What a difference a
border crossing makes. I doubt many prefer Swiss cuisine to Italian. Fondue is
all very well, but it could hardly challenge bolognese. Nor is rösti likely to beat
pizza in world-wide popularity. But then there’s breakfast ...
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[La Drance de Ferret Valley] |
After a warm, dry
and very comfortable night in our Swiss hotel, we ambled down for a buffet
breakfast. And there, among many plates of delicious looking food, was a large
serving bowl full of beautiful bircher muesli. There was also a cornucopia of
both fresh and stewed fruits, and a wide variety of dairy. Oh how I had missed
fruit and yoghurt and muesli! Regardless of how good the cheeses and meats
looked, the Bircher was my bliss.
If this focus on
food seems a little forced, it’s worth remembering that food is a vital part of
home, perhaps even more so when you’re away from home. We’d been walking
continuously now for 6 days, we’d been strangers in three strange lands, far
from our homes. Seemingly simple things that we usually take for granted, like
drinking water, dry clothes, hot showers, clean toilets, comfortable beds, and
the enjoyment of food, had barged their way to front-of-mind for us.
After that blissful
breakfast, the morning continued on an upward trajectory. Although the cloud
hung low, the rain had gone. We left La
Fouly and quickly joined a pleasantly graded downward path that offered
views across a steep and impossibly green valley. Yesterday’s downpour had
enhanced water flow too, and La Drance de
Ferret river, the side streams, and the occasional waterfall, all gushed
exuberantly.
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[A waterfall after the town of La Fouly] |
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[A steep traverse after La Fouly] |
Gradually the
alpine grandeur of previous days gave way to a quieter, more bucolic beauty.
Certainly the mountains were still there, but it was as though they’d stepped
back to give someone else centre stage. Where we’d been tramping on steep
mountain tracks, we now traipsed through green meadows filled with wildflowers,
dotted with cattle and goats, and interspersed with exquisite Swiss villages. The
heavens joined in, blessing us with large patches of blue sky and bright sun.
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[Walking through meadows near Issert] |
We stopped to stare
– and photograph – frequently, and to admire the quintessentially Swiss
firewood stacks, particularly in the little village of Les Arlaches. Who said passion was just an Italian trait? Clearly some
of these Swiss villagers have a passion for neatness and order, and especially
when it comes to their firewood.
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[One of the wood stacks in Les Arlaches] |
At the village of Issert we crossed the river, and began
climbing towards the town of Champex.
Before long we’d found a suitably shady spot for lunch, deep in a coniferous
forest, and close to an intriguing tunnel. Julie explained this was once a
slate mine. All of those slate roof-tiles had to have come from somewhere!
Lunch included
boiled eggs. Intriguingly these had been preserved with coloured wax, which
brought out Mike’s playfulness. He carefully hid the eggs under logs and behind
bushes, and declared an egg-hunt. It may not have been Easter, and tiredness might
have prevented some from appreciating Mike’s whimsical humour. But hunger was
enough to ensure we all joined in the spirit of the occasion.
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[Julie find the right sort of mushroom!] |
And then, as we
trudged higher, Julie found a new game for us to play. The forest hid treasures
of which we were unaware until she enlightened us. Once shown, we started spotting
mushrooms everywhere in the pine-needle undergrowth. Some of them had Julie
capering about very happily, especially a variety of highly sought-after edible
mushrooms. Some of the others could have made us quite ill, so it was no
free-for-all. But with Julie’s help, Keith, Mike and a couple of others got
their eye in, and before long Julie had a healthy load of mushies.
For a time we
walked on at that relaxed, mushroom-plucking pace. When we weren’t spotting
fungi, we were catching occasional glimpses through the trees into the valley
below. There, surrounded by a mix of cleared fields and industrial complexes,
we could see the sizeable town of Orsieres.
Rather than heading that way, we continued to climb towards Champex-Lac, our almost-destination. It sat
high above Orsieres, the two towns
separated by a formidable switch-back road. By the time we’d reached a lookout
point, we were warm and thirsty, and very glad to find a gushing water fountain
there. Sometimes it’s the simple things.
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[Ian fills up at the fountain] |
After that we
veered left, and began the steep descent into Champex, a pretty ski resort town with a plethora of hotels, set
alongside the charming Lac de Champex.
While our printed itinerary had indicated we’d spend our one-and-only rest day
here, Julie had let us know earlier that we would actually be staying “a little
out of town”. So after a brief rest by the lake we again hoisted packs and
headed for the hotel Relais d’Arpette.
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[Still climbing: nearing Relais d'Arpette] |
Need I say that this was uphill from the lakeside town? And so it was an
hour or so later, that we finally reached what looked to be a sizeable and
comfortable hotel. It had a restaurant and a bar, and there were dozens of
patrons relaxing and taking in both beverages and brilliant mountain views,
including towards the famed Fenetre
d’Arpette. Our feet may have been sore after a week of walking, but once
again – in the other sense – we seemed to have landed on them.
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[Sunset over the Fenetre d'Arpette] |
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