Almost three years ago an idea popped into our minds: what if we take over the mountains! Well, of course, where do you want to start? Let’s start with the Mont Blanc! Seems logic for a bunch of non-mountaineers with no prior knowledge and no legs for this adventure. Fast forward some twelve months, we made it to the Mont Blanc. Not to the actual top, but enough to give us fuel, a different perspective and the feeling of wanting more. Back then we crossed three countries (France, Italy, Switzerland) to close the Mont Blanc trail and to fully live a magic week. The excitement, the fear, the thrill, the anxiety, the panic, the cold, the heat, the snow, that cheeky feeling when we made it back to Chamonix – that was our well-deserved prize.
Fast forward another year and look at us taking over the Dolomiti. Both trips were organised by TravelBase and the teams who joined were part Belgian, part Dutch. With the only two English speaking marmots: the two of us. Talking about marmots: we’ve seen two while on the Mont Blanc (gosh, they are fat and extremely cute), none in the Dolomiti. But we heard them all the time. They have a funny screech and the sound goes over the tops, piercing the unbearable silence of the white pointy rocks.
The trip started with a short flight to Venice where we spent half a day, thankful for the food and the affogato with the best vanilla ice cream and the weird lack of tourist flocks. Peak of the Venice experience was paying twice as much as in Switzerland for two double espressos and a bottle of water in Piazza San Marco. Well, what was that all about? It will clearly remain a mystery. One that we paid for in the end ‘cos we’re poor runners and we did not have the gut to just up and leave.
Jumped in the FlixBus from Venice to Cortina d’Ampezzo where we arrived late in the evening. Not that late, though, to not see and feel the dozens of brit tourists talking loud and drinking heavily at the only beer bar still open at that hour.
First thing in the morning after a weird I-will-boil-the-egg-for-you-please-do-not-touch-it continental buffet-breakfast (Yes, we were not allowed to pick our own food – one tough lady was cutting our slice of bread, boiling our one egg and placing it all on our plates. No touchy-touchy, apparently), our guy Bruno, the taxi driver, took us to Misurina where we would spend the second night and where the trail was about to start.
We met with our two rangers who explained the maps and our routes. Unlike Mont Blanc, where the rangers where always with us on the mountains, chaperoning us all the way, the Dolomiti trail was a self-guided one. You have the map, you have your trekking poles, your backpacks, good luck, take a left here. We were the last ones to arrive in Misurina so the other companions were already on their way to Lake Sorapis.
We filled the bottles with water (I have no idea if all water was drinkable during our trip, but, anyway, look at me now: still two arms, two legs, three eyes, so we’re good) and tied our backpacks. Unlike Mont Blanc, again, in this trip we were told we need to carry the big backpacks every-freaking-moment. At first I thought this would be my main problem. Silly me, the backpack became part of my own back, I did not even remove it while sleeping (this, here, is a joke).
First route was from Misurina to the Lake – somehow a loop of 13 km with a descent and ascent of about 710 meters. Piece of strudel! Oh, and what a first piece of strudel I had at Rifugio Vandelli, just close to the lake! I really love the good vibe each time we pause at a refuge on the mountains! It’s the perfect moment to stop, breathe, see other fellows, observe the latest trends in boots and backpacks, smile, talk, have a coffee, eat the best food and breathe again.
I knew about Sorapis, thank you Google, but I wanted to have my eyes closed up until the full lake was opening up in front of me. And oh my freaking god! I felt like my eyes hurt since they were not prepared for the colours and quiet and beauty! I have never seen such a blue. And I have seen blue lakes and glaciers in the Mont Blanc to last for a life time. Nothing like this jewel here. Took trillions of photos and went back to close the first loop of the day.
After those 13 km, we decided to hitch-hike another 5 km back to the hotel with two Polish guys who did not speak proper English nor did they know about their own plans so they decided Misurina is a great place to end the day for them also. Cheers, guys! I understood basically nothing from our car conversation, apart from Brasov, Sighisoara, Dracula. Yes, again Dracula, who I am trying to explain all the time. Depending on my mood, he is either real as sh*t or just a story.
Upon return, the group was already back so we got to have a first beer together, do the presentations and meet the two other men with whom we will share the room for the first night: Richard and Kai, father and son. Ah, the father was the look-alike of Bruce Willis, felt like hugging him constantly. Kai was nineteen, a nice dude who decided to take a gap year and just stroll the world for one year before deciding if university and studying is really something he wanted.
I want to thank whoever invented earplugs and allowed us all to have a decent sleep while in a shared space.
Second day was a bit difficult and funny in the same time. We were supposed to start the route in front of the hotel in Misurina and go straight to Zsigmondy Hutte – Rifugio Zsigmondy (which would also be our second night accommodation), passing the Tre Cime. The funny part was that I had already googled the three peaks so I (thought I) had a pretty good idea of what they were, where they were. However, along the road, we were passing them multiple times and I was that biblical Doubting Thomas: we are not there yet, these are clearly not the Tre Cime, everyone be patient and wait. These were indeed the Tre Cime, seen from various angles, I was just being cute and a bit stupid.
This day we hiked 17 km with an almost 1000 m ascent and a 500 m descent. The route takes you on the AltaVia – more rocks and no place to pee (hold it in!) since you are in full view – and what a view! Another strudel at the Refugio Locatelli ale Tre Cime. And another strudel. No, it is not a typo. I had half a kilo of apple strudel. I felt quite sick afterwards because I do not have a brain that functions when it comes to food.
The internet is a privilege along the routes. Most of the times we needed cash also since we were not able to pay by phone, watch, card or other modern devices.
At Rifugio Zsigmondy we experienced the first night in a refuge at 2224 m. We were welcome by two donkeys (the animals!) that I absolutely loved. They were also the ones waking me up in the morning. Such a treat! Our room was a big one. Well, if you take into account that we were 20 persons sharing the same four walls. We knew 10 of them, our group, the other half were random-night-peeing-fellows. I know this because my top bunk bed was the one close to the door and I heard it slam each time someone could not hold it in.
Water is precious in the huts (and in general, dooh!) so showers are not mandatory and if you really want one, you pay around 7 euros to get 20 litres of water. I know now that this amount of water lasts for two persons. Waiting in line for a shower is another story. You can, for example, make use of that time and cheer with fellow Spanish guys at the Spain-England final. By the way, how come they got internet to stream the game? Yet an unsolved mystery.
Another fun part was me trying to jump off the bed early in the morning (I am that awful person waking up at 5 am) and not being able to make it to the floor with no stair, chair, something to help me with. After a great breakfast (well, given that you eat absolutely everything that is placed in front of you because you know you need it, I am in no position to audit the food at the huts), we left Zsigmondy to descent to Val Fiscalina, in Sexten – a 6 km pleasant descent. From there, we were supposed to be taken by shuttle to Lake Braies where the second part of the our day would begin.
Day three was about to kick us in the butts at Lake Braies. But this is a story for the next post. Stay tuned and surf on! Well, more like hike on!