We arrived back in Chernex on Saturday the 27th after an easy and very familiar train trip from Visp to Montreux, then up to Chernex. Sabine and the girls were waiting for us at the train station, and it was such a nice feeling of familiarity. Sheila had arranged with Martina for us to return to our apartment—the same one we stayed in over the summer—and aside from some updated artwork and a few new light fixtures, everything was just as we had left it.
After dropping off our bags and making a quick trip down to Denner for groceries, we joined the Chevalleys for a lovely fondue welcome dinner. All the travel we’ve been doing has completely warped my sense of time. In some ways, it doesn’t feel like we ever left. In others, it feels like we’ve been away for a long time. I now gauge the passage of time based on construction progress in the village, honestly, I was expecting more progress—it looked like only one more floor of concrete had been poured since the summer, but no one was complaining, as it meant our spectacular balcony view was preserved!
We immediately fell back into our village rhythm: visiting with friends, saying hello to the familiar faces at the Denner—although one of the store clerks has moved on to another store. I’ll miss chatting with him during the morning croissant runs. You always expect these special places you travel to will be frozen in time, preserved for when you return. But of course, life moves along for everyone.
One thing that has changed is Cedar’s comfort level. While his French proficiency is still limited to “Je m’appelle Cedar,” “Bonjour,” and “Au revoir,” his random arm gesturing game is strong. Plus, all the kids in the village speak the universal language of hide and seek, LEGO, and whatever other games they dream up. Cedar was welcomed back into the gang instantly. He was a little disappointed that it wasn’t warm enough for water fights, but that didn’t stop him from jumping right back into the action with his European “cousins.”
The Walk to the Crying Rock
Over the next few days, we shared meals and caught up on all the village gossip. On the 28th, we decided to go on a little walk to a local spot Yvan wanted to share with us. We packed a lunch for a picnic. I wasn’t entirely sure on the translation—was it the “rock that cries” or the “crying rock”? Either way, it was a spot of local legend, not far from Chernex.
Manue Mama, Manue Papa, and the kids were going to join us. I’ve learned to judge the difficulty of any walk by what gear they show up in—if there are helmets and crampons involved, we’re in for it. Luckily, no climbing gear this time.
The plan was to hike to Le Scex-que-pliau and learn the legend that goes with it. Here’s how it goes:
The Legend of the Crying Rock (At least what I could find on the Internet when I researched it)
A beautiful village girl and the son of a baron were in love—of course, a forbidden love. One morning, heartbroken, the girl walked into the forest and sat on a rock where she cried what felt like all the tears in her soul.
Suddenly, a fairy appeared and told her:
“A soul that mourns
Will find what consoles
On the Scex, near the torrent;
There, moans the one she loves,
There, supreme bliss.”
Just then, the baron’s son appeared. He told her his father had forbidden their love because of their social status but swore he’d love her forever.
The baron, furious, appeared with his guards and ordered them to seize his son. The girl threw herself between them, begging for mercy. The baron sneered and said, “The day these rocks start crying is the day I allow this.”
And then—just like that—the fairy tapped the rocks. Drops began to fall. The stones became damp. Cries rang out: “The rocks are crying!”
The baron relented. The couple was allowed to be together. And the fairy was never seen again.
It was perfect for Cedar, who’s still very much in his fairy-house-building era, and I think we even left some icicle tears we broke off the rocks in our freezer in the apartment. The walk itself was a lovely hike, I mean “walk” — it was cold, but really beautiful. Yvan and Manue built a fire, and just like that, we felt at home again with our Chernex family.
The weather is very similar to home in Chilliwack—no snow, and for our first few days, le Grammont was completely obscured by the seasonal fog (brouillard au francais) that rolls in above the lake. Interestingly, the weather report says “full sun,” but it’s deceiving— and you have to gain altitude to find it, which is good news, because we’re planning to be at the chalet for New Year’s Eve with the gang.
Can’t wait.
