Cows Bulls And Other Challenges
COWS BULLS AND OTHER CHALLENGES
As we walked into the quiet village of Rhémes Notre Dame in the Italian Aosta valley the village clock rang out the time. It was half-past three in the afternoon and still very hot. The sundial on the church spire looked down on us with the inscription “Nos jours passent comme l’ombre” or our days pass like shadows.
Footpath Along the Alta Via 2 High-Level Route
We were hiking a high-level route through the Italian alps and this was day six, so we were now fairly fit. Our route was called the Alta Via 2 which runs across the grain of the alps, it took my wife Isobel and me ten days and we walked 143 km. Much of the route passes through the Gran Paradiso National Park and the paths in many places are well made because in 1856 King Vittorio Emanuele 2 had created a Royal Game Reserve and tracks had been laid to allow his entourage to move easily between the hunting lodges. This ensured good hunting for the King but also protected the native Ibex and chamois which were in decline. The ibex, in particular, was hunted because it was regarded as a “walking pharmacy “as their blood, horns, bones and even droppings were used in a variety of remedies. The paths were now two hundred years old, but in parts, the ancient paving was still in place that was originally laid so that the baggage train of mules carrying cooks, food and cooking equipment could be set up in the hunting lodges before the arrival of the royal party. When we found these paths still in good condition, they speeded up our pace considerably.
Our hotel the Galisia, was in the centre of this small pretty village and we soon settled in and ordered cold beers to drink in the sunny garden. We chose a table and sat down to relax and stretch our legs after the hard day of hiking. But no sooner had we settled than there was a virtual eclipse as the sun disappeared. We realised that we were in a high sided valley and the whole valley was now in shade. The lack of sun also meant that the clothes we had worn and washed were now not drying as we hoped – but worse things have happened. Our stay in the Galisia was comfortable and the supper they served was tasty and substantial. With coffee we drank Genepy the “digestif” flavoured with wormwood which grows wild on the alpine pastures. It was a fitting end to my birthday.
The next morning, my diary records, that breakfast was a spartan affair with no meats or cheese, just bread and jam and coffee. So, we did not linger as the pass we had to climb was at 2840 metres and we were at 1722 metres. There was a challenging vertical kilometre to climb before midday. Our path out of the village soon led to a narrow wooded valley down which a stream tumbled. We zig-zagged steeply up through the pine trees until the path levelled off and we got our breath back. This was pleasant walking and we had made a good dent into the height we had to climb.
We soon came to pasture with a small shepherd’s hut and around it was a herd of Valdostana Castana, the native cows of the area which are noted for their “vivacious and warlike temperament”! We have met many types of cows over the years and our standard tactic is to take a long detour around them, however frustrating that can be. But on this occasion, we were constricted by the raging torrent of a stream on our left and a high cliff to the right of the path. Now some cows will continue to chew the cud as you approach, others will drift away out of timidity but this small herd of about fifteen full-grown animals were walking fast towards us. There are many records of walkers being trampled to death in these circumstances, so we decided to back off and retraced our steps. Just behind us was a large rock about the size of a delivery van. I called to Isobel to climb up fast – she replied that she could not do that with her rucksack on. Her back was to the cows as she considered the sides of the rock upon which I was now perched. When I said that the cows were now very close, she suddenly found that she could climb up and join me after all. From this safe but uncomfortable stance, we could see that the leader of the herd was a large bull with horns about four feet across. He was now pawing the brown dry soil with his forefeet and eyeballing us from about thirty feet. I felt he would have been able to get at us where we were so I suggested to Isobel that we drop over the large boulder to the streamside where there was a ledge before the long drop to the stream below. Isobel replied quite firmly that she was not able to climb over to the ledge where I was now standing. Then the bull moved forward and suddenly Isobel found the strength and courage to vault the top of the boulder and join me on the ledge while avoiding looking at the drop to the stream. Being safe we now began to see the funny side of things and so we shared some sweets and the minutes passed by. Before long the bull had been lured away by some pretty cows and we were able to climb back down to the path. We did reach the col, or high point, before midday and only stopped for a bowl of polenta at a high mountain refuge before descending to our day’s objective the attractive but modest ski resort of Valgrisenche, where we celebrated our safe arrival with two large pink Magnums.