Eva on the Via Francigena (and beyond)

Song of the Day: Don’t Fear the Reaper — Blue Oyster Cult

Okay, so I really did have the best of intentions with the song today, but as you now know I do try to let the song choose itself whenever possible. I did have many other perhaps more appropriate options for a day of beautiful mountain scenery, but…

But, the best-laid plans etc. etc. See, we spent a lot of time in high alpine pastures today. And there were a lot of Swiss cows (do you see where this is going? No?) With each symphony of bells, we called out for “more cowbell!” I also introduced Patrick and Sam to the SNL skit which originated the saying.

Sam and I met Patrick outside our hotel at just about 7. After some quick debating about the correct number of layers — Sam and I both had long sleeves on over our t-shirts — we started out through the quiet town. It was fresh and cool but clear. We picked up the path which took us to the edge of town, and then almost immediately started out on a steep uphill gravel track that switchbacked up one of the mountains. Only a few minutes in, I was hot, sweaty, and sore — how was I going to get through today? Luckily, a few switchbacks up we decided to stop to de-layer, and we agreed to moderate our pace somewhat, with Sam acting as our pacer with his fancy running watch. So, up and further up we went, stopping periodically to watch the sun lift off of a mountain peak, which was bathed in the pink glow of the early-morning sun. Below, the green valleys and small villages looked oh-so-characteristically Swiss and were just waking up.

After awhile walking on the gravel tracks, we headed into the forest. “This is a steep section!” Sam called out behind him — so, more uphill. That’s going to be the story of the next two days, so no real surprises here. The forest floor was soft and springy from the rain and from the pine needles, and while the path was narrow it didn’t feel nearly as sketchy as anything we walked yesterday. However, I was still warming up, and would stop periodically to catch my breath and gaze up into the pines.

This road connected us to another gravel track, where we stumbled upon a field of grazing cows. Well, I say stumbled, but we could hear it before we could see it. There were playing a breakfast symphony, with the largest bulls equipped with the bass (i.e., massive, low bells) and the other cows having a variety of other sizes. Here is where the “more cowbell” jokes began in earnest as we stopped to take photos and videos — once again, this just seemed so completely Swiss. Right nearby was a tiny village of a few beautiful old timbered houses, and we admired the old construction techniques (and once again marveled at the idea of anyone deciding to live up here in the first place).

We rejoined the road for awhile and then were dismayed to see a sign pointing to a narrow downhill path — Direction: Rome. You might think going downhill is a nice respite, but on days where we know we are gaining thousands of feet of elevation, what goes down must come up. But with minimal complaints we came to the bottom of the valley, crossing the river through an active construction site, admiring the perfectly-organized firewood the Swiss so meticulously connect. Then we had a slow ascent along the river, with beautiful views of the pine forests across as we tracked the base of a cliff.

Unfortunately, our destination was up above the cliff…we groaned when we saw the trail that would take us there. Truly a mountain goat path, narrow with many switchbacks and a steep drop-off. I took the lead on this one and hustled up (as much as I could while carefully selecting my footing. In a few sections there was nowhere at all to put my feet, and I ended up essentially crawling on hands and knees. Luckily this section wasn’t too long, and then took us over a pedestrian bridge over the river once again, this time high enough to look down on a small waterfall.

We cut through the small village of Dranse, before arriving at the edge of a farmer’s hillside field. We stepped over an electric fence, I narrowly avoided disaster (i.e., stepping into a fresh pile of cow shit), and made our way up the path which zig-zagged up the hillside. Unfortunately the path here was bordered by two electric fences to keep the cows in, and they got quite close leaving little room for walkers to maneuver. Patrick stopped to say hello to the cows who were snacking just next to the fence. I, intimidated from my previous experience and from the zapping sound the fence would make every time my poles got too close, powered through quickly until I reached the top of the hill.

This brought us to Liddes, where we stopped for coffee and croissants at a hotel restaurant with a view back over the valley. It was the best pit stop yet, and I was sad to hear Sam remind me that this would be the last one in Switzerland (not much on the way to the pass tomorrow). It would also be the last stop for the three of us — I obviously can’t speak for Sam, but I have really enjoyed having him here and walking as our little group of three these past few days.

We sat and enjoyed coffee and croissants while enjoying the view. The sun burned off the layer of clouds, and the valley we would continue to walk revealed itself. I, unfortunately, was in a bit of a bad mood at this point but did my best to enjoy the experience.

On the way out of Liddes we once again marveled at the old timber construction. It’s interesting how the old methods are combined with modern technology — for example, we watched a large crane lift hay into the top level of an ancient barn. We followed a gravel track on a gentle uphill as we continued up valley, surrounded by pine forests and large alpine pastures. At this point I was starting to feel the altitude a bit, and that combined with having a difficult afternoon, I was having minor difficulties breathing as I hustled uphill. Patrick encouraged me to stop and breathe, counting me in and out of 10 slow breaths to calm me down.

Finally, we reached the final push — a grassy uphill straight up a ski slope, bordered on either side by more electric fences. We made our way up with no incident, and Sam and I headed to our hotel on the edge of town while Patrick headed into the pilgrim accommodation. We had splurged a bit on this hotel, and given we arrived just after 11 (we really made fantastic time — in the end our average pace was apparently 2.7mph) I was glad to have a nice place to stay.

Sam and I had a casual lunch of rosti (mountain food!) in the sun — a quiet meal until the hotel restaurant was bomdarded by a tourist coach of elderly Dutch, who stretched thin the already shoestring staff. As it turns out most of the staff was Italian, so I was overjoyed to be able to communicate once again.

We hung out in the hotel for the afternoon — Sam had some work to do, so I hung out at the spa (with yet another cold jacuzzi, but that’s ok) and rested my legs in a warm bath. It was very nice to shed the “pilgrim” identity for a bit and just chill out in a small bit of luxury.

Sam and I met back up for dinner, a classic Swiss meal of raclette, melted right on the wheel and scraped onto our plates by the proprietor. We paired it with wine (a cocktail for him) and molleux au chocolat (might as well while still in French speaking region). It was a lovely last supper for the two of us, and fully stuffed, we headed off to bed, where with the window open I was serenaded by the sounds of…more cowbell.

Final mileage: 8.83mi
Walking time: 4h 10m
Elevation gain: 2,949ft

Accommodation: Bivouac Napoleon Hotel. Nice location on the edge of town, and with a spa (though the hot tub was not working, unfortunately for my legs). Rooms are dated but large. The restaurant is good and has both an outdoor patio for lunch and a traditional Swiss dining room inside for dinner.