Who are you calling chicken?

We took our time leaving Champex this morning – it is Sunday after all – so it was 9 o’clock when we set off with our picnic lunch safely stowed. It was a walk of two halves. Pretty much all downhill to start, so walking poles at the ready, off we went and were soon on steep narrow paths in the woods when we caught up with a large group of Germans. Carol diplomatically said ‘bonjour’ to the frau at the back, who although a bit shocked to see us, let us pass. Spurred on by success she repeated this until their party leader turned to investigate the commotion. Seconds later we were ahead of them, striding away. Don, tactfully, kept his thoughts to himself.

I mention the narrow paths, because as you may know, I get vertigo. It is tricky passing, when the way ahead is sometimes only 15 inches wide, the drop to the left is hundreds of feet and to the right is a solid rock wall. Passing can be tricky in such places. So why not just fall into line and wait? Good idea, but it’s not a one way street, and those coming the other way don’t always have the same awareness of height issues. It’s not for the faint hearted.

Talking of chicken, we came across a magnificent specimen in one of the gardens we passed. His hen house was a scale model of a Swiss chalet, complete with glass windows, window boxes and even geraniums planted in them. Marvellous.

For those who like a nice picture, here’s one of the water falls we passed. How we made it across the bottom of the falls is another story. More narrow ledges I’m afraid. Very afraid.