I woke up feeling off, and I put the blame on the packaged panini I’d likely swallowed whole due to extreme hunger and a limited supply of food on a Sunday night in a small town. The trail to Châtillon should only be about 15 km. Even if I got lost a bit, I’d be fine.
The hotel sign you see in the photo above is the one I stayed at. The Trattoria and Ostello in Echevennoz also had the highway nearly in their back yard.
Beauty In Art
Italy has an incredible number of artists, but it’s often just the big names that get thrown around. I enjoyed the way they spread the joy and put it on everything. Some of it was about religion. Some related to history. Some made no sense to me, but who cared?
All of it was sooooo beautiful. Even the smallest attempt never failed to bring a smile to my face.
High Peak Views
My gaze kept returning to the high peaks behind me and the few around me. Regardless of the nearly unbeatable scenery in front of my eyes, I couldn’t stop thinking of my time on the TMB.
The trail had really opened up a space for adventures I’d never have entertained before. And my heart rose at even the thought of those rocky/snowy summits.
Before we reached Chatillon, there were these ruins on a steep hillside, all grown over and saying, “Stay away,” with piles of thorny blackberry bushes. I’d have loved to have crawled through the shrubs to see how many houses/buildings there were and what I could find in them. But I played it safe, took photos and continued.
I stayed in my first religious accommodation for pilgrims. They were super welcoming and helpful, but the dorm was pretty rough. I’d met an Italian couple on the trail, and they got there shortly after me. She kept saying, “It’s so bad!”
She was right. It was pretty dirty. If this was the norm for this type of shelter, I wouldn’t be using them much. But sometimes, the options were nil. The low-cost hostel was full.