A gourd for the Virgin Mary

Margaret, Sam and Lucy at Chapel St Michel

No skiing today, but it didn't seem like a good idea to sit around doing nothing. Sam and Lucy said they were going to walk up to the Chapel St Michel, the weather was OK, but snow was forecast and there was plenty of snow lying on the path.

Margaret wasn't keen on the walk up to the Chapel, but I suggested we walk as far as the shrine to the Virgin Mary, which is a good walk, but about two-thirds of the way to the chapel. I suggested we leave one of the gourds as an offering. We walked on the farm tracks, rather than the pilgrims' path and met the horses a bit higher up. They moved onto the track as we approached in the hope of a tasty treat, but we had nothing for them. Sam had an apple, but there was one apple and two horses, so he (perhaps wisely) kept it in his pocket. A little further on we saw a large dog fox scampering up the hillside. He was making much better progress than we were.

We reached the level just below the shrine fairly easily, but then had to traverse across from the farm track onto the pilgrims' path. We'd visited the shrine in early December and saw that someone had left a quince in there. I was pleased to see it was still there, looking remarkably fresh and we added our gourd to the little collection. There are some flowers, some lace, some tea, the quince and now a gourd. I'm not religious, but it was nice leaving something in the shrine.

Offerings to the Virgin Mary

Margaret wasn't keen to carry on, but we persuaded her to go higher and she managed to get to the Chapel quite easily. The last bit, as it had been in December, was quite icy and slippery but we managed to get up and down OK. See the video here. The path up from Villaret was not too icy, but would be more tricky coming down, so we decided to come back via la Rosiere on the other side of the crag, as this was a more gentle descent (without an exposed traverse) and a better path. It meant we got to la Rosiere below Villaret and had a bit of a climb back into the village. The path between Villaret and la Rosiere is quite steep and both boggy and snowy, but we took it steadily and got back up comfortably.

We were sitting on the patio cooling down when Roxy (aka Maurice) made an appearance. She’s a border collie (a proper farm dog) and very friendly. She stinks of cows, is thin as a rake, but has lovely white teeth and loves a belly rub. We’d take Roxy home, no trouble, but I don’t know what she’d make of the flat fens after a lifetime running up and down the Alps guarding and herding the cattle.

In the afternoon, we took the BMW down to Bourg-Saint-Maurice to have a nosy at the shops and also have a meal out. We thought we'd try Le Refuge Altitude 810 as we'd eaten there in March last year and it had been quite nice.

The snow had been falling gently all day and in Bourg is was sleet. It's amazing how much of a difference 200 metres makes. At Villaret snow, in Bourg wet sleet, but it was falling more heavily. We stopped in a bar for pre-dinner drink as it was a little early. It was still fairly early at 6.30pm and we surprised the waitresses in Refuge. It was empty when we arrived, but then some skiers came in followed by a huge party of three families, which added 19 people and suddenly the place was packed.

Refuge 810 is an interesting place with unusual decor. There's a clothes line with a string of frilly bloomers strung along one wall, lots of old skis and sledges hung up and we were sat below a stuffed fox (who didn't look happy with his lot) and a stuffed marmot.

There was a comedy moment when I thought I'd ordered a steak, but was actually asking for fish. Fortunately, I asked for it medium rare and the waitress realised something was not quite right.

I ended up with lamb shank, which was full of meat and very nicely cooked, but somewhat spoiled by being served in a cream and mushroom sauce. It really needed something sharp (like mint sauce perhaps) to contrast the greasy meat. By the time the cheese course came, we were pretty stuffed, so Lucy stashed the leftover cheese into her pocket to use up the next day. We'd bought some cheeses from England - Stichelton, Wode Hill Blue and Cote Hill Blue. The Stichelton (a Stilton style blue made from unpasteurised milk) was favourite and the Cote Hill Blue was very well liked (that's a soft blue from Lincolnshire). We'd left the Wode Hill Blue uncut as it was in a small, whole cheese. It's a soft blue made in Bedfordshire (also from unpasteurised milk) and it was gorgeous - so tasty and complex; definitely one to get again.

The sleet was still falling in Bourg, but was we drove up the hill, it became heavy snow and quite icy on the bottom part of the road. The traction control cut in a couple of times, so I slowed down and took the hairpins gently, rolling round in first gear and the winter tyres did their job. The snow socks (our last resort) are still in their bags.

Christmas shopping and a short, but steep, walk to church

Our last day was to have been spent in Tignes, but Margaret wasn't up for the trip. The thought of a ride up the mountain by gondola and sitting it out in a high restaurant wasn't appealing and I could understand why. She said she'd stay at home, but it was only a short break and I knew she wanted to do a little shopping, so we called off the skiing and headed to Super U instead.

Sam was a bit sulky (he wanted to ski), but he cheered up after breakfast in the cafe. I got lots of nice things in the supermarket, including chocolates and biscuits for work, Beaufort cheese for Laura, something for Max (which I can't mention here in case he reads this); also a present of Leffe Belgian beer and glasses for me and some provisions for the long drive back next day.

We popped into Intersport where Margaret found a present for my sister; there was a weird music, books and games shop next door to Intersport, where I bought a set of cheap headphones to replace the ones that disappeared about the same time Tom left for Ecuador.

We'd thought we might have stopped in Bourg and had a look around, but we'd got pretty much all we needed and so headed back to Villaret.

Way above the village, there a small chapel built on the nose of a massive outcrop of limestone. It was obviously put in a place that’s difficult to reach in order to either be closer to Jehovah or to score more Brownie points for the pious making the journey from the valley floor. When we were here in 2012 for the first time, I'd tried to find out something about the place, but there was nothing on the internet.

It's called the Chapel St Michel on the map and there were quite a few references to shrines to St Michael, many of them established by people heading out on the Crusades. I guess it was the nearest they had to travel insurance. Although I could find many references, I couldn't find anything about this particular one.

From Villaret, it's quite hard to see how you would walk up to it. The front slope is massively steep, so that if you lost your footing, you would not be able to prevent yourself from falling. We assumed there was a way around the back, but there are deep clefts either side of the chapel and a sheer cliff above.

The notes in our chalet say that you can walk up to it and that it's also possible to walk up still higher to where there are some old gun emplacements, perhaps from the First or Second World War (perhaps earlier). These valleys have been the scene of many battles and have seen many armies pass through from Hannibal to Napoleon.

There are signs pointing up to the chapel in Villaret and so we set out early afternoon on a lovely sunny day. The tarmac road stops at Maison Blueski, so once we'd clambered over the icy snowbank piled up at the head of the village by the snowplough, we were on a dirt road (steep but clearly used by quads or 4x4s). These fields are wonderful summer pasture for sheep and cattle, but right now the grass is a little rough and covered with patches of snow. Soon, it will be all snow.

There's a clear track upwards, crossed in places by farm tracks, and in the winter sun we were soon too warm and having to discard clothing. Sam, Lucy and I were making the journey and Margaret was going to do a few jobs around the chalet. The path zig-zags upwards. There's a clear older path which is embanked on each side, but people have cut across the zig-zags to take a more direct route, so there are lots of little paths and a fair bit of soil erosion. In the places where the afternoon sun doesn't reach, the snow was building up. Untrodden snow gives good traction, but where people have walked, the snow is icy and quite treacherous.

After half an hour, there's a small shrine to the Virgin Mary where people had left offerings of flowers and produce (including a quince). From there, the path climbs and the views of the valley open out so we could see onto the bowl of Le Plan, the ski resort next to Les Arc and higher still, the track forked with one route leading to the chapel and the other one upwards towards the high plateau. That's a walk for June.

Now we were more or less on a level with the chapel at around 1350m and, to reach it, the path is cut into the sloping cliff for a short way before it arrives behind the chapel. This part is the most exposed, but is in the sun so ice and snow haven't built up. Behind the chapel, the path continues and leads down to La Rosiere, the area on the edge of Bourg immediately below Villaret (hence Villaret sur La Rosiere). You could use the path to do a full circuit.

The short walk up to the chapel was the most dangerous (especially coming down). Steps cut into the wooded slope have eroded and the snow has turned to ice so it was quite hard to walk. We had to go onto all fours going up and slide down on bums.

The chapel is well cared for. The heavy door is propped open, but a grille prevents you from entering. Inside there's a room with a small altar, a cross and a domed ceiling painted blue with stars. Outside is a large cross and floodlighting to highlight the place during darkness. A plaque on the wall says it was built in 1563 (about the same time as Thorney Abbey) well after the crusades. Of course the present building may well have replaced an earlier shrine.

The grassy face of the mountain below the chapel is extremely steep and you feel as it you're looking down directly upon Villaret and (below that) Bourg itself. 

Looking down the steep slope to Villaret and Bourg

Walking down, retracing our steps, required more care on the snow and ice, but we were soon back at the chalet and we walked onto the garden and took the steps down onto our patio. Margaret was sitting in the sun with a glass of wine petting Maurice (who had shown up again). They were having a very nice time.

Margaret had also had a glass of wine with the old lady next door who had been spending some of her afternoon working on the land behind our chalet pulling out and burning brambles. One had no French, the other no English, but they'd drunk wine, complained about hard work, commented on the fine weather and Margaret had established that it was a) OK to feed the dog and b) the dog was called Clarissa.

It seems a strange name for a dog (even a French dog) so I'm not sure if Margaret hadn't actually got the old lady's name, not the dog's. Anyway she now has a four-legged and a two-legged French friend.

Sam sent me this note on Dec 12: When we got back from shopping today, we saw the farm lady with a man who had a truck of dogs. She was buying a new collie for the farm. Interestingly he was from another valley and originated from Wales. He was retired here but breeds farm dogs. He gave her a deal of 400 Euro for a 3 month old. It was called Anushka and was going to be learning from the older dog, formerly known as Maurice and Clarissa. The dog's actual name is Roxy.