Pine branches snapping underfoot, you step out from the thick alpine forest into the blinding sunlight which momentarily startles you. A few paces ahead there stands a solitary farm at a wooden sign labeled Le Soliat, nonchalant sheep grazing away at the sparse grass beneath them. A few more paces beyond and suddenly the landscape transforms from a rustic forest outback to a heart-stopping steep basin carved out of the undulating Jura ranges.

The gaping hole appearing to have been punched out of the ground by an asteroid stretches into the distance by a kilometer, the paths curving to either side of you measuring 4 times that length. Peering below, the grooved limestone cliffs drop by 160m into a dizzying pit of firs and sharp boughs spearing upwards. Legs swinging at the edge, you know have front row seats to a spectacle of rock at this echoing amphitheatre by nature. Over 200 million years, each drop from the pouring torrents in the region and the sudden floods of snowmelt from the glaciers in the distance washed away the crumbling limestone. Now the steep rock cut away reveals the folds and bands marking time’s march over earth. Through your bird’s eye view, you may not notice it but the grounds below are lush with life fed by creeks and springs such as the Fountain Froide, a spring in the middle of a sinkhole with 4℃ water year round. Back against a short stone wall, you could spend an eternity marveling at this explosion of flora and fauna.