of glistening snow that further accentuate the mountain’s rugged surface. It feels otherworldly up here and I’m back to my happy place, wandering along like the poles are now new limbs I’ve formed overnight.

We pass a group of marmots standing on hind legs, warning others of our arrival and decend down through Algae de la Peule accompanied by the iconic chorus of Swiss mountain cows bells. When we reach the valley floor, the weather takes a turn. We go from uninterrupted sunshine to torrential hail (the size of mint imperials) in a split second and we run to take shelter under the large parasols of Alpage des Art, desperately huddled to stay dry, until our minibus arrives.

We’re dropped off, tired and hungry, at Lac de Champex, a 27 acre lake at the foot of the Mont Blanc masstif. We immediately change into bathing suits before soaking our weary bones in the crystal waters. I often swim mid-hike in the UK so this is a welcome treat with it’s impressive backdrop and surrounding alpine trees, I can absolutely see why Champex-Lac is nicknamed “Switzerland’s little Canada”.

We quickly redress and trundle up the road for a couple more kilometres before passing through verdant woodland and stepping out into a clearing, where our hut sits peacefully. We hang our swimming gear out on the line to dry and store our boots again for the night. We go up to our room, three bunk beds are arranged on the walls that don’t occupy the door and every surface is clad in fragrant pine. It’s rustic and I love it, not as much as the mountain refuge from day one, because well… views, but it’s cosy.

Dinner consists of soup and salad and is followed by a Swiss cheese fondue with bread and boiled potatoes. I eat everything in sight and wash it all down with, what feels like, my eighth Fanta so far. Later we’re treated to a brief thunderstorm and incredible pink skies afterward. It’s just us girls in the dorm tonight so we share sleepover snacks and stories before lights out.

There’s an unwritten rule in these kinds of huts that you’re conscious of other guests and quiet after 10pm. We’re all here to hike after all and tend to be up early but the men from day one are here too and they stay up getting drunk, watching football and shouting into the early hours. Thankfully we part ways after this.

DAY THREE
Day three arrives and I’m settling into this new way of life now. I find packing hard to do in such a confined space, not wanting to get it any of my bunkmate’s way, but I’m out front on time and ready to seize the day (must have been the all-carbs dinner). Today we’re to following the classic Bovine route to Trient and are promised winding forest paths, mountain streams and spectacular views of the Rhone Valley.

I call this our ‘Sound of Music’ day. We start off relatively flat, passing through open grassy meadows and past traditional Swiss lodges until we head into the forest and ascend a rocky path that zigzags to the top. It’s demanding but I can tell I am managing it a lot better this time, stopping less and keeping a consistent pace. We take an prodigious and unnerving crossing over the remains of an avalanche (hiking poles are now a nonnegotiable) and climb on until we reach high alpages dominated by wild flowers, the sound of bells and views that more than make up for the effort. It’s here, at Alp Bovine, where we rest for a short while, another Fanta down and a slab of chocolate cake follows.

Next we take another undulating path through grasslands and alpine forests until we reach Col de la Forclaz, a mountain pass where we enjoy ice creams and buy trinkets (a patch for my bag). Following the curve of the next valley we descend down to a short but lofty boardwalk through the forest, getting a good view of the Trient’s famous pink church below.

We’re pleasantly surprised to find that our room for the night at La Grande Ourse has been recently refurbished. It’s like a tour bus (basically a bunk bed with a curtain) which affords us the luxury of an independent bedtime. Each bunk also has a light and a power outlet (a nice touch) and there’s plenty of room to move around when packing too.

We lounge around outside in the various hammocks and striped lawn chairs for a while, sipping yet more Fanta and then stretching in the last of the daylight. Dinner here is the best yet. We start with a flavoursome soup, then fill our bellies with two helpings of spaghetti (fuel for the last day) and finish with a sponge cake.

DAY FOUR
It’s our last day on the TMB. I’m a bit groggy this morning but I feel confident after yesterday’s progress. I do the daily routine of filling my bottle/bladder, pack/repack my bag, retrieve my boots from the basement and set out into the cool (and thankfully dry) morning air. I take a quick photo of the group (a tradition my friends are well used to) and settle into my usual pace South through the Trient valley.

Today we are due to scale Col de Balme (2190m) and our last long ascent of the route. We climb another switchback forest path to begin until it opens out once more to incredible views. There are stones along this route with waymarkers painted onto them so it’s virtually impossible to get lost, should you fall behind. This gives me some comfort as I hike on, though some of my trek-mates have slowed down today too. This is undoubtedly my favourite day of the trip. It’s still challenging at times but I’ve stopped trying to prove anything to myself (and ultimately beating myself up about it). I’m on my own journey now and loving every minute of it. Then, just like that, the final mountain refuge comes into view.

Sitting proudly amongst the mountains on the border between Switzerland and France, Refuge du Col de Balme, with it’s vivid red shutters, is a welcome sight. It marks the last high point of our trek and awards us with the most insane panoramic views towards Mont Blanc and the Aiguille du Midi. It also supplies me with a delicious chocolate brownie and a nice bench to sit on, so points all round really.

Refuge du Col de Balme with views of the Aiguille du Midi (left) and Mont Blanc (middle).

After getting about a zillion photos at the top and taking turns standing on the border stone so we are in both countries at the same time, we reluctantly set off down into France. After many a Mulan song sung, we traverse round to another excellent view point, L'Aiguillettes des Posettes.

It’s a pretty relentless descent after this and by the end, our knees are shaking from the repetition. We practically sprint the last kilometre to catch the bus already waiting at Tré-le-Champ, which takes us on to central Chamonix. I’m overstimulated again, so the girls get a bite to eat whilst I sit in a small park with a water fountain, watching the birds come and go until I’ve reset. We do a little shopping until it’s finally time to say goodbye to our little trail family.

This trip was quite an emotional roller coaster for myself personally but I think that was down to my own physical and mental fortitude (or lack their of) at the time. I feel like I did gain a lot of confidence off the back of it, even if it did also get knocked throughout. I would love to revisit some of the places on the TMB, go a bit slower and stay up in the mountains the entire time (rather than going down to hostels at a lower elevation). I’d also love to see some of the same places once they’ve been transformed by a thick layer of snow too but maybe that can be planned in when we finally go full millennial midlife crisis and get a campervan to go with the dog.

I hope this was helpful and gives you a little insight into the short version of the TMB. If you have any questions, feel free to reach out and I’ll try and answer them.

USEFUL LINKS
Much Better Adventures - Hut to Hut Weekend TMB Trek: https://www.muchbetteradventures.com/products/8665-adventures-trek-the-tour-du-mont-blanc-in-a-long-weekend/

Happy Tracks: https://happytracks.ch/

Rifugio Walter Bonatti: https://www.rifugiobonatti.it/en/

Auberge Gîte "Bon Abri”: http://www.gite-bon-abri.com/

La Grande Ourse: http://www.la-grande-ourse.ch/

Refuge du Col de Balme: https://www.refugeducoldebalme.com/