Mon.-Tues. July 20-21.
By train to Munich, Fortezza and San Candido, and a walk up to the Dreischusterhuette for a first Dolomite night. We are in the South Tirol in the NE corner of the Dolomites.

July 22.
Disaster -- in the form of a broken camera dropped on a rock just as I was about to photograph a group of yellow poppies in the middle of a scree slope. This habitat seems to suit them as we found in many places later. But having no camera for ten days did not suit me.
This was on the ascent from the Dreischusterhuette to the Dreizinnenhuette. A floral route. Globe flowers, mountain avens, clematis climbing over alpine roses, white butterwort, soldanella, two sorts of gentian, aquilegia, snapdragon, yellow violet and a sort of St. Olaf's candlestick were among our more unusual finds. And we have still to identify a white daisy and a sort of pale mauve pennycress and a pink willowherb flower growing like heather [later identified as a wild azalea]. This was all in the Innerfeldthal, a flower protected area.
But really rather more obvious and more spectacular than the flowers were the Dolomite peaks surrounding us, with the Tre Scarperi on one side and the Morgenkopf on the other as we temporarily lost the path up the scree and found ourselves scrambling up a stream bed. Already, you see, I have made the obvious confusion between Italian and German due to the fact that everywhere in this part of the world (the province of S. Tirol) has two names and one never knows whether anyone wants to be greeted with 'Buon Giorno' or 'Gruess Gott'. I have called the peak 'Tre Scarperi' and yet referred to the hut as 'Dreischusterhuette'; perhaps 'The Three Cobblers' would have been more explicit after all.
A 3000ft climb and then --- the Tre Cime di Lavaredo, die Drei Zinnen, the Three Peaks --- one of our major objectives came into sight as we topped a pass. The three famous cliffs faced us across a valley, the peaks rising out of their cones of scree. Surely they must be lifesize cardboard cutouts and not real mountains ? Such impossible shapes are normally seen only in fairy book pictures --- each pinnacle with its little cloud forming and reforming round its summit. We lunched and sunbathed and realised we had indeed reached the Dolomites.
Then down past the populous Dreizinnenhuette, and on to a scree traverse on a good path overlooking a little lake fringed with melting snow --- ice blue in places where water covered the snow.
So on to the Buellele Joch (pass) and the Rifugio Cengia at 8000ft, a neat little new and welcoming hut, not an Alpine Club one, where we found ourselves to be the only visitors for the night. An English-speaking German was able to point out various local summits of easy ascent, so we settled ourselves in, even though the prospects of supper were limited to wurst and sauerkraut. This proved to be very edible and welcome after we had explored a small peak nearby riddled with tunnels, steps and passages as a result of Italian defence attempts of the first world war.
Clouds had been developing during the afternoon, threatening thunderstorms, and sure enough around 10pm a spectacular display of lightning watched from our beds and rain pelting on the roof made us glad of our protecting walls. This was the first of three successive evening storms.
I bought a postcard to send home which would start its journey by mule next morning.

July 23.
First to another peak nearby, the Oberbachern Spitze, and then the more spectacular Panetina, reached by a jump across a 4ft wide rift. Not very wide, but it was a good 1000ft deep. Then we made a circuit of the Boeden Knot in order to get back to the Tre Cime for a closer inspection. They really are as awe-inspiring and impressive as the guide books imply. We watched a couple of human flies ascending the north face of the Cima Grande (40ft of climbing in 2 hours) and were quite glad to be in a more horizontal position ourselves.
By next night we had moved on to the Rifugio Zsigmondy-Comici, an over-full hut of the CAI (Italian Alpine Club) where we slept on matratzen on the floor of the communal dormitory.

July 24.
Ascent of Monte Popera from the Rifugio Zsigmondy-Comici.
6.30am start with all our luggage up the scree slope to the Eis See, and here we dumped the major part of our loads. Up the snow-filled Inner Loch valley with no apparent way up the encircling cliffs until a lowering of the summit ridge appeared as the valley curved to the left, revealing a possible path to the top. The snowfield steepened considerably, reaching the top by snow gullies separated by ridges of, we hoped, climbable rock. Footsteps up the snow gave us confidence, but we were glad to reach the base of the rocks and to find a good scrambling route to the top of the ridge. This brought us into the sunshine and 8.30am.
From here, the ridge walk to the summit was easy but spectacular, with thousands of feet of cliff dropping below us on the far side. One more snow patch had to be crossed -- no footsteps, which meant that we were probably the first to the top for at least ten days since the last snow fall.
9.15 at the top (3062m, 10045ft) marked by a cairn supporting a wooden post topped by a pineapple tin (empty). However, the rest of the view was indescribable. A tortoise-shell butterfly was our companion.
At lunchtime down by another hut, the Rifugio Carducci, it was unanimously agreed to have been the best morning for many a long year.
Then a snap decision to abandon plans for the night at this hut and to set off immediately on the long descent to the civilisation of Auronzo by a steep forest path, making a total of 7000 downhill feet in the day. Fatigue was compensated for by a super meal and a night in a pensione and the luxury of a real bed.
The surprise of Auronzo was that no one understood a word of German; we were now in Italy proper, the province of Belluno in fact, and I realised that my Italian vocabulary was very much smaller than my German. More very heavy rain in the night.

July 25.
Auronzo to Rifugio Galassi, starting point for the climb of Monte Antelao.
8.30am bus to San Marco to save a long road walk. Thence a not very well marked path climbing through trees beside a deep gorge. Turk's Cap lilies and yellow primula were noteworthy. And black salamanders. Lunch above the tree line looking at the Torre dei Sabbione, an isolated stalagmite-like peak rising 1500ft above the ridge on which it stands --- 8000ft at its summit. A typical Dolomite 'Tower'. On over the Forcella Grande and Forcella Piccola passes., eventually arriving at the Rifugio Galassi.
Rifugio Galassi: tiny windows, cold, built as a barracks?, no attempt at decoration. Looks on to the Antelao glacier. These cold facts contrasted with the warm and friendly welcome, and we learnt many interesting bits of information about the ascent of Antelao from the stilted English of the resident warden. Best of all, after supper, a party of Italians arrived all set for the ascent at 5am tomorrow. We were invited to join them. One of them was a mountain guide. All this seemed too good to be true.

Sunday, July 26.
Monte Antelao. 3263m, 10750ft.
We set off at 5.30am, a party of 18 led by 'Basil Brush' ---- well, our guide did have a great long broom sticking up out of his rucksack as a contribution to the furniture of the little bivacco near the summit. Route at first on scree with small snow patches; then some moderate climbing up a stratified wall on long traverses. Then acres of slabs covered with loose stones gradually steepening. So to the Bivacco Cosi, a tin hut held by wire ropes to a ledge at about the 10000ft level, with six bunk beds. Once again, tortoise-shell butterflies accompanied us even to this height.
Stop for food (and disposing of tin cans, polythene bags and all other rubbish by adding them to the already considerable pile filling a convenient gully. Litter seems to mean nothing to Italians).
Then, brushless, most of us set off on the final assault. A narrow ridge leading to a sloping scree ledge leading to a horizontal outward-tilted ledge and a short climb to the top of a flat-topped buttress.. Beyond was an icy snow slope. The guide cut minute steps for himself and soon disappeared for a quarter of an hour, leaving us to contemplate the snow, the steps and the few thousand feet drop below. However, he did return, having fixed a rope to help us and also cut new, rather more reassuring steps. So most of us proceeded, myself doubtingly and last; once across the snow, the rope enabled us to negotiate a grade 2 climb with ease, and then followed a final short ridge to the summit.
Here the nine of us who were left duly shook hands all round, signed the summit book and had our pictures took. The cloud which had been swirling about the south side of the mountain now swirled about us too and it was cold. But to the west and north we could look down on San Vito and the valley up to Cortina and the whole range of the Marmarole. And farther northwest was the Marmolada, the highest of the Dolomites, and its great glacier.
And then we had to come down again. 3pm found us back at the rifugio, and soon we were relaxing in the hot sun, lighting a fire to boil up some of our soup specially imported for such an occasion, and then settling down to contemplate the intriguing shapes of the rocks of the Marmarole wall (the Marble wall) towering above us.
A good day.

Supplementary note to meals on mountains: Italians seem to have no objection to carrying great weights of tin cans and even glass jars and bottles of wine; our own mountain meals consist chiefly of a succulent mix of raisins, currants, prunes, peanuts and chocolate all carried in a weightless polythene bag; and perhaps a sandwich --- and glucose tablets.

July 27.
From Rifugio Galassi via San Vito to Rifugio Venezia on Monte Pelmo.
A memorable breakfast on a terrace in the warm sunshine, looking down on to the clouds in the valley below. Then a 3000ft descent into San Vito, a tourist town, where we were able quickly to satisfy our modest shopping needs and then make for the village of Serdes nearby to find a restaurant for another good meal.
This fortified us for the long ascent of the foothills of Monte Pelmo to the Rifugio Venezia. Quite a contrast to Galassi: modern with large picture windows through which we could look back and study yesterday's Monte Antelao with our supper. But there was one drawback: no drop of drinking water, and barely a trickle of any water from the taps. We made journeys to the nearest spring to replenish our water bottle; others just did not drink (water).
On our walk up to the hut butterflies and moths were in great abundance. Speckled wood types, large meadow browns, cinnabar moths and similar ones with orange spots. And a pale mauve flax.
We managed to locate a useful English-speaking guide to tell us about the ascent of Pelmo. It sounded interesting, and definitely on for tomorrow.

July 28.
Monte Pelmo. 10450ft. A 4000ft ascent for us.
Route starting up a scree slope, followed by a long traverse with two or three 'Achtung' places (according to our given description), the chief hazard being a ledge under an overhang. It was necessary to crawl a few yards after using a loop of fixed rope as an essential handhold to reach the ledge. Then a very long scree climb with one or two snow patches, finally climbing up rock into a glacier bowl. Crossing the snow of the glacier took nearly half an hour. Then another short climb and we were on the summit ridge, a dramatic place with a 2000ft drop on the far side. As we sat having lunch on the top two jet planes flashed past a thousand feet below us --- an unusual sight.
A satisfying climb, but the long scree slope made it one of the most laborious. Specially as we were carrying an enormous great borrowed rope, twice as long as would have been necessary even if we had needed it. We had carried it right up to the glacier.
The distant views from the top were clearer than on any previous day. Cloud formed on the south side from time to time but left the top clear. This is the general pattern in the prevailing northerly wind conditions. We were lucky --- northerly winds in the Dolomites mean good weather, southerly bring rain. We wondered how long this view from the top would have to last us before being equalled by another. When next would we be able to see any view from a 10,000ft peak?
[Quite soon]

July 29.
A gentle day, after boiled eggs for breakfast by way of a bit of luxury (the hut kept hens --- and a 6-month old baby --- in spite of no drinking water).
A five hour walk along the top of the tree-line with little ascent or descent until the last 1000ft up to the Rifugio Coldai. We included a three hour stop for lunch on the way to cook soup and complete the relaxed atmosphere of the day. We saw a caterpillars' nest, a conical woven affair supported on grasses, covered with twitching black and yellow caterpillars feeding apparently on bilberry. A nice contrast at this Coldai hut was super-clean toilet facilities with unlimited quantities of running water.
Once again we found an interesting English-speaking source of information to tell us all about the ascent of Monte Civetta for tomorrow's attack. And this time we would not need a rope.

July 30.
Monte Civetta. 10710 ft.
5.10am start as advised to avoid a possibly too hot climb.
Ascent by the 'Via Ferrata'. A 'Via Ferrata' (iron way) is a path made possible by the assistance of assorted bits of fixed ironmongery. This one started with a ladder climb up a rock wall, followed by sections with fixed wire ropes, and other sections with no assistance provided but the climb being of Moderate standard; and it went on and on and on; good climbing rock but many footholds covered with loose stones, and exposed in places; and it went on and on up into the clouds. The most awkward bit was on fixed ladder rungs in a gully where the ladder turned a corner and one felt that an extra rung or two would be comforting to have. I’m sure that once or twice we would have used a rope if we had had one.
Anyway, in less than five hours we did reach the summit, duly marked by a cross made rather improbably of old railway lines ('ferrovia'), but unfortunately no book this time to record our great achievement.
Cloud had accompanied us to the summit, but mostly cleared as we settled down for a meal on the edge of the ridge on the top of the 3500ft Civetta Wall, the NW face of this imposing range. An incredible nearly vertical view down to the lake of Alleghe and San Tomaso in the Cordevole valley, and westwards towards the Marmolada. The lake was over 7000ft below us but less than three miles away. And the Civetta Wall curving away from us to the south just cannot be described without the aid of a photograph. But once again we were lucky to be having a perfect (and our last) view from over 10,000ft.
Farther south a huge ominous anvil cumulus cloud prompted a suggestion by Marion that our sojourn on the summit should not be prolonged. So we set off down.
A nasty scree-on-ledges slope led down to the disused Rifugio Torrani, until recently one of the highest manned huts in the Dolomites (at 2984m). It showed signs now of being about to be repaired. From there our downward route was by the 'Via Normale' which however was not nearly as 'normale' as many paths. Even this had fixed wire ropes in places and many nasty scree slopes, finishing over a snow patch before joining the more or less horizontal path for the last 1 and a half hours back to the hut. Descent took four hours.
So at 2.30pm we retired to our mattresses and it was 5.30 before we rose again and were revived enough for our evening meal. We were, however, aware of the storm brewing and then rain falling, thus confirming Marion's prediction on the summit. By 6.30 thunder, lightning and hail convinced us that once again we had done the right thing in our timing, and the weather had been very kind to us.

July 31.
Final descent from mountains and start of journey home.
A walk along the foot of the NW wall of the Civetta to enable us to inspect this magnificent cliff from below as yesterday we had peered down from the top. Marion made a collection of Alpine plants for home planting. A good lunch and rest stop admiring our last cima --- the Cima de Venezia above the Rifugio Vazzoler, followed by a 3000ft descent into the Cordevole valley at the little village of Listolade, and then --- the beginning of the bus fiasco.
We had been led to believe that a bus would leave Listolade at 3.30 for Cencenighe, and next morning another would take us on to Bolzano. Anything but. Having reached Listolade in plenty of time, we soon found that the next bus was 4.45. Delay no. 1. So we had to wait, and duly reached Cencenighe at 5.15. But no bus next morning to Bolzano, without first travelling on to Falcade this evening. Delay no. 2 while we waited till 7 o'clock, and then did arrive at Falcade at 7.30. From here the morning bus was to be much later than expected. Delay no, 3. But we did find a good albergo for the night with a super pizza supper and an evening panorama of the sunset glow on Monte Civetta and Monte Pelmo.

August 1.
9.35 bus and eventual arrival at Bolzano at 2.30, but only after spending over an hour at the top of the San Pellegrino pass while the bus went off on a local trip of its own, and then changing buses in Moena before the long crowded 2 and a half hours to Bolzano by the roundabout route through Predazzo, Fleimstal and Ora carefully avoiding the parts of the mountains we particularly wanted to see. Hot in Bolzano, having now descended to a mere 100ft above the sea. So, immediately up again as planned to more salubrious climes at Soprabolzano, by funicular and a delightful tram ride winding through the woods to Collalbo. The object of this diversion being to visit the earth pyramids. These are a fantastic collection of pinnacles of mud up to 80ft high, each topped by a boulder which has preserved the pinnacle while the surrounding earth has been eroded --- almost like miniature Dolomites. When seen beneath a rainbow after a brief thunderstorm they formed a memorable picture --- another of those scenes which must be photographed --- no postcard is good enough. And, of course, we still had no working camera.
But that night we did find a comfortable 'camera' in a private house for our last Italian night. We also went out for a meal; a disappointing one this time; we found we were now in a tourist area, and prices were up and service down to suit.

Sunday, Aug 2.
A pleasant pinewood stroll in the morning to prepare us for the final journey home.
Start 11am.
1. Tram to Soprabolzano.
2. Funicular down to Bolzano.
3.Trains to Munich and sleeper to Ostend.
4. Boat to Dover.
5. Train to London where our routes parted.
6. Underground London, then trains to Worcester (for me) and Bournemouth (for Marion).
7. Taxi from Worcester station to Staveley works.
8. Motorcycle home to Highley.
9. Add several sections on foot to make eight means of transport from tram to motorcycle.
Arrival home (for me) 9pm Monday. Marion at Parkbury at 7pm.

Highlight of the holiday? Last few steps on to the summit of Monte Antelao, our highest summit, after the doubts of the steps cut across the icy snow.
Lowlight? From Victoria to Paddington underground in a heatwave. Why was the train packed full at 4pm on a Monday afternoon ? Consolation: some people do this every day and survive.

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