Bel oiseau - Fontanabran

Without a doubt, the best day on the hill I’ve had I’ve had in a long time.

Photo courtesy of my new mate, the Flying Frenchie as I nicknamed him. I watched as he ran up towards the summit of Fontanabran, thinking: ‘he’s absolutely flying’… and so he was. Though he wasn’t entirely sure where he was headed, having decided to complete the traverse on spec’, basically following the route I was taking in reverse.

I said ‘Bonjour’, as you do. And remarkably, for once it was warranted. Frederic. A bona fide local-ish. On the hills above Chamonix. Switzerland actually, but still, a rare thing it seems. I was taking photos from the summit, and he suggested that he should take mine. So, the photo credit is his.

We continued chatting – the usual stuff – mountains climbed, routes run, places still to visit… It turned out he’d read some book about running in Scotland. Apparently, it had won an award. He was keen to go. The conversation was becoming a little surreal.

I pointed out the descent – and mentioned the Patou dogs in the valley. He seemed unconcerned. ‘What about the midgets?’ he asked, still thinking of Scotland.

‘Ils sont horribles’, I said – or something close. I was quite impressed with that. He laughed, probably at my French, and we parted – he for the steep drop to lac d'Emosson, and me for Bel Oiseau. By the time I thought to point the camera in his direction he was gone. I suspect he was down long before me, and I turned for the ridge. And what a ridge it is. Technical, but nowhere particularly demanding, with the entirety of the Mont Blanc massif laid out before me. Happy days.