Chamoni"X" and altitude sickness

After leaving the wonders of Berlin (a cheeky stop there after Warsaw), having again been entranced by the diverse nature of life there, I was surprised to see how quickly I forgot about that upon arrival back in Paris. It is no small wonder that each and every time I end up back in Paris I quickly remember why I find it so alluring. The fact that I can speak the language certainly helps but despite the Parisians who live there, each time I arrive back I am quickly swept back into the Paris culture. After a festive going away party for Gen’s Olivier, which ended up being at one of my favourite bars in the 3rd(from last time), it was a relaxing time catching up with old friends and enjoying a café out doors. The next stage of the travels was planned and I was quickly on a train to the South-East of France, into the French Alps to a place called Chamonix.
After two transfers, I finally boarded the Alpine Express that would take me to Chamonix. The scenery was amazing as the train made its way up and up into the mountains. There was some low-lying cloud that hide some of the mountain peaks, however the views down into the valleys were breathtaking. Upon arrival into town, I walked off to find my hostel, chosen because it was only one located on the map provided. The accommodation was nothing like what was advertised. Breakfast was not included, the internet was down and there was only one toilet per sex in the whole place. However, this mattered little as there were only a couple of people staying and the view from my bed of the Alps was awesome.
Chamonix, elevation 1037m, rests at the base of Mont Blanc, the highest mountain range in Europe. Surprisingly it does not resemble an expensive pen that takes the same name. The permanent snow capped peaks were the biggest things I’ve seen in my life. After settling in and wandering the streets, I took the opportunity to catch the téléphérique (cable-car) up to see Mont Blanc. The ride up to the top, which is called Aiguille du Midi, is done in two stages with the change occurring at Plan de l’Aiguille that lies at 2317m.



The low-lying cloud of the day hid the peak from view. It seemed like we were ascending into the heavens as the cable-car lead lines disappeared into the clouds.



The first thing that I noticed whilst awaiting the second car was the dramatic drop in temperature. I was truly thankful that I had bought 2 jumpers, gloves, beanie and a scarf.
Eventually, we boarded the next car and headed up.



As the cloud cover began to thin, all of a sudden, Mont Blanc appeared. It towered over our destination, the outpost on top of Aiguille du Midi. When we finally reached the top, it was not surprising that the temperature had dropped even further. The outpost consisted of numerous look out points, a café/bar and an elevator that took you to the very top of the outpost that gave you unobstructed panoramic views. It was to this elevator that I headed and after the short trip to the top, I was blown away by the views. At this point I had reached the highest point in my life, some 3842m high.



Surprisingly warm in the direct sunlight, it did not take long for me to shed some layers as I set up my cameras to take some shots. It took about 30 minutes for the altitude to hit and it was a very weird sensation. Remembering things I’d read about alpine climbers, I slowed all motions down, took multiple deep breaths before activities and watched as some people around me collapsed at random intervals! Changing posture was the biggest strain. Every time I changed lens, I was struck by waves of light-headedness that at times threatened to put me on the ground too! Nonetheless I persevered and remained up there taking photos for a good hour and a half. Foolishly, I tried to celebrate my achievement with a cigarette, although after only half I decided that it was not a good idea! The sensation of being on top of the world, coupled with mild altitude sickness and exaggerated by the effects of the cigarette, was further heightened by the cloud cover that kept the valley below from view. Eventually I made my way back down the elevator to grab some food, and the obligatory beer, from the café.
After a thoroughly enjoyable couple of hours at the time, it was time to get back onto the cable car and head back to Chamonix. The first stage back down to Plan de l’Aiguille was uneventful. An initial hic-cup waiting for the next cable car to dock was slightly disconcerting.



The guy checking the cable wheels (the bits connecting the cable car to the cable) was concerning. However, as the car left the dock and literally hurdled towards the first pylon without slowing was close to terrifying, but in a good way. As we shot past the first pylon, trying to force our stomachs back into our abdomen from our throats, myself and the group of soldiers (who’d been doing high-altitude rescue exercises) did the only thing possible….ask for more speed!! Unfortunately our shouted requests were drowned out by the screams of terror by the group of children at the back of the car. Once safely back on solid ground, it was time to surgically remove the children’s hands from the railing before setting off to walk around the streets.
My plans of seeing Annecy and Avignon before heading to Nice were disrupted by my morning routine of getting up before check-out, running to the train station, changing my ticket and getting back to the hostel to book another night. Even after a week of being there, relaxing and frequently looking up to be amazed by the mountain peaks (the weather got a lot better) it was really difficult to leave. The hostel was truly the Hotel California™!!

Mont Blanc:

A weekend foray to Warsaw:

Unfortunately I was left with a couple of spare days and no available accommodation in Berlin. A combination of a huge music festival and the Berlin marathon meant that there was not a spare bed in the city! Rather than getting upset, it was a random decision to jump on a train for Warsaw, the capital of Poland.
After leaving Berlin it quickly became clear that:
1. I had accommodation and knew where it was;
2. I spoke no Polish;
3. Poland was not covered in my guidebook;
4. I had no map of Poland; and
5. I had no idea what was in Poland to see.

On the train ride to Poland, I spent the train trip trying to converse with the friendly Pols who shared the cabin. Trying to enjoy the beer that was literally forced on me, (I was still feeling the effects of post-Oktoberfestitis) I was subjected to the holiday photos of one of the blokes. With the physique of a true truck-driver, which is what he was, the varied shots of him in his budgie-smugglers standing somewhere in Europe were more than painful to the eye. However, he was a friendly fella who only meant well and was kind enough to insist on making sure I got off at the correct station.
Given that I was arriving at 2230 on a Friday night, the area around the station was full of people. Being wary around train stations is very important, particularly late at night and so I wasted no time in getting to my hostel that was a 20 minute hike. Dominating the central square near the train station was a monolithic building that towered above everything else. It reminded me of something out of Gotham City and half the time, while staring at it, I was expecting to see the Bat signal illuminating the clouded sky.
The main attractions of Warsaw were????? Well anyway I spent the whole of the next day wandering the streets of the new “Old Town”. During the war, Warsaw coped a bit, to say the least. The entire old town of Warsaw was levelled and in the time since, the Old City has been faithfully reconstructed to what it was in its glory times. Despite the fact that it is new, the detail of the reconstruction retains a charm that equates to what it must have originally been. Without realising it, the day was gone as the sun began to sink back into the horizon. If I had known there was more to see I might have been disappointed that I’d managed only one thing, however since I knew no better, as I got onto the train early the next day, I figured I’d had a good weekend away.

The end of Matman and Robin:

After a Saturday that saw the 4 Aussies regroup for round 2, al biet more subdued, it was eventually a sad goodbye to half the team, namely Mel and Anne. As such it was up to Robin and I to fly the flag which we managed to do with pride. The following day it was time for the Matman and Robin show to close the curtain as we each continued on our own individual itineraries. After what ended up being a four week journey, having initially planned just for 2, it was strange to say goodbye. Both used to solo travel, acquaintances and colleagues at best before meeting in Paris it seemed an odd mix at the start. However, having survived 4 solid weeks of sharing dorms, meals and travel it truly was saying goodbye to a great mate when she left. It may be that the Matman and Robin show gets an encore in Paris in November but we will all have to stay tuned for that one.



It was with weary legs and liver that I got onto the train bound for Berlin. Made more arduous because of my missing iPod™ (it has to be somewhere) I arrived back in Berlin in true fashion which meant that I had not organised accommodation. Undeterred, I headed back to the hostel that Robin and I had stayed in previously and thankfully managed to convince them to give me lodging for the next 3 days.
After an early night it was off to finish Berlin. A glorious day of sunshine, a backpack of fruit and water and I was set for a patient day of photography at the Wall. Patience was clearly the most important aspect of my day as I waited for an hour for the right light and, more importantly, the right subject. Eventually, I got my shot of feet symbolically crossing over the wall and ventured off to the Pergamon museum. Located within the Pergamon museum were faithful reconstructions of ancient Byzantine and Babylonian structures. For the next few hours I wandered through the massive structures trying to gain an appreciation of their grandeur. Reconstructed from ruins donated to the German Kaiser, the impressive altars and façades towered inside the building built especially to accommodate them.
Finally, I made it down to the Eastside Gallery. The gallery is the longest remaining section of the Wall and was been preserved because of graffiti covering both sides of it. On the old Western side, artists painted with hopes of peace and re-unification. The Eastern side was darker and resembled more traditional graffiti. Nestled between the Eastern side and the river were a number of bars catering for the “beaches” placed there. People reclined in deck chairs or on beach towels as they soaked up the sunshine as if the sanded area really was a beach!!
After my second venture to Berlin, it was very easy to see and feel the attraction of the big city. With the seeds already planted from the previous visit, the crops had certainly begun to flourish on this one.