They left, but I saw 'em later at the hostel. Curious, I stopped by their room, offered some of my dwindling whiskey, and got to know the guys. Nick was taking knee days between climbs, said knees being carved up and scarred from who knows how many operations. It rains my fourth day in Chamonix. It rains my fifth day in Chamonix.
Morale is low, low, low.
A night train to Rome via the happy efficient land of Switzerland takes me with it at the end of my fifth day.