The funny monk at the Grand Saint Bernard pass

Winter of 2018 was one of the snowiest for a long time, and the excess snow on the high mountain passes took a few more weeks to clear than usual. The result, as each one opens, is a spectacular mix of sun, cyclists and walls of snow.

  I decided to circumnavigate Mont Blanc, travelling from Saint Jean de Sixt through Chamonix, then dropping into Switzerland near Verbier, heading up the Grand Saint Bernard pass, then down into the Italian region of Aosta before climbing up the picturesque road through La Thuille and taking the Petit Saint Bernard pass into La Rosière before heading home.

Of the two passes, I found the Col du Grand Saint Bernard to be more interesting. I stayed at the historic hospice, which has been housing pilgrims since soon after Bernard of Menthon jumped out his Menthon family castle’s window by Lake Annecy to avoid marriage and ran away to the Col to help pilgrims (after which time he was subsequently sainted and had an entire breed of dogs named after him for their use as pilgrim rescuers on that very same Col).

The original, small hospice was built in 1050, and it was enlarged several times to cope with the number of pilgrims needing shelter at the altitude of 2473 metres. With deep snow for up to seven months every year, pilgrims faced the dangers of avalanche, injury, frostbite, death and at one point, plague. So numerous were the pilgrims one winter that the hospice had to kill a cow a day for a month just to keep everyone from starving. Modern transport and various other factors mean there is now enough room at the hospice to accept paying tourists as well as welcoming genuine pilgrims.

Arriving in the evening and looking forward to a dusk walk before bed, my travel partner asked the monk at reception if the doors would be locked at a particular time. “Monsieur,” he replied, “we haven’t closed our doors since 1050AD.” Who knew monks could do deadpan comedy?

Not far from our tiny bedroom window was a morgue, with a bricked-up door protecting the mummified bodies and skeletons who fell victim to the elements or disease during their passage. Despite this, the hospice was a tranquil place to sleep until 7.30 in the morning when the tranquil sounds of a flute and organ are piped into every room as a wake-up call. The second was more of a “get up out of bed, lazy people” tune, and I was grateful for the return of silence after four songs. Alas, it was almost 8am and we had been told that breakfast was at 8.

Arriving five minutes late, we were the last ones to be seated. Bread baskets and butter and honey were our morning fuel, along with coffee and tea, until a comparatively gluttonous lunch  in the village of Aosta four hours later. I fully recommend this experience (the hospice and the Italian lunch).

Other highlights of the trip were:

• the museum at the Col du Grand Saint Bernard
• walks to explore the tiny flowers that had emerged where the snow had melted
• the historical town centre of Aosta
• the abundance of castles close to the national road, along with waterfalls and jagged mountains
• the sky walk bridge on the road up to La Thuille (where there’s a zipwire/flying fox across the gorge)
• the giant Saint Bernard dog statue at the Col du Petit Saint Bernard
• the spectacular views of Bourg Saint Maurice in the valley a long way below

If you’d like to see more of how the road looked, here’s a quick video (subscribers might need to click through on the link):

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