Of all characters in fiction, it's Maria from The Sound of Music that I most closely resemble - we both sing, we both dance, we both hate Nazis. While in Europe, I was determined to find an alpine meadow to run around in.
So like the von Trapps, we escaped to Switzerland under the cover of darkness, although our transportation was the night train from Amsterdam to Zurich. We've done this before, and it's always fun to fall asleep while trundling along and then wake up somewhere else, but trying to get washed/dressed in a tiny cabin with three bunk beds is a challenge. We left The Netherlands at 9pm and, being a Swiss train, arrived right on time twelve hours later.
Zurich is a fabulous, clean, open city, and quite cheap if you refuse to buy anything. We were soon on another train that looped its way up and up into the mountains, towards our final destination of Andermatt. It was around this time that I realised the flaw in my plan: there was snow. Lots of snow. And not nice, powdery, fun snow, but slushy and icy grey stuff, covering all the green fields and edelweisses.
We had arrived on the last day of ski season, heading in entirely the opposite direction as every other holidaymaker. Not necessarily a bad thing when you enjoy peace and quiet, but everywhere (including the hotel swimming pool) was shut. "Why did you come here...?" asked the lady in the tourist information when we inquired about nearby hiking trails. "The cable car is shut, but you can walk up the mountain if you like. It's not super dangerous," she added confidently.
But, in the Davies manner, we made the best of things! We took a train up to a ski resort, which was entirely abandoned, a sort-of post apocalyptic horror film setting, with the remnants of humanity poking menacingly out of the snow. Things were beginning to melt down in the valley, with the first buds of spring breaking through, but then the next day it snowed - like, really snowed. 40cm of the stuff, making me wonder why they'd stopped ski season in the first place. Luckily our hotel (which was as populated as The Overlook from The Shining) had sleds we could borrow, and where better than an abandoned ski slope to do that?
As quickly as the snow came, it left, making me appreciate that people who run ski resorts know more about ski seasons than me. Finally there was a chance to cavort and gambol through (quite soggy) pastures, as well as purchase myself a Swiss Army knife; surprisingly, one of the cheaper things you can buy in Switzerland.
Then it was time to say goodbye to the peaks, valleys, and clear mountain air, and take multiple trains all the way back to Brussels (the miracle of door-to-door public transport is going to be a BIG miss when we move from here). I didn't quite get to fulfil all my Dame Julie Andrews fantasies - who does? - but I climbed every mountain and crossed every stream that I could find.
