Day 8 – Arolla to Evolene

13ish km, 700m down. 18k steps

Plans on an early start sabotaged by the best night’s sleep for a while, Grand Hotel Kurhaus is worth coming back to. Good spread for breakfast too, tho still full of last night’s dinner.

Arolla was busy, a few groups coming and going with coaches standing by. Resisted the call of the hiking kit shop, settled for reading about the Guided trips up to the glacier, fun but the kit list was extensive.

Straightforward day’s walking down the valley to Evolene, a village big enough to get its own bypass. Slightly overcast and wonderfully cool air led to a deceptively swift pace whilst we watched the mountains drift by.

We paused to poke around the stream a bit, tho it was quite fast flowing so care, or long legs, were required to cross it. Which led us straight back across on the next bridge down, one of the morning’s less useful sections of path. I bowed to temptation and made with the Sudafed, lets see if the over the counter version messes less with my mind than the common or garden Active. Half an hour later, my nose eased and I became somewhat hard of thinking. Grr.

We saw evidence of an ultimate fitness route, there were some obstacle course style contraptions every now and again, accompanied by signs (sponsored by Zurich) inviting the hypothetical reader to do things like 30 pull ups on a pair of rings. Owch.

We’re not quite sure how the Pension at Lac Bleu exploits the Belgians (part of its signage), but its fishing pond and multilingual signs seemed a little contrived for my taste. Judging back the cars milling around, it attracted the Dutch effectively too.

Paul picked us a picnic from Arolla’s shop which we munched next to the river between Les Hauderes and Evolene, about a mile from where the cheese was made. Yum. Tho my backpack smells of cheese a bit now.. The camp sites were doing a solid trade and we saw quite a few groups of climbers setting up around the valley walls.

Plenty of butterflies on the way, tho they scattered as soon as we’d unlimbered the cameras.Evolene is a fairly large village, big co-op on the end, many hotels and restaurants on the main street and a whole bunch of nooks and crannies between the traditional buildings.

Hotel Hermitage is easy to find on the main street, they speak good English and were quite happy when we rocked up about 2ish. A quick boule of citron sorbet from the village, an unexpected by most welcome punnet of juicy strawberries and lying back on the balcony has done wonders to restore me. Crossing fingers that an unblocked nose is NOT an invitation to bleed again, must not get complacent.

Staring up at the valley wall in disbelief at what we’re planning for tomorrow, the newly extended Cabane de Moiry via Col du Tsate. As far up as 2900 metres. Twice. Heard a few more English voices today, though we’re very much still the minority amongst the tourists.

Day 7 – Sion to Arolla, via Siriez

Apparently i missed fireworks and a thunderstorm last night, so I slept better than I thought. Today’s the last day off, back to walking again for us after this.

Not much to report on, apart from a few fun shops in Sion, wine tasting w/ tapas and the biggest cheese counter I’ve seen in a long while. First port of call was dumping our bags at the station whilst we had a tour of the ski resort at Nendaz on our way to rescue Paul’s poles from the cafe at Siriez. Nendaz looked bigger than Verbier, could be where the smart money goes, esp as they’re connected by cable cars.

Back to Sion for a sandwich for lunch before heading up Val d’Herens to tonight’s destination. 3 days roasting in the valley was plenty for me, I’m most glad to get back up again. Air fresher and temperature nearer sane.

Paused to change in Les Hauderes, just outside the dodgy hotel we stayed in in 2003. Doesn’t seem to have changed much, neither does its bar that we monopolised.

Arolla looks like I remebered it, but Grand Hotel Kurhaus is very, well, grand! Old in the right places and new in others, it sports wifi, proper leather sofas in one of the lounges with proper 10′ ceilings, a good library, extracts from 100 year old guest books and an old wooden globe. I’ve always wanted to try spinning one of those! It’s aged better than Hotel Weishorn, tho that could be to do with its pricing strategy. In any event, I’m visibly lowering the tone of the living room in my rumbled walking shirt and trousers, sniffing away to my phone.

The valley walls are remarkably severe, even for the alps, but the view across to the mountains between us and Grimentz is splendid.Val d’Herens seems very popular with Belgians and the Dutch. Les Hauderes was nearly crawling with Dutch Scouts and every third car sported a B or NL, with a few UK plates thrown in for good measure.

Proper wood fires add to the ambience and the 4 course dinner was great, if a touch large.

Day 6 – Sion. Hiding from the sun.

Started the day by blowing my nose. Not normally that noteworthy but the heat meant it took me 3 hours to get it to stop bleeding, not impressed – no brekky for me.

Chilled, planned and booked the next hotels until it was kicking out time, when we decamped to a cafe for a bit. Mmm, ice tea. We needn’t have bothered booking online for the somewhat cheaper Hotel Elite, turns out its not manned until the evening. It’s a basic but clean 2*. Lift big enough for one person or 2 bags. Ensuites straight out of Langwith D block. Not as good as the other 2*s we’ve been staying in, but hey, cheaper is cheaper and it gives me a chance to catch up with my typing and listen to the chavs and bikers make loud noises outside.

Ventured out into the 35c heat about 5ish to go poke around the old town a bit and head up to the church on top of the hill. Quite a bit of rehearsing was going on in the music college buildings. Took a few fun photos and wilted a lot in the heat, tho it was beautifully cool inside the church. Couldn’t resist getting a sorbet to walk back to the Hotel with, whereupon I added another verb to the list of things that makes my nose bleed..

Dinner was good, but the evening was dominated by the world cup final, a great many people thronging the central street watching the match on as many big screens that the cafes could wire up. The serving crew had their work cut out to keep the drinks flowing, but the proceedings were very civilised. Some snack food provided by a chap with a paella pan and a gazebo, or another cafe serving as much raclette as they could manage.

It’s down to a more sane 25C now, still too hot to sleep with the double glazing shut. A shame because my window opens over aforementioned street full of people cruising in either chav mobiles, or cars so new and shiny I had to ask Paul what they were. Means I don’t need to watch the game on my room’s little telly, I get all the highlights roared in from the town.