The Beginning

“I like mountains.” Only thing I said, when introducing myself in that mountaineering course. And now, 5 years later, 3:00 pm, here I am: in the middle of nowhere, nobody by my side, no one else knows where I am, absolutely wet on my feet, my hands are trembling; for I am stuck in this via ferrata, this narrow corridor, to the front a rock wall, on my back the vault. What on Earth was I thinking?

While focusing on her present sideway steps [so-called cat-steps that her father-hiker, her grandpa-hiker had taught her], alternatively a series of mixed pictures and random thoughts from the past displayed in her head chronologically between the times and events of that very day.

6:00 a.m. [One cat-step] I woke up and decided to walk rather than take the train. [Breathe in and let go] “Better walking than spending on a ticket,” Sure!

She got her whole life ready (sleeping bag, clothes, books, notebook, some snacks) in her beloved blue 70-liter hiking backpack, put on her boots and left Interlaken. She crossed the picturesque village dressed by doll-like houses made out of wood, finding only empty streets all over until 8:20 a.m., when she reached the next town: Wilderswill. Town of flowers, wood and wild herbs; not to mention, this smell of fairy tale all over the place, accompanied by its desolate pathways (not surprisingly).

8:30 a.m. the image of the signpost Wanderweg (wander-way) [Breathe again.]

It really was the perfect path for a morning walk. It was a mesmerizing view, indeed: the path was mirrored by the train rail and a river.

10:30 a.m. She stopped for a brunch: tuna fish with almonds and cranberries. On the way she had been able to collect enough drinkable water from the fountains she came across on the way. (Good thing of being in Switzerland: fresh, clean water.) As she was eating, she realized how early she was going to be at her next destination. “Grindelwald is just around the corner.”

Minutes later, the rain, this rain!

No sooner had she thought to herself she would soon reach her destination, than it started to drizzle. “Very soft, very gentle, beautiful light rain! It feels like a wet caress”. She had no clue what it was later to become:

My sole companion that so far, it seems, will never clear up. [Pause] Not even now, that I just don’t know how I ended up here! [Trembling step. Better stop, yes.] No, yes, I do know! It was that second signpost and its promise: Berg, Bergweg (mountain-way).

At 11 a.m., a spur-of-the-moment decision that changed it all: a signboard, offering to either continue on the wander-way arriving in Grindelwald in two hours or to enter a “Bergweg”. Of course she was going to opt for the latter, seduced by the word “Berg”, the promise of mountains after two, three days in the Alps with thick clouds, thick fog. She would finally see the reason that had brought her there; plus she had good boots and the rain might fade away soon for sure. “Let’s go! Grindelwald is at a two-hour walking distance away from this point. Deviating a little makes no big difference.”

Yes! Sure! [Another cat-step]

The Bergweg’s instructions were crystal clear: just follow the strip-painted red-and-white marks.

There’s one right in front of me. [Pause.] Reminding me somehow how I went up, (red-white signal) and up, (red-white signal) and up…

Always together with the gentle, gentle rain –an unstoppable one— that had already left her clothes rather moist (honestly, clammy). “It is ok, this rain makes the whole thing more interesting: the floor is muddy, but my boots can beat it; no problem.” 11:30 a.m. She reached a path which was not the summit yet, but would take her to another way up. 11:40 a.m. She got to a cabin for wanderers, ideal to rest, “but only for a moment, just to have some water and keep going: my boots feel a bit damp already.” She took a picture of herself and moved on.

12:20 She found this tree with a hanging ad. “Looks like a warning saying something in German, French and English, but, it is hard to see – it is covered with some branches.” Branches and something new: thick, white fog that started surrounding her all over! “Gosh! It’s everywhere!”

“But what does the signal say? Let’s get closer.

Please…

KEEP MOVING!!!

Ok, ok.”

[Another cat-step] And still even here (even now!) no mountains, but fog, fog, fog…! [Stop]

The red-white signal kept on going all the way up and up again. At some point she could see a small path between rocks, which seems to be pointing at a door of light. “Tell me that I will go there!” Red-white signal said ‘yes’! “Oh my, am I really here? All on my own and I cannot stop. There’s no one to stop me! Yes! This is it! Just as good as it gets.” By this time, she could feel her heart beating hard, her whole being sedated by a sort of painful delight. “Have I reached the summit yet?”

[Better stop for a while...] Eventually I could go down, (red-white signal) down, (red-white signal) down… She didn’t know that it was still half way to go.

(Fog-rain) Red-white signal down; (fog-rain) red-white signal down and down, until 14:30: the next red-white signal stood on the very corner of a white-foggy frame, as the signature of a painting depicting one of those cows some farmers have warned her about. “Ok, be careful. The fog is protecting you. Silently take a picture and go. Right. Done! Ok, now where’s my next red-white rock?”

I got closer, and closer, and closer: it was not a single cow but the whole herd! And, of course, the other red-white signal was in the middle of them all!

But that was not all, the next red-white signal was on a rock all the way across the herd (of course!) “Don’t tell me! I cannot go back.

Ok. Breathe, no nervousness, everything will be ok.

It’s getting late – COME ON!

Get yourself together!”

She conducted herself very slowly, no talking (no talking, no breathing, no talking). One of the huge cows stood up, loudly mooed. “Easy, easy, sweetie. I’m just passing by…” Silent step vorne, silent step vorne, silent step vorne. About fifteen, twenty silent steps vorne and “Phew! Red-white rock I reached you!” Heartbeat back to normal. While still laughing out of the adrenaline shot, in a way out of fun, her sole thought was again: “This is it!”

Somehow, after this, I recovered my energy, but noticed that my hands were starting to tremble. “Yes, the cold from the wetness. We’re almost there: never mind keep going!” [One more cat-step, come on!]

Red-white signal down; red-white signal down; red-white signal down… Until 15:00, when she reached this via ferrata (this narrow and slippery corridor, immersed in fog), to be gone through with no appropriate equipment (how irresponsible!), but her heavy hiking backpack, and (not surprisingly, of course) the next red-white signal was at the end of the corridor. “Ok, let’s focus. Deep breath…”

[Stop]

Somehow the family hiking tradition had been supporting her throughout her trek: their faces for a moment in her head. “Ok, I have to get back home safe. Focus and go!”

[Another cat-step, come on!]

After replying to herself, how did I end up here?, through all this chronological flashback of times and events, reviving the last couple of hours all over again, she regained some strength and remembered her mountaineering lessons (“Stay close to the rock wall”); enjoyed the view (“Gosh, have you seen those flowers?! Only one picture, please”), and finally kept on going non-stop “Now, focus: one step at the time, cat-step, cat-step…”

[Cat-step, cat-step, cat-step]

Until she reached the end! (Relief!) At which point she felt this sensation on her back, as if someone was calling on her shoulder, urging her to turn.

Turn!

“And there it was in front of me (at last!) my beloved mountains.”

At that very moment, as she felt tears running down her cheeks and her face breaking into a delighted grin, she knew what was going to be the next chapter of her life, what was to become her next ten coming years: “This is it!” The beginning of her nomad life.