Maritime Alps – Day 5: The Final Stretch
MARITIME ALPS
Day 5: The Final Stretch
August 27, 2024
Waking up to a beautiful, sunny day, it seemed to me that the decision had been made for us. The weather and I, of course, were wrong.
Much to Alessia’s insistence, we would be better off heading back to Entracque instead of taking our chances with the weather. According to the staff, it was probably gonna rain again in the afternoon – by which point we’d be back at the refuge – but all forecasts predicted clear weather the following day. Perfect, right? Wrong.
With her previous reasons now proving to be a bit flimsy, she argued that she didn’t want to spend the afternoon trapped in the lodge when she could be doing other things in Marene. Plus, she didn’t want to be stuck there with strangers, knowing I’d want to spend my time reading alone. She had been trying to give me space, she said, but apparently, she didn’t want to feel like a third wheel to my solitude.
It was her holiday too, and I had to be mindful of the fact that she had gone out of her way to drive me around and host me, not to mention the fact that she had asked her grandpa to organise this whole thing for us. Also, why did I insist on wanting to see more of the Alps when I had mentioned, in passing, that no mountains would ever come close to those in Patagonia? GRAAAAAH!
The Argument We Couldn’t Avoid
She just wouldn’t budge, and neither would I. The way I saw it was perhaps a bit selfish. I had come all the way here to enjoy the Alps. I had invited her to join me because she’s my best friend, not because she could host me or show me around. I had managed just fine travelling without her before this trip, believe it or not.
When I asked her to tag along, she offered to do so out of the kindness of her own heart, or so I thought. I insisted she didn’t have to and that I didn’t wanna put her out, though she out-insisted me. And lemme just say, I was so, so thankful for that. But now that she was using it against me? I felt disappointed and hurt. If we were keeping score, I could have easily mentioned all the things I had done for her, though I don’t usually make it a habit to remember every single thing I do for others. But no, I wouldn’t stoop so low. Mostly cause, despite all that, I still cared so much for her.
That said, I was seeing red. I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt so, so angry. I could feel my heart thumping in my throat, angry tears welling up in my eyes, my nails digging into the flesh of my curled fists. There were screams. There was crying. And there was a lot of unnecessary drama. Drama which I absolutely hate. Drama which I never go through when I’m travelling alone. Ahh, to be alone.
I suggested we split up. She’d go back to Entracque that day, and I’d stay behind and join her the following day. But she just wouldn’t have it. She wasn’t gonna trek alone, despite these mountains being her home, and she wouldn’t leave me there, because her mum would be furious. Also, the point of the trip was for us to be together. And so, she gave up and stayed the extra day. But don’t think for a second that it felt as if she had made the choice. Her resentment, sulking and silent treatment showed otherwise.
To this day, I still believe I was in the right. I didn’t ask for favours to be tallied. I had come for the Alps. I made a clear, reasonable plan based on the forecast. I even offered a compromise, staying alone, and she refused it, then punished me emotionally for a choice she made. That said, being right doesn’t always feel like winning.
Lago del Chiotas
All grumpy and snippy, we went down for breakfast, attracting a few questioning stares along the way. To a third party, it must have been incredibly entertaining.
Since we had no set trail to follow, I decided we should make our way around Lago del Chiotas and then see from there, depending on the time and weather. The lake, we were told by the refuge staff, is a large artificial reservoir used as part of the Entracque hydroelectric plant. The mineral-rich water appears green, blue and every shade in between, depending on the position of the sun, making for a spectacular contrast with the stark grey, rocky cliffs surrounding it. A waterfall tumbling down from the Argentera massif fed a lush, verdant patch of vegetation, pretty much the only green part in the area.
Alessia tagged along without saying a word. I don’t remember Antarctica being that frosty. By the time we got to the lake, we had already started mumbling a few words to each other and, when we were in front of the first scenic views, we couldn’t help but exclaim how wonderful it all was. To this day, not saying “I told you so” was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done. The sheer act of holding it in would have given haemorrhoids to most people. I’m not joking.
Instead, I opted for the more sophisticated, subtle kind of gloating, with passive-aggressive, underhanded comments like, “Oh my God, this is definitely the best part of the trek so far.” Must have stung, right?
Petty though it might have been, it was also true. This lake was definitely the highlight for me. As we walked along its bank, I found myself completely mesmerised by the ever-changing colour of the water. One minute it was caerulean when the sun was shining directly above it, the next deep blue when the sky turned overcast.
As we circled around it, we got to enjoy views of the lake from various panoramic points, the best one arguably from above the dam infrastructure, high above the lake on a grassy plain. Honestly, no words can do justice to the vista in front of us: the bright blue sky with low-hanging mist veiling the grey mountaintops, the vivid, teal-coloured lake, its surface mirror-still, perfectly reflecting the rugged granite cliffs above, and the apple-green alpine grass and wildflowers around us. A view unlike any other. “Imagine if we had missed this.”
Lago Brocan and the Third Lake
From this vantage point, we could also see another grand lake, Lago della Rovina, one of the main highlights for the following day. Instead of going down, we continued making our way around Chiotas.
It was still quite early by the time we arrived back at the lodge. We had a coffee and a light snack, then immediately resumed our hike to Lago Brocan. This one, unlike Chiotas, is a smaller, natural alpine lake of glacial origin. The hauntingly beautiful viridian hue of the lake matches the lush vegetation covering the surrounding mountainside. Upon seeing this wonder, I found myself thinking how absolutely amazing it is that two completely different landscapes can exist just a few metres apart. Oh, the universe. You impressive little thing.
Our aim for this hike was not to go around the lake, but to find the “third lake”. While most people assume the third lake is the much larger Lago della Rovina, the locals told us they use the term to refer to a seasonal pool formed by snowmelt and runoff, one that might or might not be present during summer.
As we climbed above Brocan in search of this fabled lake, we were quite sceptical about our quest, though we still considered ourselves lucky enough to be witnessing such views. Throughout, we were kept in awe by the lake below us, and, once we gained enough elevation, we could also appreciate Lago del Chiotas in the background. Seeing the two of them aligned reminded me of the two small lakes at Colle di Fenestrelle we had seen the day before.
At a certain point, we reached a boulder-strewn alpine meadow with vibrant patches of green grass and a shallow stream flowing gently, threading its way through the rocks and grassy mounds. A thin waterfall cascading down a rocky slope in the background fed the stream. It was the most peaceful and serene area we had encountered thus far, fully isolated from everything. The perfect place to enjoy our apples.
Given that this was the closest thing we had encountered to a lake, we assumed we had made it. That said, we decided to push on a little further in the hope of reaching one of the higher passes. Unfortunately, it was at this point that the weather started to rear its ugly head and the pesky, ominous grey clouds began chasing us. We decided to err on the side of caution and turn back, knowing how bad it could get. And thank God we did, as pretty much the second we got back to the refuge, all hell broke loose and a downpour started. Just as predicted, I might add.
Storms, Scopa and Serendipity
Speaking for myself, the afternoon was my kind of heaven. After lunch, another charcuterie board, we spent a few hours chatting and playing Scopa again.
Then we went up to our room, each had a nap and read a bit. You see? Compromise. Then we went back downstairs, had dinner, polenta again, no comment, and played some more Scopa. When we eventually got bored of that, I took the reins and suggested we play Ellen DeGeneres’ Heads Up. It’s practically a glorified game of charades, though it’s been my go-to ever since it was released. And lemme just say, it’s always been a hit.
So much so that a bunch of German trekkers joined us. It was two ladies and three guys, all in their sixties. We split into teams: men versus women. Care to guess who came out on top? Alright, alright. I’ll stop showing off now.
After the game, we all sat down and had a beer. They told us they were working on a project: the GTA. Each year, they’d all take a week or so off and head to the Alps, each time covering a different section of the trail. With the GTA spanning around 1,000 kilometres, it had taken them decades to finish most of it. And, much like Marika the previous day, this was their final trek. So, so inspiring. Also, so serendipitous, the fact that we met all of them on my first Alpine trek when it was gonna be their last.