Into the villages time forgot

Ramble Worldwide walk leader Jane continues her exploration of Switzerland's land that feels untouched by time

There's a moment in every truly special tour when you realise you're not just walking through a landscape, you're being initiated into its secrets. For our Saas Valley group, that moment came when we entered the old quarter of Furggstalden, following paths that have connected these mountain communities for centuries.

The old wooden buildings lean together like elderly friends sharing secrets. These structures, weathered by centuries of alpine winters, tell stories in every beam and shutter. Animals once lived on the ground floor, their warmth rising to heat the family quarters above. Practical, efficient, perfectly adapted to mountain life.

The narrow passages between buildings are too tight for modern vehicles, creating pockets of peace where the only sounds are our footsteps and the distant clang of cowbells. We pause to admire farm implements hanging on walls like gallery pieces. Scythes, rakes, and tools whose purposes we can only guess at.

On the steep meadows above, I spot something that stops me in my tracks. An elderly farmer, still cutting hay by hand, each swing of his scythe as rhythmic as a meditation. In an age of mechanisation, some traditions refuse to bow to modernity. These high pastures demand respect for the old ways.

It's in the churches where the valley's soul reveals itself most clearly. I push open the heavy door of a small chapel, and the temperature drops ten degrees. Inside, the air holds that particular stillness found only in sacred spaces.

I'm not religious, but there's something deeply moving about these mountain churches. Carved wooden saints gaze down from alcoves, their faces worn smooth by centuries of whispered prayers. The altar paintings depict local landscapes alongside biblical scenes, as if heaven and the Saas Valley were neighbouring territories.

The history here is profound. For generations, the people of these valleys believed that rockfalls, avalanches, and floods were divine messages. Faith wasn't just spiritual comfort; it was essential for surviving in these heights. The spectacular churches, both large and small, scattered across villages and hillsides, stand as testament to this deep connection between landscape and belief.

Our walks today take us through forests where streams run so clear you can count the pebbles on their beds. We follow paths that once served as trade routes to Italy, imagining the merchants and travellers who walked here before us, their mule trains loaded with goods and stories from the south.

The morning's Grade 4 route winds through lower elevations, perfect for those who want to immerse themselves in village life and forest paths. Crystal-clear mountain streams provide the soundtrack, while wildflowers add splashes of colour to the green tapestry.

The Grade 6 option climbs higher, offering aerial views of these settlements that look like toy villages from above. Both groups reconvene with tales of discovery. Someone spotted an ibex balanced impossibly on a near-vertical slope. Another found wild raspberries, sun-warmed and perfect. A third discovered a hidden shrine, its Madonna watching over the valley with painted eyes that seemed to follow our movement.

As we gather for dinner, sharing stories of hidden chapels and chance encounters with locals who still speak the old dialect, I can see the transformation in my group. They're moving differently now, reading the landscape with growing confidence. The mountains are teaching them, and they're learning.

Tonight, as I write these words, I can hear the river rushing past in the darkness. The Saas Valley is revealing its layers, each day peeling back another secret. Tomorrow we'll explore new paths, perhaps venture into the wild beauty of Ofental or Furggtalli. We might even treat ourselves to that magnificent journey to Zermatt.

But part of me wants to simply wander these old villages again, to sit in another quiet chapel and listen to the stories whispered by ancient stones. Some places deserve to be savoured slowly, and the Saas Valley is definitely one of them.