ALPINE CONVERSATION

IT WAS DAY 22 of my journey across the Alps, and I’d covered almost 700km to reach South Tyrol. At dawn, I’d watched the beams of climbers’ head torches, silently edging their way towards the summit of the Ortler. Now, I was following part of the same route. I hoped to traverse beneath the white meringues of glacier to continue westwards.

I was soon moving through a vast crumbling moraine. The path gave way to shale and boulders. There was nothing solid in amongst the braided maze of glacial outflows pouring from the surrounding cliffs.

I balanced the tips of my walking poles delicately against rock edges as my feet danced on the crumbling slopes. Half walking and half scrambling, I manoeuvred around massive boulders and smeared over slabs chiselled by eons of glaciation. It felt expressive, as if my body was in conversation with the landscape.

Searching for the best line across the steep gullies and exposed scree slopes, I was attentive