In the morning, we took our leave of Clifton, as Rudi-the-pirate kindly drove Humbert and I to the mainline train station in Hermagor, so we could return to our respective homes. On the way down we talked about how he enjoyed to living for most of the year off-mains high up at the cow alm, and I mentioned Crina Bottom, the isolated farmhouse in the north of England my wife and I had renovated together – where we installed a telephone landline, piped water from a nearby river, ran a diesel generator for electricity and so on – all things which here in these remote and wonderful alpine pastures seem not so very strange at all. I had to get back home to earn some brownie points with my family, and to do some work, so I had had to curtail my part of the Newt. Humbert’s equipment really wasn’t up to doing any more, as his boots were completely inoperable, and his equipment, (particularly the enormous tent), was really too heavy to be carrying any further. So between us, we left Clifton to carry on the Newt flag, alone. Clifton took another two days and headed off alone over a ridge and into Italy before returning via the originally planned, and apparently very interesting, gorge route to Hermagor. It had been a good trip overall, not withstanding some inclement weather, and I’d really enjoyed meeting and walking with my two fellow Newts amongst some of the finest scenery europe has to offer.