As we reached Refuge Col de Balme, the mist was swirling around us, and the clouds were drifting over the high passes as dusk approached. Our path was blocked by a herd of cattle with large bells clanging around their necks. We stepped off the trail into the brush to let them pass, unsure if they might try to nudge us out of the way.

A bit further on, we found the Refuge in darkness, but a car was parked outside. I walked around and eventually, an elderly man came to the window. When he asked what I wanted, I explained that I had called to reserve a place. He opened the front door and showed us where to leave our rucksacks inside.

The dining room was warm from a metal stove in the middle of the floor, and my hands began to thaw out. We seemed to be the only hikers there, and an elderly lady served us hot tea from the bar. For supper, we had a simple meal of ham omelette, green salad, local cheese, and bread, followed by a blueberry tart.

Shortly after, three other hikers arrived: two men and a teenage boy who had come from Champex in the opposite direction. We compared notes and realized we both had trouble booking the Refuge. It seemed the couple running it were not keen on taking reservations. The lady showed us to the dormitories upstairs, where the electric lights only reached the stairwell and turned off automatically after a few minutes. Thankfully, we had head torches.

The lady brought us three blankets for the night, an extra one for my friend Julia, who wasn’t feeling well due to the altitude. I politely asked if I could also have an extra blanket, but she said there was no need as the three men would be in the dormitory with us, and we would all soon get warm. I wondered if the men might be in a separate room, but she dismissed the idea, saying the other rooms were closed for the season.

The toilet was just down the corridor, with a tap near the floor to fill a washing-up bowl and act as a sink. We were relieved we didn’t have to go outside into the freezing cold to use the portaloo meant for daytime visitors.

I went to bed fully clothed and lay awake for a few hours trying to get warm, draping my coat and spare fleece over me. In the morning, we discovered a second bathroom that the lady hadn’t mentioned. We hurried down to breakfast, which consisted of coffee and baguette with jam.

With our rucksacks packed, we set off along the path that skirted the mountainside, pausing to admire the view of Mont Blanc, its snow-capped peaks framed by a blue sky.

Later that day, we arrived at Chalet Bon Abri after crossing into Switzerland and reaching Champex Lac by hitchhiking, bus, and train. Just above the lake, we saw a tipi in a flower-filled garden and some campers playing table tennis. This place was a well-run Swiss hostel in a wooden chalet style, but everything inside was stylish and modern.

The lady showed us where to leave our boots downstairs and pointed to neatly stacked pairs of plastic clogs we could borrow to wear indoors. Upstairs, our dorm room had three bunks, but luckily we had the room to ourselves. The red-checked quilts and orange sheets looked invitingly cozy. Just down the corridor, there was a spotless new shower room with hot water, but since dinner was served promptly at 7 pm, we went down straight away.

We enjoyed an aperitif of white wine with cheesy wafer biscuits, followed by homemade carrot soup and chicken in a wine sauce. We examined the route we had just taken on the topographic map on the wall, which was perfect for planning our route for next year when we hope to walk another leg of the Tour de Mont Blanc from Champex Lac to Courmayeur.

Is it better to be high in the mountains with basic facilities or down in the valley with more comfort? Let’s just say we’re planning to start our walk from Chalet Bon Abri next year, and I can’t wait!