My dinner last night was delicious. I ordered a salad with goat cheese toast, and the goat cheese was quite pungent, but it was tempered with a drizzle of local honey. There were plenty of fresh greens, including fennel which I am crazy about. The salad was topped with fresh sprouts and candied walnuts.
My first St. Bernard sighting. My favorite dogs are Border Collies, and Borg St. Pierre was full of them. I expected more St. Bernards, but clearly, the Border Collies won out.
The world is full of old hippies. Long live the sixties!
This little cabin was so cute. It even had a solar panel on the top.
Another look at the dam.
The other side of the dam.
These purple flowers were all over the mountain.
A bit of an interesting bridge to cross. I envisioned entering a log roll, but the pipes were steady.
This was a hut in case hikers were stuck out in the dangerous weather that could quickly change in the mountains.
I finally figured out what these numbered signs were. There is a telephone number on each, just below the number. They identify the area for emergency rescue.
Lots of these Swiss sheep!
Beautiful views in every direction.
My Chemin ( French term for Camino) Angels, Alex, and Clovene. I somehow got on the wrong trail, and he got his map out and showed me how to return to the path I was supposed to be on. It could have gone back, but it looked shorter to take the trail less traveled. Of course, it added a bunch more up (like I needed more up) and a more precarious trail. I found an even higher point than I was supposed to go, walked along such narrow trails, and prayed that I would get where I was supposed to spend the night. I added two 100% up miles to an already challenging day.
Snow on top of the mountains.
Remnants of a glacier. It saddens me to think how big this glacier was twenty years ago.
A warning sign at each rock crossing said, "Don't Stop," and showed falling rocks. This hike was mega hard and quite technical.
There were lots of exciting rock colorations.
By the time I stumbled into Col de Saint Bernard, I was pooped. When I finally saw the town of my hotel, I flopped into a chair at a bar and had a big Diet Coke. I couldn't resist, tired legs and all, to visit the St Bernard Museum. This is where the original St Bernard dogs were bred.
The dogs that I saw were all champions.
The most celebrated of the Saint Bernards was a dog called Barry. From the museum, Barry "served the hospital for twelve years, during which time he saved the lives of forty individuals. His zeal was indefatigable. He searched for lost travelers whenever the mountain was enveloped in fog and snow. He was accustomed to running and barking until he lost breath and frequently ventured to the most perilous places. When he found his strength was insufficient to draw from the snow, a traveler benumbed with cold, he would run back to the hospital in search of the monks. When old age deprived him of strength, the Prior of the Convent pensioned him at Berney by reward. After his death, his hide was stuffed and deposited in the museum of that town. The little vial, in which he carried a reviving liquor for the distressed travelers he found among the mountains, is still suspended from his neck."
I was surprised at the diet of a St. Bernard. They get wine and beer. Was there an AA program for them if they drank too much?
A painting of Saint Bernard, the human. The hospice on Grand-St-Bernard Pass is a shelter built in the Middle Ages by Augustine monks, whose hospitality is legendary. They still welcome visitors, but there are only four remaining monks.
I thought This stained glass window in the museum was beautiful.
Across the beautiful lake is my big hotel, straight across.
Right before my hotel was this sign. Whoohoo! I made it to Italy.
This is the other side of the Italy sign - Switzerland.
So I was going to finish my blog with a photo of my wonderful dinner, but you will just have to wait until tomorrow. I can't get the darn thing to download.
So good night from one tired hiker!
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