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St. Bernard Pass

July 8, 2003

Dear Friends and Family,

This was a perfect top-down driving day. The sun was shining as we descended the Saas Valley and continued down through the Rhone valley farms and orchards. We passed castles and forts that had controlled traffic for hundreds of years. We didn't stop at castles though. Maybe we've see enough or maybe we just need to budget our castle time and there would be plenty of Italian ones later on.

At Martigny, we turned south and climbed up to the historic St. Bernard Pass. We went past yet another Alpine dam. I noted the graceful curves of the structure, whereas Marianne remarked how the whole structure seemed to intrude on the place. Different viewpoints.

Near the top, we avoided the 6 km (4 mile) tunnel in favor of the old Colle de Grand St Bernard. The uncrowded road up the Swiss side gave a wonderful view of the tops of the Alps. It did seem like we were going over the top of Europe.

At the very top, the road suddenly entered the complex of buildings originally built for the St. Bernard monks and their mission to aid travelers. The hospice still operates in summer (double room, 60 euros) and enjoys a spectacular view of the neighboring lake and surrounding peaks. While we had spectacular weather, the pass reportedly gets snow 12 months a year, so the traveler rescue business is not completely gone.

The small religious museum in the old monastery held precious relics and articles from the original occupants. We've seen plenty of museums of religious art, but here it seemed more personal, as if we'd stumbled into an old church sacristy. The chapel was equally inspiring. It was easy to imagine a satisfying, contemplative life here -- if that was one's calling.

Our immediate calling was lunch. We ate simple food, sitting on plastic garden furniture, gazing out at a million-dollar view, and thinking about Hannibal and his war elephants.

Richard Halliburton recreated Hannibal's elephant walk in 1935 and, when I was growing up, my favorite reading may have been his illustrated book telling of his adventures in exotic places such as the Colle de Grand St. Bernard.

The size of Hannibal's feat (and Halliburton's) became much more real to us as we got back into our car and slowly snaked down the twisted road, path really, on the Italian side. We have no pictures because the road was too narrow to stop and the drop off too steep for comfort. Far down the valley we saw where the tunnel exits but discovered that our old road passed under the newer one and would not rejoin for another ten or 12 kilometers.

At the bottom, we drove east through the Aoste Valley for an hour or so and then headed north to another end-of-the-road ski resort: Cervinia. As the eagle flies, we ended up only a few miles from where we started, but it's a new country and a new impression. And that's the next story.

Take care and, if the sun is shining, bypass quick tunnels in favor of old roads.

John and Marianne