swiss miss: Crans Montana

After an amazing weekend in Crans Montana, a snowy, tourist-filled ski site in the mountains directly above Sierre, I had every intention of posting photos and writing a new blog entry ASAP – Sunday night, or Monday night at the latest. Unfortunately, my penchant for procrastination seems to have followed me to Europe. How annoying.

Anyways, let me catch you up.

I woke up Saturday morning to a nice surprise of chocolates and tulips sitting on the kitchen counter. What are these doing here? I wondered to myself. And so I read the note left from Matthieu, apologizing for the three loud, late-night dinner parties held in the apartment (which I didn’t really mind so much), and thanking An-Céline and I for attending the school’s art open house that Friday. It was just the sort of pleasant morning that makes for an equally pleasant day. The Swiss know how to treat you well.

Later that night, however, is when the true adventure began. Yet another example of Swiss generosity, An-Céline invited me to spend Saturday night with her and some friends in a chalet up in the mountains, and really, how could I say no to that? We left early Saturday evening, taking the funicular straight up the mountain. Throughout the entire vertical climb, I couldn’t help imagining what would happen if the brakes gave out on the poor thing. I had to keep reminding myself that broken brakes would be a disaster, and not the amusement park ride I wanted it to be. Basically, Cedar Point should invest in some Swiss-themed rides, that’s all I am saying.

View from the funicular

Once the train came to a stop, I had to do a bit of a double take. Obviously, I know mountains are cold and snowy, but the drastic shift in climate after only a 15-minute journey was incredible. Sierre had been sunny and mildly warm, without a single flake of snow on the ground, but Crans Montana was a pure winter wonderland. Even in the dark, I felt like I had walked into the land of perpetual Christmas (the daylight, which brought with it even more snow, increased the Christmas-like atmosphere by tenfold, if not more).

Night time view of Sierre from Crans Montana

We arrived at the chalet, which in all essence was a chalet-looking apartment in a huge chalet-looking building. I don’t have any pictures of the interior, but it was just the sort of ski-resort meets chic 21-century design that you would expect of a swanky Swiss tourist site. I could just feel the money trying to escape from my purse…how did I end up in this upscale alternate universe?! Quite a different experience from my time in Madagascar, it’s been a rollercoaster of a year.

Outside of the setting, however, there are so many instances here where, if it weren’t for all the French, I would think I am in the States. Spending the night with 8 of An-Céline’s high school friends was no different. There were the usual playful insults, the loud and crazy antics, the sing-alongs to the most horrendous pop music (which is mostly American music, to my surprise), and even the occasional scenes of drama, which, of course, no night out on the town would be complete without. It even turns out the Swiss play kings, and yes, I do mean kings, the drinking game. The night was filled with an amusing mix of French and English, drinks and laughter. It ended with a quick bout around some Swiss night clubs, which, outside of a much wider range in age due to the looser drinking laws here, are exactly the same any other night club you’ve ever been – loud, hot, and crowded.

Of course, there is a certain level of sophistication in Switzerland that a night out on an American college campus lacks. I have only been here for a short time, but every night I have spent with a group of people has involved a wonderfully cooked dinner, on actual plates, with actual silverware. Even the pizza was classy. Certainly, eating any food with a knife and a fork brings with it a certain level of refinement, but eating pizza with a knife and a fork, followed by a delicate field greens salad and accompanied by a drink, well, that’s just the epitome of sophistication. And even before we began truly relaxing and playing, every dish was either placed in the sink or loaded in the dishwasher. American college students do not have the capacity for that kind of forethought. Plus, what’s cleaning without a good hangover to help out?

In the morning, An-Céline was nice enough to take a walk around town before we headed back to Sierre. She knew I was dying to take some photos, and she didn’t ever lose patience with me, even though I made us stop every second and a half to take yet another picture of the mountains. They were too pretty; I couldn’t help myself! I’m such a tourist!