Читать книгу The Mountain Hut Book - Kev Reynolds - Страница 12
Оглавление2 Hut life
An overcrowded hut often means a poor night’s rest… On the other hand some huts are absolute havens of stillness and calm…
(John Barry, Alpine Climbing)
You don’t have to be a member of an Alpine Club to stay in a mountain hut, for the vast majority are open to all-comers, whether privately owned or belonging to one of the national mountaineering organisations. Most are staffed during the main summer season, which usually extends from late June until the end of September – opening dates depend on location, altitude and, in some cases, the depth of the previous winter’s snow – while some are also open for a few weeks in the late winter/spring ski-touring season. A growing number in the most popular districts are occupied all year round. When manned, meals and drinks will be on offer; but off-season, when there’s no warden in residence, there will often be a ‘winter room’ available, containing little more than a few basic necessities like bunks, blankets and perhaps a wood-burning stove and a supply of fuel. At such times, the water supply may be a long way off, leading to a search for a spring or stream, or, when the ground is blanketed in snow, may involve having to melt snow or ice.
At the beginning of the season, the Coaz Hut in the Bernina Alps may be half hidden by a wall of snow
There are also those simple unguarded refuges, usually located in a remote district, where facilities are minimal and you need to carry practically everything with you, including stove, fuel and food. A friend and I once arrived at a very basic bivvy hut lodged high in the mountains, to find the door blocked by avalanche debris. It took an hour to dig a way in, only to find it contained nothing more than a few candle stubs and a box of damp matches. It was late spring, and the floor was covered in ice. A mass of snow had come down the chimney and frozen into a dome in front of the fireplace, and we found it warmer to sit outside on the roof to cook and eat. After we’d gone to bed on mattress-free boards, an avalanche targeted the hut and in the morning we had to dig our way out through the window.
Where possible, huts are now providing smaller family-sized rooms
Matratzenlager (mattress rooms) like this one are common throughout the Alps
Old-style bunk beds in the Totalp Hut in Austria’s Rätikon Alps
Fortunately, we’d planned to be self-sufficient for a couple of weeks of climbing and were able to make the most of the experience. But it is important, when planning a mountain trip – especially out of season – to do your homework first. Will the huts be open and manned? Will there be room? What facilities can be expected? Are meals provided?
Decorative desserts are served by the warden at Berghaus Bäregg above Grindelwald, despite its remoteness
In most huts there will be no choice of menu, but what you get will be both filling and tasty
Guidebooks are usually the best initial source of information on the existence and location of huts, but an increasing number of refuges now have their own websites giving up-to-date details so you can gain an idea of what to expect before finalising your plans. (See Appendix B for a list of alpine huts and their websites.) If, for example, you don’t like the idea of sharing a dormitory with strangers, check out those huts that have smaller bedrooms with two, four or six bunks. Some have fresh bed linen supplied, although the cost of an overnight stay in a small room is likely to be a little higher than for dormitory accommodation, but you may feel that a degree of privacy is worth the extra money.
Even dormitories vary, not only in size, but in the type of sleeping arrangement on offer. The traditional Matratzenlager – or ‘mattress room’ – is a large communal space with a row of anything from 8 to 30 mattresses laid side by side, while other more conventional dorms have two-tiered bunk beds. Pillows and duvets or blankets are provided, but for purposes of hy-giene you must either use your own sheet sleeping bag or rent one on arrival. As there’s no segregation of the sexes, a
‘a certain amount of discretion is needed when sharing a dormitory full of strangers’
certain amount of discretion is needed when sharing a dormitory full of strangers, but anything more decorous than a long T-shirt as nightwear will be out of place.
If you’ll be sleeping in a dormitory, the hut keeper may specify which bed space you should occupy, but if you’re free to choose, try to get a place near the window and away from the door. If you have a bunk by the window you can control the air flow at night, but should you find yourself near the door, be prepared for disturbance by early risers. And keep a head torch under your pillow, for it’ll be handy if you need to get up in the middle of the night for a call of nature. Most hut generators are turned off after lights-out, the bathroom may be located outside, and getting lost on the way is not to be recommended.
Bathroom facilities vary greatly. The best – and for practical reasons these will usually be found in huts located either in or within easy access of a valley – will have hot showers (mostly coin- or token-operated) and plentiful running water. Although seldom sufficient to serve the number of visitors, toilets in these ‘valley huts’ will be as good as those found in modest hotels, but the higher the hut, the more basic or primitive the toilets are likely to be, and more limited the opportunities for washing. There are exceptions, of course, and standards are improving year by year.
Some of the more modern huts have Wi-Fi access, but don’t automatically assume that this is the case. It is also worth noting that not all huts have power sockets in which to charge mobile phones or other portable electronic devices, so you should plan your needs accordingly.
Alpenglow on Eiger, Mönch and Jungfrau seen from the Suls-Lobhorn Hut
Advance booking is essential if you wish to stay in a popular region during the high season, and it is becoming increasingly common for some huts to be fully booked several weeks or even months ahead – those in national parks and the Mont Blanc range, for example. Reservations can be made either through a central booking system such as that used by trekkers on the Tour of Mont Blanc (www.autourdumontblanc.com), or directly with individual huts by telephone. If, like me, you’re no linguist, valley-based tourist offices will usually make a booking for you, but if you’ve left it until the last minute, some hut wardens will often phone ahead to the next refuge on your behalf. However, should you decide to make a call from your mobile phone while in the mountains, be aware that it’s not always possible to get a signal.
This happened to my publisher, Jonathan Williams, and me when trekking the Tour of the Oisans one summer. Our initial plan had been to find somewhere to stay overnight in a village on the far side of a high pass, but we were checking an alternative to the standard route and misjudged the time it would take to get there. We decided to call a hut we’d be passing en route to book a couple of beds for the night. Unable to get a signal for either of our mobile phones, we arrived unannounced in the late afternoon and were met with a very frosty reception from the refuge gardienne (warden), who made us wait outside for half an hour like badly behaved schoolboys until she ‘discovered’ she had enough room and let us in. It was an unnecessary display of ‘gardienne power’ as the refuge was only half full, but she made her point and we learned our lesson.
In the end it turned out to be a memorable experience, for the woman in charge soon dropped her fearsome facade, produced an excellent meal and entertained us with tales of her adventures in the Himalaya. Outside, the alpenglow was truly magical, as neighbouring
‘the alpenglow was truly magical, as neighbouring mountains turned to bronze’
mountains turned to bronze and were reflected in a nearby lake. We wouldn’t have had any of that if we’d made it to the village as planned.
While few huts outside the honeypot districts will be fully booked in advance, it is a matter of courtesy to call a day or two before your planned arrival as it gives the staff an idea of how many to cater for. Make sure you arrive in good time wherever possible, and it goes without saying that, if your plans change, you should phone the hut at the earliest opportunity to cancel a prior booking, otherwise walkers or climbers may be turned away unnecessarily – and the hut keeper loses income. In extreme cases, it may lead to the mountain rescue being called out to search for you.
The busiest times, of course, are in the high season and at weekends during fine weather, when pressure on bed space is to be expected. Some wardens deal with the prospect of overcrowding by providing overflow accommodation in an annexe which may, or may not, consist of a conventional building with four walls and a roof. So I was not surprised when the guardian at the Refuge de la Leisse (www.refugedelaleissevanoise.com) in the Vanoise Alps told me on the phone that he was fully booked, but would find space for me and my two friends in his tented annexe. At least, that’s what I thought he said – but my French is notoriously poor, so when we arrived and saw only the same three buildings that I remembered from my previous visit, and no marquee-like tent nearby, I began to wonder.
‘Don’t worry,’ said the guardian, ‘I will show you to your sleeping places in a little while.’
Half an hour later he was seen pushing a wheelbarrow up a steep slope and over a bluff, where I discovered him unloading a two-man tent and a couple of mattresses onto a patch of grass.
‘Voilà!’ he said. ‘It’s all yours. Three men, two mattresses. You will be good friends, I think.’
Advance booking should make overcrowding a rare occurrence – in theory, at least. But practice is sometimes different from theory. When an Austrian hut is completely full, the warden (Hüttenwirt) may allocate emergency sleeping places (Notlager) if, say, there’s no time for a new arrival to reach alternative shelter. In such cases, a dormitory floor, a passageway or even the space beneath a table in the dining room (Gaststube) may be used as a bed. If such a prospect appals you, and it’s privacy you’re after, you’d better turn tail and head for a valley hotel, or grab a bivvy bag and find an overhanging rock to sleep under.
House rules
Having selected a hut for the night, made your booking and arrived in good time, the first thing to do before you enter the main building is remove your outdoor boots and place them along with your trekking poles on one of the racks you’ll find in the boot room or entrance porch. There will often be a supply of ‘hut shoes’ to change into. They could be plastic Croc-style shoes, floppy old mules or even old-fashioned clogs, all of which will be available in various sizes. If you don’t fancy these, pack your own lightweight slippers to wear inside the building. But don’t risk upsetting the warden by clomping through the hut in your walking boots, and if outer clothing is wet, hang waterproofs from racks in the boot room or, if there’s a drying room, leave them there.
Auberge de Bionnassay on the Tour of Mont Blanc is a typical gîte d’étape with facilities similar to those found in mountain huts
No room at the inn
In the 1960s I worked for a while in the Engadine Valley, with the Bernina and Bregaglia Alps as near neighbours: snow and ice mountains in one direction, soaring rock peaks in another. Two years after I’d finished working there, I returned to introduce my 3½-month-old daughter to the Alps. Years later she remembers nothing of that visit…
Leaving my wife and daughter with friends down in the valley, I set off alone for Piz Languard, that modest 3200m walkers’ mountain that rises above Pontresina with its classic view of the Bernina range, where I hoped to capture the magic of sunset and sunrise from the top.
Perched some 80m below the summit, the Georgy Hut was buzzing with voices when I arrived that September evening to be greeted by the guardian with a less-than-enthusiastic welcome. ‘There is no room,’ he growled. ‘We are full; no beds. You should have made a reservation.’
‘I don’t need a bed,’ I told him; ‘just a drink. That’s all.’
‘It will be dark before you are halfway down to Pontresina.’ His attitude was disdainful, and the look on his face spoke more than words. Taking the hint, I stooped to pick up my rucksack and slung it on my shoulder.
‘I’m not going down tonight,’ I said. ‘Forget the drink. I’m going up.’
He followed me to the door. ‘Where are you going?’ he demanded.
‘As I said, I’m going up. To the summit. That’s where I’ll spend the night.’
‘Zum Gipfel? There is no shelter on the summit!’ Then his voice softened. ‘Look, come back. I will find a space for you somewhere.’
But I was on my way then, and called over my shoulder: ‘I told you – I don’t need a bed. I have all I want on my back.’
All I heard then was an ill-tempered huff, the slamming of a door and the tapping of my own boots on rock.
It wasn’t long before I’d pitched my tent on the very summit and sat in its entrance to capture the sun sliding into a far horizon, relishing the moment as the snowy symmetrical perfection of Piz Palü blushed and outshone her more illustrious neighbours. It was one of the best of all sunsets.
What’s more, I had it all to myself.
Locate the warden/hut keeper, who will probably be found in the kitchen. Check in, and show your Alpine club membership or reciprocal rights card, if you have one, to claim a discount on your overnight fee. This is valid only in huts with reciprocal arrangements. (For more information on Alpine clubs, see Chapter 5). You don’t speak the language? Don’t worry; before you arrange your holiday, learn a few very basic phrases and you’ll be OK. Many wardens speak some English, but if they don’t, you’ll get by anyway. (The glossary in Appendix C lists a few key words.)
Now’s the time to order any meals required, including packed lunches for the following day, and make a note of when they’ll be served. The warden will probably outline any house rules, and may ask you to sign a visitors’ book (the Hut Book), which keeps a log of where you came from and where you’re going next day. You will be shown to your room and allocated bed space, the location of which – in climbers’ huts – may depend on the time you plan to leave in the morning. In huts where rucksacks are not allowed in the dormitories, you may be given a basket in which to keep overnight essentials. As the hut’s generator will be turned off after lights-out, don’t forget to keep a head torch handy in case you need to get up in the night or make an early departure. To avoid disturbing others, you should pack or unpack your rucksack outside the dorm.
It’s a good idea to keep a tally of food and drinks bought during your stay. In most huts, you will be asked to settle your bill the night before you leave, and as credit and debit cards are not accepted in all huts, you’d be advised to take plenty of ready cash with you.
At the majority of huts, a supply of ‘hut shoes’ will be found in the boot room or porch
A summary of hut conventions
Treat huts, hut keepers and fellow hut users with respect.
Wherever possible, reserve your accommodation in advance. Once booked, if your plans change for any reason, it is essential to phone the hut to cancel.
On arrival, leave boots, trekking poles and wet outer clothing in the boot room or porch. Select a pair of ‘hut shoes’ to wear indoors.
Locate the hut keeper to announce your arrival. Show your Alpine Club membership card or reciprocal rights card, if you have one, to claim a discount on overnight fees, and book meals and any packed lunches required for the next day. If you have dietary requirements, make these known as early as possible.
Once your room and bed space have been allocated, make your bed using a sheet sleeping bag. Keep a head torch handy, as the hut’s generator will usually be turned off after lights-out. Be considerate of others and avoid unnecessary noise in the dormitories.
While snacks and drinks are usually available during the day, meals are served at set times, and places at table are sometimes allocated by the hut keeper.
It is customary to pay for all services the night before leaving.
Before departure, leave your room tidy by folding blankets or duvets, and take all litter away with you.
Sleeping and eating
At most manned huts, something resembling a restaurant-style service will be available during the day, although a set menu is the norm for breakfast and the evening meal. The majority of hut users choose half-board (bed, breakfast and evening meal), which virtually guarantees a substantial three- or four-course dinner when you really need it. Mealtimes vary from hut to hut, but dinner is usually served between 6pm and 7.30pm. And what sort of meals might you expect? Well, perhaps not haute cuisine, except in its most literal sense, for the last thing you need after a long day in the hills is a large plate with minuscule portions of decorated artwork masquerading as a culinary treat. Mountain activities burn a lot of calories, so hut meals are usually planned with this in mind, with plenty of carbohydrate such as pasta being served. In huts owned by sections of the Austrian Alpine Club (Österreichischer Alpenverein, ÖAV), a choice of menu is sometimes given. In addition to the items listed, a relatively low-priced Bergsteigeressen (literally ‘mountaineer’s meal’) containing a minimum of 500 calories will be available to members of the ÖAV or its UK branch, the AAC. There’s no choice as to what goes in it though, and the contents vary considerably, so you do tend to take pot luck and hope for the best. But it will be filling.
Gathered round communal tables at mealtimes, hut users have a perfect opportunity to share experiences and route information, as at Refuge de la Flégère above Chamonix
Supplies for the Triglav Lakes Hut in Slovenia arrive on horseback
Outside Austria, it is rare for alpine huts to offer a choice of menu. Those who have ordered meals are usually served at large communal tables, with individual places allocated by the guardian. These mealtimes tend to be enjoyable and sometimes noisy occasions with an opportunity for visitors to get to know one another; when extra busy, two separate sittings may be needed. Jugs of drinking water are provided, and beer and wine are usually available.
The evening meal (dinner) invariably begins with a huge tureen of soup and chunks of bread, followed by the main course which is often based around spaghetti, rice, polenta (in Italy) or potatoes, with meat of one kind or another served with tinned vegetables. In Slovenia it could be a form of stew or goulash served with sauerkraut. In Switzerland you might have rösti (potato cakes) with a fried egg on top; or maybe raclette (melted cheese with potatoes boiled in their jackets). In French and Swiss huts, fresh salad or local cheeses often follow the main course, after which there’ll be a simple dessert such as chocolate mousse or crème brûlée. Blueberry tart is a favourite in many districts. Given advance warning, vegetarians can be catered for, although expectations should not be raised too high as the simplest option will often be taken by the hut staff, who, as Gillian Price points out in her guidebook Through the Italian Alps: The Grande Traversata delle Alpi, ‘have to be capable of dealing with everything from a blocked toilet, frozen pipes, refilling a diesel-powered generator, lugging firewood and provisions up steep stairs, repairing pumps and solar panels, organising rescue operations…and are expected to be gourmet chefs as well!’
A hut warden, then, is a Jack (or Jill) of all trades, with ‘cook’ being just one part of the job description. Love of the mountains is what entices them to spend several months of the year lodged above the clouds far from the nearest shop, and in doing so they must be prepared to meet numerous challenges undreamed of by chefs in the kitchens of valley hotels. With supplies being delivered by costly helicopter – in some cases perhaps just once or
‘A hut warden is a Jack (or Jill) of all trades, with “cook” being just one part of the job description’
twice in a three-month season – or on the back of a mule or by a basic goods lift, where one exists, the variety and freshness of ingredients may be somewhat limited. This Jack of all trades must conjure up three-course meals for ravenous mountaineers from whatever is available, so his (or her) repertoire may not be an extensive one – although it could prove to be rather imaginative when supplies are running low. I know of several huts on popular trekking routes where the main meal served to visitors is exactly the same every night of the season. But since the majority of guests stay only one night at a time, this hardly matters, and for anyone spending a second or third consecutive night, simple alternative options are usually rustled up.
When you consider the nature of mountain activities, and the very early start required for some of them, it’s not surprising that most of us are happy to get our heads down and toes up before the night is old, so guardians will often enforce a silent period (known as Hüttenruhe in German-speaking Alps) between 10pm and 6am to limit disturbance by the early risers – especially in high mountain huts inhabited by climbers, where the most ambitious are likely to be up and away long before 6am or, at the very least, an hour or more before dawn.
Catching the last of the evening sunlight, walkers and climbers relax outside the Carschina Hut in the Swiss Rätikon Alps
To avoid disturbing other hut users in the early morning scrum, baskets are often provided for those essential items needed indoors, so rucksacks, ice axes, crampons, climbing ironmongery and ropes can be left in the boot room in readiness for a pre-dawn start. It’s here that you need to keep your gear together so you know where to find it, for as John Barry points out, not entirely tongue-in-cheek, in his book Alpine Climbing, it’s all too easy in the bleary-eyed post-breakfast melee for someone to take the wrong ice axe – especially if it’s better than their own – ‘and it is not unknown for boots to walk away on the wrong feet.’
In climbers’ huts, the serving of breakfast is often scheduled according to the needs and chosen routes of the users, so one breakfast sitting may be at 4am, while another will be served two or three hours later. On occasion, and by arrangement, the guardian will leave a Thermos of hot drink and bread wrapped in cling film for those wanting to start their route at an even more ungodly hour. Since few climbers have much of an appetite at that time of day (or night), a couple of slices of dry bread and jam, cheese or salami, washed down with a bowl of warm coffee or weak tea, will be endured rather than enjoyed. A gourmet experience before a pre-dawn start to a climb need not be anticipated. On the other hand, breakfast arrangements are much more relaxed and flexible in huts used by trekkers and walkers, with food and drink often being available from 6–8am.
The Aljažev dom in the Julian Alps of Slovenia makes a fine destination or overnight stop on the way to Triglav, which rises steeply above (Photo: Jonathan Williams)
Breakfasts are the standard ‘continental’ style, consisting of a few slices of bread and butter with jam, dried meat or cheese, and bowls of coffee, tea or hot chocolate. Cereals with milk are sometimes available, however, and in huts that are accessible from a road, it’s not unusual to find fresh fruit and yogurt also on offer. Some climbers I know carry a bag of muesli pre-mixed with milk powder and, by simply adding water, manage to enhance the hut warden’s breakfast offering; but if you’re used to bacon and eggs before a day on the hill, you’re out of luck here.
Packed lunches can usually be arranged if ordered the night before they’re needed. Although comparatively expensive, in my experience the contents are often sufficient to feed two, while in all but the most remote climbers’ huts, a restaurant service provides midday
‘A gourmet experience before a pre-dawn start to a climb need not be anticipated’
snacks or lunches for passing walkers or early arrivals. Canned or bottled drinks are on sale in virtually every staffed hut, although prices are invariably higher than you’d pay in the valleys. In Austria and Slovenia it’s not unusual for visitors to bring a supply of tea bags or coffee sachets with them, and buy a litre of hot water (Teewasser/vroca voda) from the warden to make their own drinks. In a number of Austrian and Swiss huts the warden will provide a supply of Marschtee (usually sweetened fruit tea) with which to fill your flask before leaving, at no extra cost.
There are no facilities for self-catering in most staffed huts, although there are exceptions, such as refuges managed by the French Alpine Club (Fédération Française des Clubs Alpins et de Montagne, FFCAM) which often have a room or a corner of a room set aside for visitors to prepare their own food on their own stoves as an alternative to having meals provided by the guardian. As a form of compromise, the Swiss Alpine Club (Schweizer Alpen-Club, SAC) has a rule that for a small charge, staff will cook the food a visitor has brought with them, as long as it’s simple and can be quickly heated. But this facility is rarely taken, and even more rarely welcomed by the staff themselves, as it can be extremely inconvenient during busy periods.
A special breed
Of course, huts are not always busy, even in the height of summer among some of the most sought-after summits, for on occasion bad weather rolls in, and remains for days or even weeks at a time. Climbers desert the peaks, flee to the valleys or go in search of sunshine elsewhere. Living among rock, snow or ice way above the valley can then be a lonely existence for wardens, marooned as they are, isolated far from company. So when I appeared dripping with rain at the Rothorn Hut one day, midway through a spell of grim weather, the warden greeted my arrival with surprise. Some 1600m above Zermatt, a casual visitor that summer was a rarity.
‘Where on earth have you come from?’ she asked, then apologised. ‘Sorry,’ she said, ‘but I wasn’t expecting visitors. Haven’t seen anyone for a week and certainly didn’t imagine anyone would arrive today.’ What she failed to say was, ‘I didn’t imagine anyone would be foolish enough to come all this way to see nothing but rain and fog,’ and I didn’t bother to explain that I had a book to write and could not afford to sit around in Zermatt twiddling my thumbs until the sun shone.
But imagine – living in the clouds at 3200m and seeing no one for a week! You need a focus to your days, and a lack of imagination, to put up with the isolation when storms explode all around your home.
‘Any chance of a bowl of soup?’ I asked. The smell coming from her kitchen was a reminder of just how long it had been since I’d eaten breakfast. In my rucksack I had a couple of cheese rolls, two bananas and some chocolate, but the prospect of soup had me salivating.
It tasted as good as it smelled; a thick lentil and vegetable soup flavoured with garlic and spices hot enough to steam my glasses. She apologised for the age of the bread, so I told her I had my own and took out the food I’d brought with me. When she saw the two bananas, her eyes popped. She hadn’t seen fresh fruit all summer, so when I offered them to her I knew I’d made a friend for life.
