Rainy Monday

Monday:-

Knee still not much different, nor the weather. Spent a lot of the day just chilling out, went to the supermarket and indulged in some cheap pasta, pesto and meat to break up the days of noodles and beans. Sam got bored and despite the rain went off to do some bouldering.

I stayed at camp and read all of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas again, tried some light stretches and exercise on my knee. Decided to wait and see if pain continues tomorrow and if so look at my insurance documents and the possiblility of seeing a Frenchie Dr. No doubt if I do I'll be told to rest my leg, very annoying I've sacrificed a lot to come here and I've possibly ruined it in the first week on a fairly easy route. Rather embarrassing. Maybe I'll ignore the pain and atleast do the Cosmiques or Petit Verte, but worst case scenario I might have to head home early. The pain seems worst when I'm walking down hill, when I'm about mid step, and feels like it's on the exterior right side of my right knee and almost like it's coming from the inside. No swelling or bruises, leading me to assume it could be something quite bad like a tendon tear or ligament injury. It feels very weak, like a sprained ankle or a over-bent finger might do..

Undecided what to do at this stage, I don't know what'd be worse, being here unable to climb but having a laugh with my mates. Or being at home job hunting, but atleast not be wasting money and working toward maybe another longer trip....or is it really being wasted? Hopefully the next few days will help me decide. It almost feels like I'm being lazy or making excuses, if anything I'm just getting very bored of sitting around. I want to be up on mountains, even if I'm not climbing, at least walking and taking photos, but I feel that might even be detrimental at the moment.

It feels hard to beleive just over a week ago I was still in my retail job and now I'm sat in a campsite near the Swiss/Italian/French border. If anything, other than wanting to climb and get photos, this has opened my eyes to how much more I really do want to travel and write. I feel almost burdened by the fact I have brought lots of gear to climb, previously before I got into climbing I'd have taken as little as possible. If that were the case now, maybe I could jump on a train to a few places in Europe, or maybe I wouldn't even be here and I'd already be in Asia/Canada/South America/who knows...

I'm still trying to get my head around this town and the lifestyle. This place is obviously very beautiful, and although the landscape is similar to places I've visited such as New Zealand's Southern Alps, there's almost a hint of fakeness about it. Don't misunderstand me, I know full well this place is awe-inspiring and there is nothing fake about the dangers and the power of this environment; but it feels almost down-played or diluted. To see notices about preserving the beautiful surroundings, followed 2 minutes later by being whisked up a cable car to places mountaineers 100 or so years ago would have risked their lives to reach and are now swarmed with tourist's ice cream eating children seems very odd indeed. This is an impressive feat, but is it the right message? So far I've witnessed litter, human waste and everything from metal bolts to gigantic metal machines bonded to the living mountain. I don't know whether to feel thankful the access has allowed me to see such places, or concerned that it will lead to their downfall. So goes everything in our current time, we preach about making a change to our ways and conserving while the majority remain blind to this and carry on. Turn the heating up, and put the kettle on, it will be OK, and I'm guilty like all the rest.

To be honest, I don't know what point I'm trying to make. While writing this I'm sat alone in the common room of the campsite listening to conversations and activity in languages I will never understand. I'm half writing out of boredom, and half out of the process of clearing things that have been whirling around my head the last few days.

Perhaps it's the heavy couple of hours from reading Hunter S. Thompson's better known work that have sent me into this writing mood, and perhaps it because I admire men like him that made me go on this trip for better or worse, even if I end up with a crippled knee and a financial knightmare, wouldn't this be better than plodding along in the rat race until what?