The train to St Moritz passes through mountain tunnels, above achingly sentimental swiss towns, along the shoulders of snow-laden peaks, on top of stilt-like fieldstone viaducts. I'd never seen anything like it.
I now understand why alpine (lower case) is an adjective.
I climbed the hill behind my hotel- smiling at the mountains beneath the full moon. A frolicking dog bounded over and despite it speaking no English I taught it to give paw (lefty just like Miss Jerz). Its owner laughed and repeated the hand signals.
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| View from my Hotel Parking Lot |
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| Chalet next to my hotel |
downhill
flat (some 60 year olds swooshed by),
and up towards the valley's end (everyone swooshed by).
It took me an hour to get my technique back, and by the 3rd hour I was too exhausted to maintain it. My host had counted on us going 50% further than we did!
He also went to boarding school here.
Lucky bastard.
Mulled wine never tasted so good as in the st moritz roundabout. I watched the polo on ice for about 5 minutes
then headed back to my hotel (I had yoinked nutella and a croissant from the breakfast buffet). I wished I had a cigar.
La Baracca- the famous St Moritz watering hole- is next door to Hotel Nolda. They seated me with a lovely italian-swiss-irish family (father was former swiss over 60 squash champion). They graciously included me in their conversation (everyone over here guesses I am canadian btw) and it turned out the father was a former UBS board member. His wife gave me one of her CD's. It was a wonderful meal- understated and great food. Not at all like most swiss restaurants.
Sunday morning I set out to the valley's end and skiied across the frozen lakes. 30 degrees, sunny, and surrounded by mountains.
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| Maloja Lake |
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| Beautiful Chalet |
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| Craggy Mountains |
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| Lovely Wooded Trail |
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| Swiss Pond Hockey Championships! |
ending up in the famous Palace Hotel, drinking hot chocolate on the back balcony, looking over the valley, immersed in the wonder of it.
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