General view toward the barrage |
Good
Friday seemed like a good day to descend into the ruins of the old
village of Tignes. Sixty years
ago the thriving community, with its ancient traditions of agriculture
and its modern vocation as a ski resort was engulfed under 180m of water, sacrificed for electricity and the greater good of the French nation.
Pont de Chevril (1924) |
We
set off from the hamlet of La Reclusaz, at the Val d'Isere end of the
lake. From there we followed the old road, still clearly defined with
much of its tarmac surface in tact. Below was the dramatic Pont de
Chevril, spanning the Isere gorge 60m below.
Eroded landscape |
From
here one can clearly see the layout of the Vallon de Lac, with the
remains of the hamlets of La Raie, Villard-Strassiaz, La Chaudanne
and Tignes itself discernable under a deep layer of uniform grey
sludge. Decades of underwater erosion has left the roots of hundreds
of trees (felled for timber as the waters rose) on the
sides of the basin, twisted and gnarled into un-natural shapes.
Meteorite or other alien object? |
One large piece of rock catches our attention – it's like nothing else
here and I wonder if could have been a meteorite or something? It
wouldn't seem surprising to find such a thing in this silent, alien
landscape
No sign of life... |
I was
struck by the total lack of any life here. not a single plant, bird
or animal could been seen giving the scene a moon-like quality. I struggle to imagine how there had once been fertile meadows
beside the Isére, with dozens of cows and sheep grazing peacefully
while the steep sides were rich with pines, firs and wild fruit
trees.
Old house remains |
From
a distance the ruins of the dynamited, bulldozed and burnt buildings
just looked like muddy humps, but on getting closer I could see that
the lower parts of many were still relatively unscathed. We pushed open the
thick wooden door of one, entering a cellar room lined with hooks and
brackets for shelves of cheese and drying hams.
Through the plain grill of the window you could for a moment share the view that those
villagers once saw daily; the soaring mountains above and the powerful
river beside.
Passerelle |
Further
on we crossed small bridge across the stream flowing down from
Villard-Strassiaz, which in the 1930s a saw-mill owner called Planton
had used to generate electricity for his machines and to illuminate
the village – the community's first taste of the new energy that
gave it its place in history.
Ruins |
The
density of the ruins multiplies as we got closer to the centre of the
le bourg, where several hotels and a restaurant used to
flourish, products of the village's reluctant acceptance of tourism
as its future as the ancient, inefficient agricultural practices
yielded to the post-war world.
Aubrevoir - still full of water |
The
abreuvoir, where once animals drank and women washed clothes
still sits proudly at the heart of the village. A section of iron
railing marks the edge, perhaps, of one of the flourishing vegetable
gardens slotted between the old chalets.
Remains of Church of St Jacques |
Soon
we came upon the largest ruin, that of the 17th century
church of Saint-Jacques-de-Tarentaise. Sections of its thick
walls lie jumbled upon each other, perhaps here and there are chunks
of the old tower that once soared above the valley.
The church was was the
last building to be destroyed, straight after the last Mass was said here on 20th April 1952. On the same day Mass was
celebrated for the first time in the new church replicated at Les
Boisses, at the heart of the new community that rose from the lake.
A
little further on we reached the ruins of a large building, of which
the lower floor was still intact.
Rooms and corridors... |
Stone sinks |
Workplace |
The network of rooms and corridors could be accessed through the muddy doorway, still furnished with large stone sinks and a stone-slabbed bench, perhaps for some kind of food preparation.
'Le Mur' |
Now
we are at the end of village, as close to the huge wall of the barrage
as one can get. The hum of the turbines in the power station above
and its rushing out-flow waterfall coupled with the strange but
peaceful atmosphere make conversation difficult. Much has been said
about the drowning of Tignes, then and even now there's still much being
written and discussed...
Soon the waters will retake its remains and spirit once more, and the lingering generation will pass on. In this age of global warming and 'energy security' worries we should all be grateful for the reluctant sacrifice made this community and the astonishing achievements that this sacrifice led to.
Tignes Semper Vivens
Many thanks to Rob and Liz for coming with me and taking the photographs.