February 25, 2025 by Scheherazade Merchant
Switzerland. It was THE destination to vacation in, when we were younger, before it became more fashionable to “explore” newly discovered places like Croatia & Montenegro. So after many years, we returned to Switzerland for the first part of our vacation. Making Gstaad our base, we are doing relatively relaxed day trips out to various places, while stationed in a super apartment hotel shared with old friends. Very cosy and nice.
And when the kids are asking, what we are DOING?
How can I explain, that even doing nothing is delightful. When you are in comfortable company, everything is nice.
Not being involved in the planning of the trip, but basically going along with the group, and landing up, our reference point of Switzerland is usually Zurich, Geneva, basically cities. So arriving into a village, a real one, was quite a delight.
Since it’s the end of the season here, we are missing the crowds, some shops & hotels shutting to re-open in mid-June for summer, and the hotel not packed. Great, its like our personal space.
But step outside and all the wonders begin. Just outside we see cows grazing, the occasional herd of sheep as well. The sound of cowbells, loud and clear, broken by the incongruity of the sound of a car roaring on the road behind, simultaneously reminds you this is no longer a scene from a picture postcard. Memories of childhood stories like Heidi, the mountain girl, are possibly set in such imagery.
Green mountains, some snow caps still visible, tiny houses, possibly easier to heat in the cruel winters, now adorned with perfectly laid out window-boxes of multi-coloured seasonal flowers, all a feast for the eyes, and greet us as we walk each day to the Promenade.
Houses that have piles of firewood chopped to a precise length, neatly stacked up awaiting the next winter season. Swiss precision at its basic best.
The Promenade is just a lane filled with really high-end stores like Prada, Chopard & Louis Vuitton, some places to eat, all architecturally Swiss chalet style. No commercial modernity to spoil the pristine look of a Swiss village. And now and then we see cranes and construction work, and accept that soon, the concrete structures will creep in and take over the typical wooden architecture, and so it must be, the old giving way to the new.
And perhaps we will point to a old photograph sometime in the distant future and tell our grand kids, “we actually saw wooden houses in Switzerland” which will probably be met with an eyeroll. But for the moment it is for us to enjoy.
We wander into shops selling souvenirs, the kind one tends to buy and forget about once we get home, but still buy! I succumbed to some Caran D’Ache sketch pens that the Lord above knows I don’t need, justifying to myself that I did not have those particular shades.
And they were selling postcards. Who even writes postcards these days? And where would you buy a stamp and be able to post them? I used to post my parents a card from where I travelled back in the day but now, in our impatient lives of instant gratification, where we are connected instantly, who has the time (or need) to write postcards, or even pen a handwritten letter. What about telegrams, fax, telex, some of these words our kids don’t even know, Telex? Wtf.
I love that we can drink water at the many fountains that dot the country, fill your bottles or drink at the tap. Pure and cold. And each of these water fountains are unique in design.
Walking home late evening, after a leisurely lunch, a couple of coffees and aimless shopping, we see slowly, the lights coming on in the houses, the smoke spiralling out of the chimneys and one knows that houses are getting ready for the night, earlier than we are used to and by 9.30 its all dead. We have, after all, come at the end of the ski season, in perfect weather for us, 9-18 degrees C. Slight sprinkle of rain occasionally.
Moving to the balcony of our apartment we take in the view of the setting sun and suddenly one is hit by the strong smell of cow dung. Hell, even in fancy First world places like Switzerland, we are reminded that cows will crap and their shit will stink.
