Yet another cloudless blue sky greeted us when we got up at 6am, ready for another day on the TMB. We had eaten well, but slept poorly in the rather cramped wedge-roofed dormitory of Elisabetta. We woke up early, as the day promised grandiose views of the eastern versant of Mont Blanc and we wanted to take all of those in before the clouds built up (as appeared to be the pattern developing on our walk).

Just beyond the lake, we made a short side-trip, climbing up the jumbled lateral morain of the Glacier du Miage to see the Lac du Miage, formed in a hollow from the meltwaters of the grey, debris-covered glacier, whose blackened ice-face fronted the green-grey lake in a spectacular setting.

The meltwaters in fact made the ford higher up across this stream impassable (wet boots are no fun in the alps), forcing us to climb even higher to leap across three smaller braids. Fortunately, it wasn't wasted effort as the track continued to climb steeply up on the other side of the torrent to reach the Alpe Superieur d'Arpe Vieille and its small stone chalet. All along the climb, the view westward over the Val Veni to the massif had expanded as we ascended.

Leaving Mont Favre, with its cliffs of brittle shale, we quickly descended to a broad sweeping basin, crossing a series of big snow plaques and working our way to the north on a long traverse. Back over the Val Veni, the gravel-covered forked tongue of Glacier du Miage formed a sweeping curve down from the pristine white jumble of the upper glacier. Ahead lay the ski fields of Courmayeur. Crossing the snowless pistes, we reached a beautiful section of larch forest. It was so nice to be amongst trees again after two days above the tree-line.

Soon after, the track led us down to the Col de Checrouit, where the Refuge de Maison Vieille sheltered beneath the rocky peak that had guided our route. With the rock walls and gleaming white upper glaciers of the massif above and the receding blue hazed ranges deeper into Italy on the opposite side, it was the perfect place for lunch, particularly since it was becoming very warm.

Our final section for the day was the descent into Courmayeur, gentle at first as the track took us past the savoyard hamlet of Pra Neiron and down the ski slopes. Small birds twittered, butterflies flitted languidly between the wildflowers and even lizards were out in the hot sun.

So after a morning coffee at our penzione, we finally left Courmayeur at 11am for the 770m climb up to Rifugio Bertone. On the TMB that is a short walk! A slow trudge up the road through the villages of Villair-dessous and Villair-dessus, with their typical savoyard houses of stone and slate brought us to the mouth of the Val Sapin. First passing by dense flower-rich herbfields, we entered a fir woodland to climb up steadily beside the fast-running Tsapy Torrent. Just near a bridge crossing it, we had our first rest stop to devour a few fruit jubes for energy and fill up the water bottles. We were already perspiring in the still morning heat of the valley and the real climb was only just about to begin.

Once across the torrent, we left the road to follow a stone-walled track steeply up into the forest. It soon became a zig-zagging footpath, winding up the slope as larch gradually replaced fir.

Old stone wall in the forest

Lunch was declared at 1900m, where we could sit in the shade of the larches with a cooling breeze swirling through their canopy. From here, we could look down on the impressive views over Courmayeur, now far below, and the valleys and mountains beyond.

Looking down on Courmayeur

A slow lunch over, we continued the last 100m of the climb, reaching the alpine meadows of Le Pré, just beneath the crest of the ridge. We were out of the valleys and back in the mountains and it felt good.

The meadows of Le Pre and the pyramid of Mont de la Madonne across a gorge

Emerging from a grove of firs

A little higher up and we were at Rifugio Bertone. It was an inviting refuge - in fact, it invited us to lay back on the deck chairs on the grassy terrace, beer in hand, taking in the views that stretched from the valleys of Courmayeur to the pinnacles of Mont Blanc. Even the fair Nello agreed that this was the best way to relax and let aching legs recover, as we watched the procession of big cumulus clouds and listened to the occasional distant crash of falling ice on the glaciers across the Val Ferret.

By mid afternoon the fair Nello decided that it was time for a siesta, so I went for a stroll up to a viewpoint that looked down over the entry to the Mont Blanc Tunnel - a massive construction project, but so insignificant compared to the mountain above it. The autoroute from the tunnel to Courmayeur passed through a deep and narrow valley separating us from the ridge we had walked yesterday by a stone's throw as the crow flies (to mix my metaphors). All that effort descending into Courmayeur and climbing back up on this side for a couple of kilometres of horizontal progress - oh well, that's the TMB for you.

A little further on, I could see far up the Val Veni to the Col de la Seigne from where we had come, and in the other direction up the Val Ferret to the Col de Ferret, where we were heading. The entire western wall of the two valleys was formed by the peaks and glaciers surrounding Mont Blanc and it was a good way to appreciate the vastness of this massif.

From the junction, the climb was particularly steep, forcing us on to our toes as we zig-zagged slowly up the grassy spur to reach the rounded ridge-top meadows of the Mont de la Saxe. Walking along this long grassy ridge, surrounded by snow-capped mountains on all sides and with the valleys of Courmayeur far below was something special.

To the east, backlit by the early morning sun, the Col du Sapin was silhouetted against the blue-hazed mountains beyond. We strolled the length of the ridge, picking our way along the braided pathways past small lakes (gouilles) that reflected the surrounding peaks. In the distance a flock of sheep grazed on the steep pastures, while overhead a pair of vultures circled in the morning thermals.

On top of Tête de la Tronche (2584m)

However, what goes up must come down, and a very steep loose-rocked path zig-zagged tightly down from the heights of La Tronche to the Col du Sapin.

Beyond the pass lay the mostly snow-covered bowl of the Vallon de Malatra and we continued our slow trudge for another couple of hundred metres of descent in soft and ankle-deep snow. Our boots were soon full of cold wet sludge. By now the cumulus clouds had built up and we were walking between shadow and sun.

Reaching an area of rocky knobs and snow-filled hollows, we briefly lost the path, only to relocate it a few hundred metres later and descend the valley above the green rushing waters of the Torrent de Malatra. Finding a dry rocky outcrop, we stopped to share our lunch with the marmots who called it home. From here, a short descent past the farm buildings of the Alpe Superieure de Malatra brought us to Rifugio Bonatti, looking directly over the valley to the massive rock walls of Les Grandes Jorasses.

We crossed the Torrent de Malatra, passed the falling-down farm buildings of Giue-Degut and headed out on an undulating traverse across the slopes, dense with alpine rhododendrons and other wildflowers and crossing a series of fast-flowing torrents that almost overflowed their stony fords as they rushed down steep gullies to the valley floor below. A startled deer bounded out of the scrub and away, a distant cuckoo commented on our sanity in doing this walk and the ever-changing panorama of peaks and glaciers across and down Val Ferret rolled by as we passed.

Reaching the stone buildings of a farm house, the TMB led us down a series of switchbacks through dense herb-fields and a scrubby cover of tall shrubs to reach the flat and fir-dotted floor of the valley. The Doire Torrent wound its way down through the grassy flats in a wide gravel bed.

Here we joined a gravel road to cross the river and head up to the end of the flats at Arnuva. We were about to start the major climb of the day, 780m up to the Grand Col du Ferret, so it seemed a good time to take a break and eat a bit of energy food.

The rest day had clearly done the fair Nello a lot of good, as she bolted up the calf-burningly steep slope that led us past a misty series of cascades plunging out of the ravine at the mouth of the Val de Bellecombe (she was obviously not carrying enough weight in her pack).

Ever upwards, we crossed a series of strangely dimpled snowdrifts, before making a rather delicate stream crossing at the mouth of a small ravine, on a snow bridge that was being eaten away by the torrent beneath.

Climbing out of the ravine we reached Rifugio Elena on its balcony beneath the Glacier du Pré de Bar, Mont Dolent (the triple point of the French-Italian-Swiss borders) and the Petit and Grand Cols du Ferret - the perfect place for a coffee break.

The Petit and Grand Cols du Ferret

Pushing on, we set up a steady rhythm as the track climbed steeply up a grassy flank to follow the rim of the ravine ever higher. before finally flattening out (almost) to cross marmot-squeaking alpine meadows and arrive at the Grand Col du Ferret - bienvenu en Suisse! We had done the 780m climb in under two hours, which isn't bad for a pair of old farts. Feeling satisfied, we declared a lunch break, but finding the wind too cold in Switzerland, stepped back into Italy to enjoy our sandwiches and fruit together with the vaste views down the Val Ferret, all the way back to the distant Col de la Seigne, which we had crossed to enter Italy four days earlier. It was a good feeling.

On the col - Switzerland to the left, Italy to the right

However, as expected, the clouds were already building up and looked quite ominous over the distant Swiss Alps. It was time to farewell Italy and descend into Switzerland over the many large snowdrifts that filled the large bowl on the north side of the col.

The snowy Swiss versant of the Grand Col du Ferret

After a while, the bowl narrowed into a steep-walled valley, which we traversed high up to continue our steady descent of the deep Revers de la Peula. An even steeper descent brought us to a small restaurant, where we stopped for a cold drink and a quick lesson in Swiss ingenuity in calculating exchange rates between the euro and franc (enough said).

From La Peula, the TMB followed a wide gravel road that wound down the slope to cross the raging Drance du Ferret. On the other side of the bridge, it became a sealed road, heading down the valley through mixed fir and larch forest. Roadwalking is not our favourite past-time and for the first time, despite the pleasant surrounds, we got that "are we there yet?" feeling.