Swiss village in Alpine valley votes to turns its back on $1.2 billion goldmine The debate sowed deep dissent amid the timber-clad homes and quiet streets of the villages dotted along the valley, where people speak Romansch, a language descended from the Latin of the Roman legions who conquered the region 2,000 years ago. There was a battle between the two halves of the village, for and against the mine. A lot of people don't like to talk about it," said the owner of a delicatessen selling cheeses, cured meats and sausages, who refused to give her name because of the bitterness that has been stoked up. The referendum result was unambiguous - while 90 people were in favour of allowing gold exploration to go ahead, 180 were implacably opposed. Many people feared that the valley, with its crystal-clear streams, coniferous forests and timber barns, would have been irrevocably scarred by the mine, from which around five million ton of rock would have been dug. The area is the epitome of Alpine tranquillity - when The Sunday Telegraph visited Curaglia, the largest single village, it was all but deserted, the quiet broken only by the tinkling of bells around the necks of goats in a wooden pen on the main street. Eagles soared in the mist swirling around the high peaks which form a dramatic backdrop to the onion-domed parish church. In winter the pass leading into the valley is frequently closed by avalanches and heavy snowfall. "The mine would have had a big impact on the valley, there would have been a huge cost to the environment," said Nicole Venzin, 17, who works in a clothes shop in the town of Chur, 45 miles away, because of a lack of jobs in the valley. It was not just environmental worries that fuelled the 'no' vote. Young men in the villages worried that the 200 miners needed to develop the project might steal their girlfriends. Even the young women were unenthusiastic about the prospect of an influx of newcomers. "I don't want a lot of people from another country coming to work here," said Iris Monn, 25, who works for the valley administration and voted 'no'. It's very peaceful in the valley. But if the mine was allowed there would be a lot of cars, a lot of people. Lorena Bundi, 17, who works in a pharmacy, said: "There would have been more children in the school, and it would have been good for the shops, but what about the rivers where we go fishing?" But Thomas Boehm, 41, who works in the Hotel Vallastscha, which has the only bar and restaurant in the valley, said the mine would have reversed the valley's long-term demographic decline. Ninety of its inhabitants are over the age of 75 and young people leave as soon as they can because of the lack of work. There are no ski lifts or chalets and the only tourists who come here are fishermen, cross-country skiers and hunters in search of red deer and chamois. The mine would have been very positive. Look at this picture," he said, pointing at a black and white print of the village from 60 years ago, showing two children in grubby smocks playing in an unpaved back alley lined with wooden-tiled houses. If nothing new happens here, the valley will go back to how it was then. There'll be no future for young people. The village is dying but people here are only thinking from one day to the next," said Mr Boehm, a German who has lived in Switzerland for 18 years. The mine would have been developed by a Canadian firm, Vancouver-based NV Gold. Some preliminary drilling in the 1980s, and more recent geological tests, showed that the snowy peaks overlooking the Medel Valley are rich in gold ore. The tests showed that the local rock contained 10 grams of gold per tonne, which is double the minimum for a viable mine. Nobody really knows how much gold there is, or where a mine would have been sited, because the referendum result squashed the chance of any further exploratory drilling. But John Watson, the company's president and CEO, estimated that the mine could have yielded around 800,000 ounces of gold, which at today's prices would have been worth $1.2bn. The villagers would have received a share in royalties amounting to 30-40 million Swiss francs. There would also have been money spent by miners in shops and businesses during the estimated 10 year life of the project. Local taxes and rates would have been slashed, businesses would have been offered cheap loans and there would have been bags of cash for new projects to inject life into the valley. Mr Watson said that past negotiations had led him to believe that the villagers would approve the mine unanimously at last Sunday's referendum. It would have had a very small footprint but it wouldn't have been invisible. It would have required parking lots, buildings, that kind of infrastructure. They were asking us what it would look like. We couldn't tell them with any accuracy because we haven't done the exploration and we don't know where the ore might be. Am I disappointed with the decision? The mine would not have been an open-cast scar on the valley. "It would have been accessed by a tunnel into the mountain," said Mr Watson, speaking by telephone from Colorado. One of the mine's biggest proponents was Peter Binz, the mayor of the valley, whose eye for a business opportunity has been honed by his day job with PricewaterhouseCoopers in Zurich. The population is declining - there were 850 people living here in the 1960s - so we are looking for new opportunities. The mine would have brought fresh blood. We cannot stay as a museum - we need a future for our young people. To do nothing is not an option - that way we will just continue to die as a community. Such arguments failed to sway the majority of the valley's inhabitants. The conservatism for which the Swiss have been renowned for centuries ultimately snubbed out calls for change. "The money would have been nice," said 17-year-old Nicole Venzin, sitting on a bench on Curaglia's main street as elderly women entered the tiny supermarket with shopping bags. But what sort of future would we have if we ruined the environment?