Pam LeBlanc stands above Lac du Moiry in the Val d’Anniviers region of Switzerland. Chris LeBlanc photo
Midway through our first day of hiking from village to village in Switzerland’s Val d’Anniviers, my husband and I crested a ridge and thought we heard music in the distance.
A pub, perhaps? We couldn’t tell.
We made our way past half a dozen cows with bells clanking around their necks and kept moving toward the sound, which seemed oddly familiar. Here in southwestern Switzerland, where most people speak French, we swore we heard Elvis Presley’s “Blue Suede Shoes.”
In English.
Things got even stranger when we rounded a bend and discovered a group of revelers swaying to the sounds of a live band outfitted in country western attire performing in a backyard.
We stood and gaped. That’s when a woman wearing a red cowboy hat and holding a bottle of wine swung open the gate and beckoned us in.
Day One in Val d’Anniviers
A chamois steps out of the forest in the Val d’Anniviers region of Switzerland. Pam LeBlanc photo
We’d started the morning in Sierre, a medium-sized city located a two-hour train ride from Geneva, where we’d arrived a day earlier.
I’ve made four trips to Switzerland. This time, however, we wanted a less touristy area than hotspots like the Jungfrau region or Gstaad. We found it in Val d’Anniviers.
We started our five-day trek through the scenic alpine valley when a bus dropped us at a wide spot in the road called Pontis. From there, we planned to hike between 6 and 12 miles a day and hitch the occasional ride on a cable car.
We knew the route was steep. We spent the first three hours of that first day chugging straight up a narrow mountain path. The trail took us over streams, across a swinging bridge, and beneath a rugged cliff where signs warned us not to dally due to rockslides. A pair of chamois – a type of goat that looks like a cross between a deer and an elf – appeared out of nowhere and watched us pass.
Paul Mac Bonvin performs at a backyard party in Chandolin, Switzerland. Pam LeBlanc photo
Eventually we ended up at Ileana Buschi’s backyard party in Chandolin, jamming to the sounds of the Swiss country-rock band headed by Paul Mac Bonvin. (Bonvin told us he had once played with Freddy Fender and Flaco Jimenez. A quick Google search turned up this photo of him preparing raclette for Billy Gibbons.) He couldn’t believe a pair of Texans had shown up at his backyard show.
Bonvin and his band played ZZ Top and Dwight Yoakam. We sampled tortellini and napped in the grass. Then, after three decadent hours, we pushed on toward our destination for the evening,: Saint-Luc.
There, we checked into a cozy hotel called Hotel Grand Chalet Favre.
Day Two in Val d’Anniviers
Chris LeBlanc hikes the Val d’Anniviers in Switzerland in October 2024. Pam LeBlanc photo
We woke up the next morning to much cooler temperatures and a light rain, typical for Switzerland in late September. After stuffing rain jackets and sandwiches prepared by the hotel into our daypacks, we handed our luggage over to the front desk. A taxi would deliver it to our next hotel. Today’s destination? Zinal, a ski resort tucked in the farthest reaches of the Val d’Anniviers.
We began with a ride up a funicular, a type of cable railway system with counterbalanced cars. At the top, we found the start of the Planets Trail. The nearly 3-mile path features replicas of planets, arranged to scale, with educational panels and recordings at each station.
Our brochures promised magnificent views of the Imperial Crown, a semicircle of six peaks (including the Matterhorn), each taller than 13,000 feet. Clouds and fog obscured the mountain view most of the day, but it didn’t matter. Fields of gold and red grasses dotted with boulders the size of Volkswagens made up for it. We scrambled over scree fields and dipped into dense thickets of trees flocked with bright green moss. Like other hiking trails in Switzerland, the Val d’Anniviers route is marked yellow and black directional signs.
Midway through the day we arrived at Hotel Weisshorn, built in 1882 in a meadow above tree line, a row of rugged mountains as a backdrop. We settled in for a cup of tea and the house specialty – blueberry pie made with local wild berries.
From there we continued toward Zinal, making the final descent into town on a steep, eroded section of trail as a steady rain fell. We ducked into the romantic Hôtel Le Besso to dry off, warm up and settle in.
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Day Three
The sunrises behind mountains, as seen from Zinal, Switzerland. Pam LeBlanc photo
Day three didn’t start as my favorite day of hiking, but it finished that way.
We began with a cable car ride partway up a mountain. We disembarked, discovered it had snowed overnight, and started the slog even farther up the slippery slope. With a blanket of white concealing the trail, we struggled to follow the pathway. After 15 minutes of floundering, we spotted one of those iconic yellow hiking signs and finally reached the top. Far below, Lac du Moiry shimmered in an unreal shade of turquoise.
We spent the next two hours making our way slowly downhill, gaping at the surrounding mountains as we dropped below snowline. A marmot popped out to say hi.
The dam that holds Lac du Moiry is huge, and it made my knees knock to peer over the edge to the ground 500 feet below. We made the crossing, then settled in for a picnic lunch in its shadow,. From there, the trail hugs the hillside, winding among boulders and into scrub before descending to the valley bottom. We hiked along a creek, listened to the tinkling of cowbells, and drank in the scenery.
Our home for the night was in the most charming village yet – Grimentz. We stayed at the Hôtel Alpina, a modern take on a traditional Swiss lodge.
With old wooden log homes on stilts, boxes of red geraniums spilling from every window and alleys so narrow you could almost touch buildings on both sides at once, the town is considered one of the most beautiful villages in Switzerland.
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Day Four
We started the day with a steep climb up a ski slope. From the top we peered down on Grimentz. The buildings below looked like toys in the distance.
As we made are way higher, we could see in the distance the dam we’d crossed the previous day. Across the valley, we glimpsed villages we’d passed through during our first two days of hiking.
The biggest surprise came when a snake slithered across the path in front of me. (Who knew Switzerland had snakes?) We picnicked on boulders near a ski lift (closed for the season) and stopped to admire a chapel the size of a one-car garage.
Then, confusion: Our maps told us to go one direction, and a signpost told us our destination of Vercorin lie in another.
We opted to follow our maps. We padded along spongy ground, climbed and dipped and gazed out over the valley. When we emerged past the top of another gondola, we noticed a mesh fence blocking the trail. We hemmed and hawed, then decided the barrier meant only the biking trail was closed. The parallel pathway for hikers, we thought, remained open.
We began our descent into Vercorin.
Thirty minutes in, we heard it –– the buzz of chainsaws. We knew instantly that’s why the barrier had been set up.
We scrambled into the woods, trying to find a way around. I stabbed the palm of my hand on a thorn. Chris darted ahead, declaring our route impassible. We backed out and tried again. After a few miscues, we made it –– an hour late but happy –– into Vercorin.
We checked into the Vercorin Hostellerie d’Orzival and headed straight to the porch, where we sipped beers and promised never to ignore a trail sign again.
Day Five
Chapelle du Bouillet is tucked in the forest near Sierre, Switzerland. Pam LeBlanc photo
On our last day of hiking, a steady rain foiled our plan to explore 12 miles of trails around Vallon de Rechy and Lac du Louche above Vercorin. Instead, we made our way back to Sierre on a shorter and less scenic route. Still, the trail led us through a quaint village, along a sheer cliff, and to the beautiful Chapelle du Bouillet, built in 1844. The structure was named for the spring that flows underneath it.
A few hours later, our knees creaking and our legs blissfully tired, we arrived in Sierre. We checked into Sierre Hôtel de la Poste.
I’m not one for lazy vacations. The best trips are the ones that leave me ready to crawl into bed at the end of the day. This one did that. Even better, it delivered surprises in the form of wildlife, an unexpected snowfall –– and a backyard country music concert.
