[Ed. note: This is a guest post from our good friend Claudia who came to visit because she didn’t believe us that it could really get this cold somewhere in the civilized world. Unfortunately (or rather fortunately) by the time she arrived the temperatures had considerably warmed up.]
February. A time to escape icy city pavement for sunny Caribbean beaches; or visit your friends in Switzerland and really–truly–embrace the winter in all its glory. While you’re at it, you must also embrace the Swiss, starting with the train (which incidentally departed 11 minutes late!): red parkas (they must have amazing sales on these, or maybe it’s a symbol of national pride–the only thing I know for certain is they can’t all be ski instructors), yogurt, and dare I say, untimely (and unsightly? the olfactory version…) passing of gas in closed spaces. The latter two must be related.
Did I forget to mention rolling waves of fluffy snow and breathtaking mountains around every bend? Letting the sun go through at just the right angle, at any angle, to give you the “best” view (THIS is the best view–no, wait, from this side it’s better–hold on, what about THIS one)? Mountains where I would certainly not be skiing given a) I’m Venezuelan, b) have terrible knees, and c) a rather embarrassing propensity to fall when my feet are attached to anything other than shoes (un-elegantly speaking, I’m a bit of a klutz). But hey, I do like sledding (“Perfect!” they said, “we’ll go sledding).
The mountain of doom, also known as Muottas Muragl.
Arrive to the top of a scary (but beautiful of course) mountain on a neat little mountain tram. Posh hotel on the top, expert looking sledders all around (admittedly, I must have looked like one, too); how bad could it be? Sledding is easy!..when sledding on cardboard boxes or plastic trash bags on rolling hills in Pennsylvania. Several falls later with pro-sledder Conor as my guide, I was prompted to try it on my own. Never mind the ultra steep incline and harrowing curves, behind which lies the great beyond, otherwise known as the precipice. Go!
Went! Swooshed down that hill like a lime-green ferrari; shit, there comes the curve; there comes the HOLY SHIT it’s SHARP curve; BAM! Foot stopped me from falling to the abyss, but not before slamming straight into the wooden pole that marked the barrier between life and idiocy. How did I forget to fall off the sled (a sudden surge of camaraderie?), when I was so good at it five minutes ago? I guess I’m not much of a sledder, either.
Ugh...
But thankfully still have strong bones, made stronger by life-changing cheese fondue on a terrace overlooking a glacier (winter in all its glory, as I mentioned).
[…] Claudia (remember her?) came to visit us last week we had to come up with some more exciting things to do than sitting on […]