A wild swim high on the Fiz.
A remote, intriguing hut-to-hut hike.
Oh! And the flowers...
Lac d'Anterne, the ramparts of the Fiz behind
A bright day, a heavy trek over the mountains. What better toward the end of the day than a bracing dip? It is in a turquoisy-grey lake just above 2,000m, the Lac d’Anterne.
The water is cold, refreshing. The shallows are packed with tadpoles; the flat stream flowing in has dark schools of fish fry darting back and forth - arctic char and trout. Immerse, slide through the water, splash out.
James in the lake. We did go deeper
Is it right? Is it acceptable to swim in such a pristine spot? More on this question later.
We were walking the Tour des Fiz, a circuit around and through the sheer towers of the Fiz rocks in the French Alps. People start and finish on the Passy side from Plaine Joux but we took an alternative route, setting off from Chamonix, looping around the Fiz and dropping down past Plaine Joux to Servoz, deep in the valley, from where the train takes walkers back to Chamonix itself.
It's a three day, hut to hut hike. I mean, you could run it in less than a day, if that's your thing, but the route is stiff enough as a walk and the refuges are fun for a stay.
Climbing from the Plan Praz mid-station to the crest of the Aiguilles Rouges, Mont Blanc behind
A gondola lift eased our way, up a rise known as the vertical kilometre, to a shelf: the Plan Praz mid-station half way up the Aiguilles Rouges. The Aiguilles are the rock pinnacles facing the Mont Blanc massif. From there, we took a winding path to a high notch in the rocky parapet, the Col du Brévent at 2,400m, bringing us face to face with the Fiz.
Les Fiz rocks. The way leads down to the greenery at right, then over the greenish ridge
We walked for four hours to a refuge, Moëde-Anterne, which you can see above as a white scar in the green cwm to the right. We ate our sandwiches, bought an Orangina from the bar, then hiked up the the faint white line you can see, to surmount the ridge and descend into the valley of the Lac d'Anterne.
This is wild country. There are sheep, and huge dogs to protect them from wolves, but they are confined to certain grassy areas. Elsewhere you are likely to see chamois, marmots and magnificent bouquetins (or ibex).
Alfred Wills refuge
By late afternoon, after our swim, we were descending a rocky path to the Alfred Wills hut, named after a British mountaineer of the nineteenth century. He fell in love with this green patch rammed up against the 900m cliff of the Fiz and built a chalet. Now there is a loose arrangement of endearing stone barns around a welcoming refuge, serving beers, wine and food. There are sturdy wooden tables outside and hens pecking around your feet.
The refuge in the evening
The meal, in case you are interested, was a choice of a mild chicken curry or a tasty fondu. We washed it down with a wolfy wine from the Languedoc.
A wolfy wine
I'd like to take a break at this point to talk about the fabulous and extraordinary flora of the Fiz. Others, better qualified, would give you the bloom by bloom analysis, the rarities and the commonplace, but I can tell you about the abundance, the ground embroidered with colour, the greedy bees, the giddy butterflies and the joy of it all.
Embroidered hillside, a few minutes out of Alfred Wills
I loved the Great Masterwort (Astrantia Major, I believe) that seemed to grow here as thick as a crop, and the woolly-headed seed tops of the Alpine Pasqueflower.
Great Masterwort
Alpine Pasqueflower
The route rounds the imposing stern of the Rochers des Fiz, dips down to a well-named river, the Torrent du Sales, and follows it up a deep valley walled by cliffs. As we entered this canyon, a grey canopy of clouds drifted over, clouds which squirted enough rain to persuade us to pull out anoraks and rucksack covers. Wiser walkers donned light, waterproof ponchos, covering body and pack together and taking moments to put on and take off.
And they did come off because the rain faded, the valley lit up and we could appreciate a line of cascades and waterfalls along the torrent.
In the valley
Halfway up
Near the crest, leading to summer pastures
We crested the head of the valley and entered a wholly different landscape. The punctuation point was a tiny 17th Century chapel built into the rock. The path led on to a collection of wooden huts, the Refuge de Sales, then to a wide, tray-shaped vale filled with happy cows chomping the summer away (the Grand Pré), along Bear's Valley (Combe de l'Ours) and over a stone-strewn landscape toward a high pass, the Col de la Portette, that offered an escape to lower ground.
Different? Well, different - yes - because what we saw were wide areas of limestone flatness, the stone broken by deep faults and cavities and worn into rounded shapes by wind, rain, snow and flowing, dripping water.
Anyone who has visited North Yorkshire and seen the limestone pavements of the Dales, especially around Malham, will know exactly what was going on here. The formations looked very similar to me. Flowers forced their way between the upcrops in bulging, busy bundles.
The going began to feel tougher at this point. It was well into the afternoon of the second day and we were faced with the short but steep trudge up to the Col.
Col de la Portette, 2,354m
On the far side of the Portette we looked down on our night-time hidey-hole, the Refuge de Platé (and the wide, green Vally of the Arve in the distance). The hut is slap in the middle of what is known as the Désert de Platé refuge, in a remarkable position amid a jumble of rocks and guarded by at least five footsure bouquetins. These normally shy animals risked coming closer than one would expect in order to reach a licking stone near the refuge. Was it packed with salt or calcium? I don't know - I didn't lick it.
Refuge de Platé
Here is a link to the reel I made of the bouquetins dancing up and down the cliff behind the refuge. We saw another big group on the way down to the valley the next morning. Cliffs are nothing to these agile beasts.
The Refuge de Platé lacks the charm of the Alfred Wills but it is a fun place to stay and the nosh was sustaining. The rain arrived in buckets late in the day, which made it a welcome place of shelter with plenty of tables available for quenching thirst, reading or playing hearts.
Refuge de Plate
Sleeping area. 'Nuff said.
I won't go on about the descent the next day. There is a sheer drop down the front of the Fiz, which you negotiate via a tightly winding path. It's easier than it looks. We passed the car park at Plaine Joux, took a look at the picturesque Lac Vert and continued through steep woods, seeing a couple more tiny lakes, before arriving at Vieux Servoz just as our knees were saying "No more!"
The Rochers des Fiz towering behind Vieux Servoz
It's a village of beautiful old farms and chalets, with a water fountain to dip your boiling head in. More important, it is 20 minutes from the train stop and has a couple of bar-restaurants for a welcome beer.
Oh, yes! I promised a comment on whether it is acceptable to swim in the high lakes. People do it but, of course, that doesn't mean it's OK. The Lac d'Anterne is in a nature reserve and the flora and fauna live in a delicate balance. We were the only ones trying out the water at the time; I think if it became even more popular that balance might be affected. I'm sure readers will have their own views on this. I would say: dip briefly, dip without suncream or anything else on your skin, obey any instructions from rangers, leave no food or waste of any kind. I found a shard of glass at the water's edge, which was sad to see.
On whether this is a suitable trip for you to tackle, I would say: be sensible. You need to be happy about hiking up and down all day, at altitude, descending steep and narrow paths and scrambling over the occasional pile of rocks. If you choose to approach the route via the Brévent cable car, above Chamonix, there are some metal ladders to negotiate on the way down. They're not long, but nor are they everyone's cup of tea.
Remember, also, that we did this at the beginning of August in reasonable weather. Friends have toiled around the Fiz in early summer and run into difficult snow. At any time, if you encounter a storm, it's not going to be pleasant.
But I'd recommend the Tour des Fiz as a fabulous walk: along ancient paths, through surprising scenery and with welcoming refuges. A mini-alternative to the Tour du Mont Blanc. Enjoy it!
Me starting the fabulous Fiz with Mont Blanc behind
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