A GOOD DAY IN THE AOSTA VALLEY
LE PONT –> LA CLUZACS
VIA ALPINA DAY 57 – MONDAY 17AUGUST 2026
DISTANCE HIKED: 31.20 km
ELEVATION GAIN: 2,130 m
TOTAL DISTANCE HIKED: 1,462.38 km
TOTAL ELEVATION GAIN: 76,626 m
The morning started with that strange, dog-bark-like sound again—the same muffled sound we had heard a few days earlier. We sat in silence with our torches off. The second call sounded as though it came from exactly the same distance. “An owl?” I suggested to Hammer. He agreed, which made us feel better. He even came up with a name: a “barking owl”.
We continued packing and were on our way before 6am. It was still dark and cold as we began the ascent to Col Citrin, at 2,482 metres on elevation. It was a struggle to find any rhythm. My hands stayed cold even after we emerged into the sun.
Passing a couple of derelict huts made me feel sad. Sad for the generations who had built these shelters from whatever materials were available—stone, wood and those incredible slate-shingle roofs. The craftsmanship, the labour and the lives lived in these structures, now reduced to ruins.
The trail was well marked and beautifully graded, both on the ascent and the descent. We didn’t stay at the summit for long. We were keen to get down into the valley to the one restaurant/hotel we hoped would be open and serving meals. There was nothing else offering food along the trail until tomorrow.
About four kilometres down from the Col, we discovered there was another restaurant, the Trattoria Lo Grand Baòu. We could see day hikers, cyclists and a family walking their dog leaving the car park near the restaurant, but it wasn’t open yet. It was so bizarre. One minute we had been walking through a completely silent morning, seeing no one, and suddenly there were people everywhere.
As we continued, we passed a few hikers and cyclists heading towards the Trattoria, or perhaps up into the mountains. Our target was Vens, a tiny hamlet another seven kilometres away, where there was a restaurant.
We arrived in Vens around midday—perfect timing, I thought. I went inside the restaurant and it was empty. My heart sank. We were starving. I called out and a man appeared and told me they were closed because they had had so many people the day before. I begged him for anything they might have left over in the kitchen.
Instead, he let us stay. It turned out he had one pre-existing booking and a family group coming for lunch, so we were added to the gathering. Sweet relief—we were going to get lunch. Beef stew and polenta were perfect for us, and he even made us ham and cheese rolls to take away.
An hour and a half later, we skipped out of there, ready to complete the descent to Avise and begin a long afternoon of climbing towards the historic ruins around Baulin.
There are so many tiny hamlets scattered along the way, with the ruins of lovely stone houses topped with slate-shingle roofs. They are such a distinctive feature of this area and a reminder of the generations who once lived in these remote valleys.
Light rain followed us as we descended after lunch. We were so relieved that it didn’t get any heavier, and by the time we started the climb out of the valley, it had stopped completely.
The seven-kilometre climb with 1,110 metres of elevation gain was slow, just as we expected. Once we climbed above the trees, we had distant views of a small glacier. There was water everywhere, and near the historic ruins towards the top, gushing streams had been channelled into pipes.
It was getting late in the day and we needed to find a quiet spot to camp. We started descending towards the Valgrisenche valley when the perfect spot appeared—visible only to hikers who happened to look in the right direction.
We got the tent up, enjoyed our delicious ham and cheese rolls, and went to bed. A good day in the Aosta Valley. It had completely wiped away the disappointments of yesterday.
