Legends in the Bernina Glacier region

How the Munt Pers got its name

The sun was high in the sky as I began my ascent from Morteratsch station to the Boval hut. The fresh, clear air of the Alps filled my lungs and every step on the narrow path felt like a journey into another world. The mountain flowers were now in full color and the branches of the conifers swayed in the gentle breeze. It wasn't long before I reached the tree line and the vegetation became sparser. The view of the valley below me and the glacier massif in front of me became increasingly spectacular, and the whistling of marmots and the gentle buzzing of insects accompanied me on my way. The last stretch took me through rugged, rocky terrain, and then I reached the Boval hut - a modest jewel in the middle of this magnificent landscape. I sat down on the terrace, and while I took in the endless beauty of nature, an old hiker sat down next to me and told me a story of love and loss that had happened right here, in these mountains, a long time ago.

«Can you see back there, where the Pers Glacier and the Morteratsch Glacier meet?" the old hiker asked me. «A long time ago, there was a beautiful alpine pasture where a young dairyman summered on the lush meadows. His name was Aratsch. One day he fell in love with Annetta, the daughter of a rich Pontresina farmer, and she also gave him her heart. However, as was so often the case at the time, her parents did not give their blessing, as they wanted a wealthy husband for their daughter. However, they assured him that they would reconsider if he managed to become wealthy. So Aratsch went abroad as a soldier, as many from the Engadin have achieved fame and fortune in this way. A few years passed and Aratsch actually returned to the Engadin as a captain and was admitted to Annetta's parents' house. But he found his beloved laid out on her death bed - she had died of a broken heart. In agony, Aratsch mounted his horse and galloped up to the alp where they had both once enjoyed happy times. But he rode past it, high up to the glacier, and into a dark glacial abyss. Aratsch and his horse were never seen again.»

«Later on, old Barba Gian was summering on the alp and had been hearing strange noises from the milk cellar at night. He felt as if someone was stirring the milk vats while a woman's voice softly wailed, 'Mort Aratsch, Mort Aratsch' (Aratsch is dead.) It was Annetta's ghost, unable to find peace after the death of her lover. However, it turned out that the cows were giving more and fatter milk, so when the time came for Gian to instruct his successor, he advised him to just let the ghost be. But the new dairyman was a hard-hearted man and he chased away Annetta's poor soul with a terrible curse. From that hour on, the Morteratsch glacier moved forward and soon its masses had buried the alp and the entire side valley as far as the mountain, which has since been called Munt Pers. Only the Isla Persa (the lost island) between the two glaciers and the Boval hut are reminders of the once fertile ground around the alp.»

Fascinated and moved, I realized that I had completely blocked out the outside world. The old hiker's words made me literally feel how the spirits of Aratsch and Annetta still roamed the valleys. I paid for my coffee, thanked the old hiker, and continued on my way with a sense of awe and connection, grateful for the stories and memories that these majestic mountains preserved.