(written a few days ago)
A couple days ago, we jumped on a train just to be in a warm, dry place for a while and make a bit of progress on the journey. As soon as we stepped out of the train station in Klosters, I could tell that our last town in Switzerland was going to wring us out for more Frankencents than we wanted to spend. After wandering around the pristine town in the drenching rain looking for a place to stay for the night, we were pointed to the Adventure Hostel. The room was 120 CHF (~ $145). Did I mention that this is a room at a hostel? But we took it. It was clearly going to be the cheapest option. Besides, the place was basically a place for guests of this mom and pop adventure company. The proprietor, Wim, is a super sweet paraglider pilot guy. I was so happy to find a friendly Swiss guy who was willing to chat with us. I think it was about three sentences into our conversation when he revealed that he is Belgian and he moved to Switzerland for the quiet. Well, he certainly got that! It’s the quietest place on Earth.
After a kebab, Europe’s burrito, we settled into the attic to watch the final women’s world cup game and drink a couple beers.
The next morning, Wim got us free passes onto the gondola to get us partway to Schlappinger Joch, our pass onto Austria. I had begun to picture Austria as a sunny, happy shangri la with laughing, jovial people skipping through the edelweiss. After the stillness of the Swiss German culture, I had become starved for friendly faces. I knew it, of course, and we joked about the disappointment I could be setting myself up for.
Although the clouds didn’t open up at the border to shine warm rays of non-stop sun on us, it really was like we stepped out of the Twilight Zone when we met our first Austrians. They yelled hello from far away, they waved, the kids hid giggling behind rocks to jump out on the trails, they waved from cars and porches, they asked where we were from… They laughed! Oh, the sound of laughter was like a giant umbrella and a down blanket by a warm fire. Did I mention that it’s freaking cold here still?
Ok, as I mentioned in a short update recently, we met the Nicest Guy in the World. The following day after a stormy night spent in a guest house in Gargallen Ostreich, we were searching frantically for a campsite after a decent, sunny day of hiking, before the next round of horrible weather set in. We had been caught out in the rain in similar circumstances only the night before and really wanted to pitch the tent and have dinner before it started dumping.
We happened upon a log building with a huge picnic table in it and a ever-flowing fountain of drinking water out front and a WC in back. Nearby was a small climbing area with a good spot to pitch the tent. Two locals were hanging out talking when we pulled up and started inhaling our snacks and staring, longingly at our maps. We were sort of waiting for them to leave so we could really settle in there.
As it turns out we really hit it off with Harry, a fifty-something guy from the village who was happy to practice his English and answer our questions about how to find and choose a good local cheese, why all the water flowing out everywhere here is potable, what the heck was the deal with the massive reservoir down the road, etc.
It had begun to rain and Harry was on his bike. Before he left, he suggested we just camp right in the shelter. Yes! He said he’d swing by layer to see if we would like him to set up a tour for us through the biggest energy plant in Europe.
We were laying in the tent a few hours later listening to an audiobook when Harry appeared with a bottle of wine and three glasses. We talked for a long while about his 1979 crazy trip through 38 of the states and our summer trips, what it must have been like for the Swiss during WWII, skiing here and skiing in Tahoe, more about cheese, and all kinds other other things. As he got up to leave, he invited us for breakfast the next morning (today).
His house is a beautiful place with an open layout and massive windows and a sliding glass wall with views of the mountains and all the rain. He had gathered about ten kinds of local cheese, homemade strawberry jam, alpen rose spun honey, several breads, meats. I liked every kind of cheese he shared, especially the sauerkase and the sharper of the berg kase. The honey was insanely good and makes me want to try more spun honeys at home. Harry insisted on packing up a little of each cheese for us to take along with a pile of bread. What a sweet guy. He almost made us not care that it has been raining all damn day again. Like the woman at the tourist office said, “At least it only rained once today.”