A Virgin Trek to Switzerland's Alps. Why Zermatt?
Switzerland has always fascinated me -- through television, movies, even food. And having been to Geneva, Basel and Zurich, all add-on trips to European river (and other) cruise assignments, what's both intrigued and eluded me has been its villages lying along the valleys of the Alps. I've flown over them so many times, between Munich and Genoa or Nice, but never have I been "in" them.
That's what this short trip is all about. Coming off a milestone birthday, it seemed rather urgent to visit a place that truly feels otherworldly (at least far apart from my usual life). Why Zermatt of all the villages and towns in the Swiss Alps? I'll confess: I was re-watching The Night Manager (Amazon Prime, starring Tom Hiddleston, Hugh Laurie and Elizabeth Debicki -- it's marvelous) a few weeks ago and the first episode has scenes shot in and around Zermatt. I wanted to get lost here, for a moment, just as its characters were lost.
I knew this: Zermatt is purely a tourist destination. So I didn't bother to look too hard for what was real beneath it. I just enjoyed it. Terrific restaurants, lots of people even in summertime for this winter resort (nice in this pandemic-era to see such a diverse crowd of tourists, from Asia to the Middle East, and from the U.K. to the U.S.).
In the “low-lying” valley that's Zermatt (nearly 5,300 feet above sea level, where the highest peaks tower above 14,700 feet or so) you are surrounded by great green spruce walls. The mountain tops are snow-crusted even in June. A river, purely run-off, runs right through Zermatt quite ferociously. The fury of the rushing water, similar to the effect of a grand waterfall, leaches any dissatisfaction that still might linger. It's a similar color to Iceland's sulfur lagoons, the palest blue, but without the odd egg smell. And the scent in the air -- in the morning it reminds me of my beloved California's Central Coast, a hint of cedar mixed somehow with herbs and dry dust. The mineral aspect of this smells as if you licked a rock that came out of a clean lake.
At night, when restaurants fire up their grills, all of Zermatt smells a bit like a barbecue.
And of course there's the Matterhorn, brooding magnificently from above, watching over the town whose tourism it inspired. Sometimes you see it, sometimes clouds obscure it. But you know it's there. It offers a sober message that Zermatt is not all about resort frivolity. The Matterhorn and other peaks remind you this is brutal, rugged terrain (maybe not so much in the summer, when the meadows are gentle and the flowering weeds are colorful). Another reminder: In the cemetery surrounding Zermatt's parish church of St. Mauritius, is a tombstone honoring a British couple, who fell to their death while climbing in 1963. I only saw this one; I’m sure there are more.
Aside from a few wonderfully level streets, everything around here rises up, steeply, and of course down. There's not that much traffic and of course no cars or trucks; hotels have battery-powered shuttles that whir, gently, as they brush past you. Locals ride everywhere on bikes. I wondered why they all seemed in such a hurry and then realized that every bicycle is an electric model. They whiz through the streets with quite the same whir; it's actually pleasant unless you step out into "traffic" without looking both ways.
I adore my hotel, right in the heart of town. Unique Hotel Post is, incongruously, an oasis literally five minutes to the train on foot, and it's got a spa, several nightclubs and a bunch of restaurants. Fortunately, this is summer, the quiet season, and so the nightclubs aren't too active, which I appreciate. What I have liked about it most is that it is sleek and contemporary in a peaceful way. Walls alternate between stone and knobby pine, beds are dressed with crisp linens, there are bespoke bath products, private balconies, and not a hint of kitsch. The included-in-your-rate breakfast is superb; don’t miss out on the rosti with egg and bacon. Service is Swiss; formal and yet personable.
For someone whose job as a travel writer is to scrabble beneath the surface of unfamiliar destinations, what bliss it has been to simply be a tourist. I was inspired by this line, paraphrasing Robert Redford in The Horse Whisperer, urging a guest to his Montana ranch to “let yourself ease into the place.” And I did just that in Zermatt.
Tomorrow, I head up into to the Alps for a day that combines wellness and gastronomy. Meaning: You have to hike down a vertical mountain to get to Chez Vrony -- and hike back up again after lunch. I can't wait. I’m planning my outfit around my walking shoes.