Today is wash-day, for my clothing as well as for myself. There's a small cavity nearby where the water of a small brook gathers (it's easy to find: just follow the signs "poubelle"...). I wouldn't drink it, but it's suitable for washing purposes. I use a pot of my Trangia stove and a little neutral soap (that Thomas bought as "outdoor soap" for real outdoor money). Surprisingly, the fug comes out of the clothes as well as the coarsest mud; "clean" would be a euphemism, but who cares about that in the middle of nowhere?
We return to the cutthroat (actually they are more than one in shift-work) at the brook where we have breakfast. That's quite expensive but nevertheless better than muesli.
Then we start what looks on the map like 4km with 300vm uphill, a good part of it on the ridge. We traverse a region that looks just like our forest at home, and the following sappy meadow with its flowers and cows could be in Ireland.
Where whater is, there's the green stuff ...
... where it lacks are mostly stones
Then again, bang! Back in the Alps. Our isohypsic way on the ridge turns out to be the "Seven 1800s Tour". It really doesn't miss one single peak, and maybe 1.5km (1 mile) takes us more than two hours! You can't but call the route alpine: there are climbing passages, and a cross reminds us that a fellow-countryman of us lost his life here some years ago. Some of the passages are so narrow that we really have difficulties to pass through them with our rucksacks, and occasionally there's a step of 1.5m and the lower step is sloping.
However, by 16.30 we arrive at the Usciolu Refuge (1750m) in three pieces (of one man and a rucksack each), and we put up our tent a bit underneath it. Right after our arrival we have a shower; sun and water, what else do you need? The "shower stall" is just some boards and it is closed on three sides, but not on the one leading to the lower part of the camp ground with its ten tents and its bustle; the first tent is just about 10m (30 ft.) away. At rush hour you have to queue up, and that's quite funny if it's new to you to queue up naked with members of the opposite sex. We watch for a decrease in the rush, then it's our scene: the water is so cold that you can't keep standing in the spray, so we shower in turns: one is soaking, one is soaping and the third is waiting for his "time slice". All told it's fun, and it's cleaning and reviving, too.
After us, a young man (of about our age) does the show with his trunks on! His contortions for washing everything without exposing anything act as a magnet on the eyes, especially because his trunks are glaring red. Without this beacon no one would have watched; the audience is giggling, and I think he's got his just deserts for being too self-conscious.
Open-air water sports and the fatiguing march of the day have made us hungry; we start the stove, and - of course - rice is being served, for want of instant sauce with instant creamed asparagus soup, which turns out to be a special recipe. Though our objectivity can be questioned, because you'll eat everything if you're really hungry.
The gardien of the Usciolu refuge offers chilled drinks: lemonade/coke/beer (Kronenbourg) 0.2/0.25l (about half a pint) for 13 FF. One bottle of vin rouge ordinaire (no label, 750ml) costs 25 FF; we treat us one beer each (or what the French call beer) and a bottle of wine. The gardien also offers salami, but the price is three times as high as in an ordinary shop!
At this refuge we meet the radio-crew again; heaven knows where they spent the last night. Meanwhile, we've replaced acoustic greetings with hand signs.
During the night storm springs up, and before we realize it the tent is full of dust, since the place around us is quite dusty. As soon as we note it we close the bulkheads. The night is loud and cold, the icy wind howls, and the sand patters against the tent in quite the same way that rain does.