Chamois (translated and adapted from an article in NZZ Online by Gerhard Fitzthum, September 2002)

The stony path winds in serpentine fashion higher and higher.  Every so often we come close to the edge a steep escarpment, which obscures the path ahead. At one spot we notice a small figure of the Virgin Mary, esconced in a niche in the cliff wall, a "savior of travelers."  Small comfort!

The place we're heading for, Chamois, is named after the animal which feels most at home in this mountainous terrain.  Comprising five hamlets, Chamois is located 1800 meters above the Val Tournanche, which is best known for its prime tourist destination, the tony resort Breuil-Cervinia at the southern base of the Matterhorn.  Every winter, thousands of tourists drive to Breuil-Cervinia without even knowing that Chamois exists, hidden as it is from the valley floor by a 700 meter high cliff wall.

Our path to Chamois gradually morphs from stony to grassy, as we make our way through a more open terrain. We encounter the first inhabitant, Emilio Lettry, an old man wearing a knit cap, a basket maker who is collecting hazel nut twigs for his craft.  

Then an old wooden cross signals our entry into this corner of the Alpine world.  We see a scattering of hamlets, organic groupings of dark wooden houses on stone foundations.  Detracting from this idyllic pastoral scene are the ruins of farm buildings and a certain disorder;  because there is no auto access to Chamois, residents must pile supplies near their houses and nothing seems to be discarded.  Not exactly picture postcard pretty.

Soon we enter Corgnola, the current center of communal activity.  The proprietress of the Bar Chamois sits on her terrace, knitting, surrounded by a still life of empty lounge chairs.  A bearded man, dressed in faded blue jeans and sporting a machete on his belt, nods as he walk buy.  Two dogs roam through the village.  Everything here is close together:  The ski rental place, the modern town hall, the convenience store, two bars, and three hotels.  But not a trace of tourists.  The high season in Chamois last two months in winter and six weeks in summer.  In between, there is silence.

It's difficult for the three hoteliers to make a living, much less invest in renovations.  The recent introduction of snow cannons has done little to stimulate the local economy.  On a nice winter Sunday, 2000 skiers make their way through town, but they disappear by nightfall.  Andrea Zanelli, the owner of the Albergos Edelweiss, survives by selling water and panini.

Another concern is the decline in agriculture.  There are now only 45 cattle in Chamois, where in 1950 there were 350.  You can see the impact of this change in the landscape.  The wide slopes where cattle grazed an becoming overgrown, including the large expanse of meadowland between Corgnola and Suisse, the remotest hamlets of Chamois.

You reach these places by taking the old path to the neighboring village of La Magdeleine, where the forest is inexorably closing in.  Emilio Lettry, the 70 year old basket maker, is the only full-time resident, and he can only do so much to fend off the encroaching woodland.  The beauty of this ancient Alpine agricultural landscape will soon be history.

Meanwhile, the town fathers must thing of ways to promote local tourism.  One problem is that Chamois is little known outside Italy.  Another is that marketing is handled by the tourist authority in Breuil-Cervinia, which is pitching the kind of apres ski experience that is just the opposite of what Chamois offers.  But there are grounds for hope.  The exodus of residents has come to a stop, as even young people stay in the area - almost all of Chamois' municipal officials are under 40!