544. Old Plans and New Plans

There are plans…and then there are new plans.

I have planned two days to reach the Saint Bernard Pass from Orsieres. Probably about 7.5 miles each day with 1000 meter elevation gain. Our actual trip has taken only 30-45 minutes. An obvious story here.

Walking from Sembrancher to Orsieres, I enjoy Wednesday. No rain. Only 6+ kilometers. Following my recent Canadian friends way, I take the train to Sembrancher to avoid some treacherous rock slides, with a 30-40 meter drop off if I slip. No thanks. The train also eliminates 10 kilometers of uphill climb. As a result, my hike that day is wonderful. It is like a stroll as in a woodland park without too much elevation gain. Along the way, I pass some quintessential beautiful alpine homes and barns. I even have my companions, some sheep, some cows, and even some deer.

Upon arriving in Orsieres, I begin to check-in at the Hotel Terminus. What do I hear? The train arriving with Mary. I drop my pack and sprint the 100 meters to the train (okay, maybe not sprint). I get to welcome her to a new village this time! We return to complete the check-in. I must confess that I always have misgivings staying at a hotel close to a train station. I worry about worn carpet. paint peeling from the walls, frayed towels washed once a week. Not so. The Hotel Terminus is clean in the perfect Swiss way.

We grab a bite to eat sharing a Caesar salad.

Mary doesn’t eat the undercooked egg or use the Caesar salad dressing. Good decision. I eat the egg and use the salad dressing. Bad decision. For awhile, I’m fine. We walk the village. Beautiful wood homes, character-filled church, a meticulously kept cemetery.

Around midnight the trouble begins. I’ll spare you the details, but projectile vomiting is not fun. My gut keeps saying: “Whatever you are, get the hell out of here!” Since I’ve had food poisoning once before, I’m 99% sure that is what happened. A long night. In the morning, I’ve no strength. No walking today or the next several days.

So the change of plans begins. I know that I can’t walk. Do we stay here another night? Can we get a room at the Albergue Hospice at Great Saint Bernard Pass? Can we get a taxi there because the public buses aren’t operating their summer schedule yet? Plans and more plans. Fortunately, we find a room at the Albergue Hospice and a taxi. Of course, the taxi cost only a little less than the price of a flight from Atlanta to Geneva! So, we are off to the great Saint Bernard Pass.

We stop at Bourg-Saint-Pierre. I’m sick, but I still want to take a photo, and say a prayer at the small church. There’s even a 4th century Roman milestone column “To the Emperor Cesar Valerie Constantin.” The town also has a copy of Napoleon’s IOU of 40,000 francs to cover his soldiers expenses.

In 30-45 minutes we arrive. Since we arrive around noon, we wait a short while for the room to be readied. In an hour I’m fast asleep.

I definitely did not anticipate these past few hours. As a solitary walker, I worry about twisting an ankle. I worry about reinjuring my knee where I had torn my meniscus. I worry about getting sick from the cold rains of northern France. I do not worried about food poisoning.

I definitely am disappointed. My goal on this 725+ mile pilgrimage is the Great Saint Bernard Pass. As I mark off each night’s lodging, I see on my itinerary every night the Albergue Hospice at the Pass. As much as the destination, I want to enjoy the alpine plants, rocks, snow, cool streams. Inhale deeply that crisp mountain air. Part of my ego wants to feel that sense of accomplishment, of fulfillment. I have to let go some of those long-held desires.

While I’m disappointed, I’m finding other feelings. I’m grateful for arriving here. I’m grateful for probably 20 hours of sleep. I’m grateful for the 1000 years of hospitality offered by canons and locals at the Saint Bernard Pass. I smile as I look out our window and see three hikers lugging their packs up the final slope. I grin seeing the St. Bernard dogs snoozing away.

“Why I ask myself are you so depressed? Why are you so upset inside?” Words from that ancient writer in a very different context. How self-aware that the writer can question his own feelings! While acknowledging depression, or in my case lower-grade disappointment, that ancient writer suggests that one does not have to let those feelings take up residence. Real, but temporary. Real, but replaceable. There is room for more! Gratitude. Awe. Humility as I’m part of that long-line of pilgrims making it to Great Saint Bernard Pass. One way or another!