Cheeses

That day of August 1980, Neil Kamman and I left to climb the Dent du Cruet, a 6000-foot mountain that dominates the village of La Balme de Thuy. Peppy Neil needed exercise, so we left early on a brilliant Sunday morning. I was actually quite excited; I had not been up there since I was in my teens and wanted to introduce my young fellow to the pleasures of lait bourru, the warm milk fresh out of the cow. I was also looking forward to seeing his face change on reaching the summit, when he discovered Mont Blanc in its glory. All the while I was wondering whether the friends I had made when I was young were still making reblochon in the fold of the mountain just below the summit. I huffed and puffed a bit, but eventually, before we climbed out of the forest, I had found that old mountain climbing rhythm again, acquired in childhood, which for me is the equivalent of meditation.