This post covers section 4 of our clockwise hike of the Tour du Mont Blanc, starting in Champex-lac, Switzerland and ending in La Fouly.

Start: Champex-Lac, Switzerland

End: La Fouly, Switzerland

Mileage: 10 mi / 16 km

Elevation Gain: 2360 ft / 719 m

Elevation Loss: 875 ft / 267 m

Auberge: Auberge des Glaciers

View full route on Gaia

Our night of storms turned into a few days of storms, starting with this day and continuing during through Italy. But, being the hopeful hikers we are, we didn’t put our rain gear on as we left our delightful little chalet in the morning. We made it all of fifty feet before nature scolded us for our mistake, sending us into a small covered hay shed where we immediately put all of our rain gear on—and took it off five days later.

Overall, this was a fairly lackluster day. It was long, wet, and without much in the way of scenery. But it did involve my favorite meal on the TMB, so that’s a victory not to be skimmed over. We spent the day walking through medieval villages, across pastureland, and under the dense canopy of forest.

From Champex-Lac, we walked three miles along country roads and through intermittent forest to Issert, a minuscule town tucked in a lush Swiss valley. It seemed to be a gamble if anything would be open in the small villages we passed through—especially in inclement weather—so we didn’t have high hopes that there would be a place to grab coffee, especially given the pint-sized sprawl of Issert. But then, up ahead, a bright orange awning beckoned and the small café it covered was thankfully open.

Café du Châtelet was a ray of sunshine on our rainy day. We grabbed a seat on the porch, ordered cappuccinos and sandwiches, then rested while we waited for them to arrive. And when they did arrive, it was as if every other sandwich I’d eaten were mere piles of ash between slices of bread. Now, you wouldn’t think that lettuce, cheese, tomato, and a glob of mustard stuffed between croissant-style bread would have the power to shake your soul, but there I was, sitting at on the porch of Café du Châtelet as rain splashed my side, soul shaken.

The sandwich, simple as it was, was the best food I had on all of the TMB. I wish I’d ordered a second one to go, but I know not to make such mistakes next time. A Canadian couple at the table beside us, introduced as Rory and Brinn, were witnesses to our sandwich baptism and we chatted with them briefly about our respective treks before we left our sandwich haven behind.

From Issert, we continued the day’s journey through bright green pasture land to Les Arlaches. Soft mist fell upon us as we hiked along a hillside, which, I can only imagine, offered stunning views of the mountains around us. In our case, we were only privy to a seemingly endless wall of fog. But the gloomy weather seemed to match the ambiance of Les Arlaches, a quiet, medieval hamlet with an odd penchant for miniature objects and rock art. As we walked through the village, we noticed tiny figurines made of wood lining the house’s window, and stone art stood proudly in their yards. The people of Les Arlaches are also particularly talented in the art perfectly stacked wood piles.

From Les Arlaches, we entered the forest and hiked up a gradual hill that had occasional spurts of steepness. The mist had turned to rain and it was a quiet, somber day of walking, though Mikki and I are never at a loss of things to talk about and we made the best of it. Then, we happened upon Rory and Brinn, the middle-aged Canadian couple from the café in Issert. They were sitting upon a rock eating lunch and we stopped to chat with them for a few minutes.

“You two are always so happy,” Brinn told us, and Rory nodded in agreement. “It is gross out and yet you’re so positive. I just love it.”

We shrugged and smiled. To us, it’s not “positivity” but realism. If it’s going to rain, it’s going to rain, and we’ll enjoy it as best as we can, simple as that.

“I love that you are going clockwise, too.” She was referring to our earlier comment that we opted to hike clockwise to avoid the crowds. “There are so many people and they just talk, talk, talk. I agree that it’s best to not be with ‘talkers.’” Rory nodded in agreement again.

“We actually talk a lot!” we said. And we do. Mikki is one of the few people in this world that I never, ever run out of things to talk about with. And when we aren’t talking we are content in silence. It’s an easy friendship and I highly recommend that everyone find a similar one, they are glorious.

“Yes, and you’re so happy! But it’s not like you’re talking the ear off of another person,” Brinn says. “I had this girlfriend, god did she talk so much. I couldn’t stand it.”

She went on about this friend and we couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of her talking our ear off about it. But we like Brinn; she is a feisty woman who just wants to keep to herself, or so she says. Her and Rory were delightful to encounter and we enjoyed lamenting about the “talkers” of the world together. When we made our way to leave, we wished each other a good hike.

“Oh, you’ll have a wonderful time, you always do,” she said, as if she’d known us for years.

After parting ways, we had one last ascent before reaching La Fouly. The way to it was along a river which was flanked by a steep rocky cliff on one side. It had rivulets of water slipping down it, making it look as if it were covered in an endless stream of small waterfalls. We happened upon a stone shelter near the river and took a quick rest break before continuing to our final destination for the day.

I imagine that La Fouly is a beautiful town. According to images on Google, it is a small skiing village tucked between rising mountains and rolling hills. Our version of La Fouly was reminiscent of being in a foggy snow globe. No views, just walls of gray that had no intention of leaving. Our accommodations, Auberge des Glaciers, was unimpressive. In fact, it was one of my least favorites on the TMB. I’m thinking it has more to do with being in town rather than a remote area, so it didn’t feel as hiker-friendly.

The dining area was the only place to hangout on a rainy day but since it was a public restaurant, we were asked to move. The dorm rooms were tight and had squeaky metal beds and the bathrooms in the basement were mildewed. To its credit, the private rooms looked nice, and the showers upstairs were far more pleasant. Plus, on a sunny day it would be enjoyable to sit on their patio and take in the views that are allegedly there. The grocery store beside it is also handy. In hindsight, I wish we’d just grabbed snacks from there instead of ordering a pic-nic from the auberge. Overall, the auberge wasn’t the worst but not the best, which was fitting for a day that also wasn’t the worst but not the best.