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In 1996 R was invited as a late replacement on a four person trip to the Cordillera Huayhuash. I felt a bit peeved at being deprived of a walking holiday, so booked with the Ramblers to go hill walking from Foppolo in Italy not far from Bergamo, which was in the epicentre of Wave 1 of the Italian Covid experience.
I decided that I would be a “woman of mystery” , since I was on my own, but the leader of another party blew my cover when he recognised me from another year and shouted “Hi 'Sgurr' where’s R?” Below “A woman of mystery.” Dark glasses and all
Day 1 Pico de Escovo and a local cheesemakerDay 2. Rain kept us low and though we had set off in minibuses hoping for a return via the peaks, we only made it via the passesDays 3 and 4 Disappointed again and did walks between the rain showers.[/b]
Day 5. Contoured round Monte Arrete, followed by Monte Vallegina Day 6 Lakes and a shepherd
Day 7 Set off up Cima Cadelle 1000 metres of ascent and a lovely day. Overtaken by motor bikes and a woman who usually walked the Brecon beacons said “I hate and despise motor bikes, they are ruining the paths where we walk.” Back in Foppolo they opened the night club specially for us (out of season) with an ex-army guy an unlikely star, bopping round the dance floor like tank on speed.
Day 8. Minibuses to San Simone again and climbed Monte Cavallo
Day 9. Supposed to be another peak, but Plan B for a wet day saw a rather atmospheric walk with umbrellas.
Day 10. Leader’s day off. I asked a guy who had appointed himself deputy what we were going to do, and he viewed a huge pile of cornflakes another guy was about to start and replied “Today we are going to climb Don’s breakfast” . Some of us then decided to climb
Corno Stella, and as I wanted to avoid the cloud set off at a reasonable pace. At least we got there before it clouded up. “Who led?” asked the leader when we had got back. “Galloping ‘Sgurr’,” one of them replied. “WHAT!!!!?????
Day 11 Bergamo as tourists
Day 12. Passo Dordona and around
Day 13 Up the N.E. ridge of Monte Torre. An experiment the leader hadn’t done before. Found it rather alarming in places, as did a woman who had come on this holiday to persuade herself she could still do the hills after her son had fallen to his death on the first holiday they had allowed two brothers to set off by themselves. I don’t know how she had managed to psych herself up for some of these hills. I joined her to sit quietly and chat for a while, amazed at her courage.
This year was the year of Ramblers 50th Birthday and they were running a photographic competition. Every so often someone would shout “This is the winner!” The guys were very dismissive “Let’s face it, we don’t have anyone glamorous enough to win it for us.” I persisted and posed photo after photo, convinced that Ramblers would prefer “friendly” to “glamourous”
Eventually settling on this one.
Finally I heard from Ramblers that I had won third prize of a week in the Lake District: I had really wanted the long haul, or the European holiday, but a week in the Lakes wasn’t to be sneezed at.
Foppolo wasn't the Cordillera Huayhuash, but I hadn't been invited to that one.