The Road Through the Swiss Alps
From Paris, we were Switzerland bound. We hopped on a train and headed to Geneva. From there we rented a car and started our drive through the Swiss Alps, fully loaded with snacks and accompanied by a Jon Krakauer audio book playing in the car, Eiger Dreams.
Our destination was a chalet in the mountains just before Interlaken. Excited and fully into our book, we passed through Bern. We stopped in the little town of Interlaken and found our way to Baren Restaurant (Rick Steve rec) for a Rosti. One of our traveler friends along the way told us to eat Rosti in Switzerland, so there we were, waiting with great anticipation, our Rosti. It’s basically a hash brown, but shaved in ribbons, kind of like how Goodonya does their sweet potato hash browns (OMG I miss that place!), and served with a Brat. This place gets their Bratwurst, made fresh from local farms and delivered weekly, and it tasted like the best Brat I’ve ever eaten - flavorful, juicy, and the real deal. It was served up with a brown gravy sauce with onions, lots of onions.
It had just started raining, so I grabbed a veggie soup, which was pureed, and loaded with aromatics, salted perfectly and then topped with whipped cream. Seriously, I thought that it had to be sour cream…nope, whipped cream, with a tiny hint of sweetness, but mostly creamy and luscious and sitting atop of the salted veggie soup. It made me think, why does the Frappuccino get all the whipped cream love? I think veggie soups should be served like this more often. That good!
After lunch, instead of heading back on the road to our Airbnb Chalet, we made a slight detour and proceeded in the rain, along the road that led up high into the mountains. We had to catch a sight of the Eiger. So we drove. Up and up and up. Finally we made it Grindewald, one of the most charming ski towns I’ve ever seen, decorated with cozy chalets and boutique shops. We went up for as far as we could, until we hit a dead end at a hiking trail. We got out of the car and tried our best to find a clear view of the Eiger, but the drizzle and fog wasn’t going to clear. We took in the fresh air, and traveled back down the mountain, listening even more intently to the climactic descriptions of the Eiger from Krakauer’s point of view.
On the way to our place for the night, the fog was thick and the road was narrow, loaded with switchbacks and kept climbing higher and higher. The crystalline blue lake shrank below, as we continued up into the clouds and finally arrived. It was a huge chalet, that was probably packed with excited skiers during the winter, but now at the end of Summer, it was a ghost town. There were only two other small groups staying there, and us, leaving about 73 empty rooms.
Our room was cozy on the top story with vaulted ceilings and wooden beams, and a balcony looking out into what I would imagine was the lake below, but fog and drizzle were the only things in sight. Occasionally a faint church bell would chime, along with sounds of moo-ing cows and cow bells moving around the pastures. Magic.
We had grabbed some groceries back in Interlaken so I went down to the kitchen to whip up some chicken and veggies, with a salad. The kitchen was big and open and beautiful, and there was an adjacent kitchen 4x as big, which was used for the bustling winter months, I’m sure.
A few guys came down to cook dinner as well, and they were pulling together quite the feast. Korean beef with these gnocchi-like things made of rice, and a decadent mushroom sauce, ingredients they had found at an Asian specialty store in Milan. It put my simple chicken and veggies to shame, and I think they saw me eyeing their goods, because they were quick to offer for us to taste, and then proceeded to give us a hearty serving. We sat with them and enjoyed our dinners. Rob and I were dipping our plain chicken and veggies into the tasty Korean sauce, making it much more enjoyable, and exotic.
We ended up sharing stores, travel plans and laughing for a while with our new friends, and made plans to meet up again after we had a chance to clean up and get settled.
Michi and Big Choi were quick friends. We met them at their room, and on their patio we sat for hours soaking in the warm hospitality and friendship and crisp mountain air. Michi prepared a huge antipasti platter with olives, prosciutto, and cheese and a variety of regional beers for curiosity’s sake. He loved these cheese stuffed pickled mini peppers, and offered those to us as well.
These were the type of guys that would do anything or give anything and everything to make their guests feel welcome. It really shook us. We almost felt guilty. In America, being the recipient of this type of hospitality is somewhat rare; embodying it maybe more so. But why? incredulous, Rob and I shot around some ideas, that most of the time everyone is just too “busy” whether it’s to give or receive that extra step of care. We vowed to change this in our lives. When it comes to gathering with friends, or connecting with strangers, we want to pull out the stops, like Michi and Choi did for us. You’re invited to keep us accountable for this. You’re invited to join us in this.
Hospitality; this is something that I truly love to embody and provide, but I’ll admit that I hesitate giving every last bit of what I can offer, sometimes because I’m too tired, too busy, or maybe because I think that others will take it as “too much”.
But what I’m finding out is that you can’t give too much love, or show too much hospitality. Always give it all. People need it, people are worth it.
Reeling from such a full experience in such a short time (one day and one night), the next day we packed up, found our friends to say our goodbye’s (for now), and headed down the to the main road to continue on our Alps-to-Italy drive.
This car we had was automatic, so I could actually help drive, and I took us through the Susten Pass, high up in the Alps, and as we began the decline, we found ourselves involved in a traffic jam – a shepherd and his sheep, making their way down the mountain. Rob got some killer photos here, that you must see. I kept my cool, and continued down the mountain, as it led us through a 17km long tunnel and then dropped us into the Swiss-Italian border town, Lugano.
Italia, let’s eat!
Feed your sense of wonder,
Chrissy Weir
PS. Enjoy the full gallery here, just click the photo to view the next!
