In the Alps you’re on top of world

Zurich - After an overnight flight, four high-speed trains and a cable car up into the snow-covered mountain village of Riedersalp I found myself grappling with a different mode of transport - snowshoes.

Our guide Ed Kummer, a former school teacher, explained that the shoes were handy for farmers who needed to trek to their barns to check on the animals after heavy snowfall.

He proudly showed-off a pair of snowshoes from yesteryear; they resembled an old wooden tennis racket, but had served him well during his military service a few decades ago.

We were on a media recce to explore the winter offerings of Valais, one of 26 cantons (a territorial district, or state) in the heart of the Swiss Alps.

We arrived at the tail end of the cold months. There were signs of spring in the beautiful scenery which flickered past in the train’s large window in the three-hour journey from Zurich to Mörel station.

Buildings and the outer city’s walls defaced by graffiti morphed into hills dotted with alpine chalets, farm animals and the occasional burst of colour from yellow and purple flowers starting to bloom. No snow. My heart sank. The train snaked through the long and dark Lötschberg Base Tunnel through the Alps.

Voila! Out the other side, we were greeted by beautiful vistas of snow-capped mountains.

We took a cable car to Riederalp, a holiday resort in upper Valais. A thick blanket of snow covered the ground, the ice on the trees was crystalline and the alpine chalets’ roofs were weighed down by a dense marzipan-layer of snow.

It was here that I had to wrap my head around walking in snowshoes. I was grateful that I had had some shuteye on our overnight flight. Edelweiss’ Economy Max has 15cm more leg room and 5cm more room to flex your elbows.

Armed with ski poles and snowshoes we made our way even higher up the mountain on a ski-lift to Moosfluh, 2 333m above sea level. The panoramic views were breathtaking.

Kummer pointed out the mountain peaks, from the Geisshorn (3 740m above sea level) to the Aletschhorn (4 193m above sea level).

Then he pointed to a smooth stretch of ice, the Aletsch Glacier which is 23km long. The Swiss are very proud of this “27 billion metric tons of ice - the biggest and most powerful glacier in the Alps.” The Aletsch glacier and a protected forest of the same name, home to the oldest pine trees in the country, form part of a Unesco World Natural Heritage Site. After Kummer shared these facts and figures it was time to put on our snowshoes and hike down to Villa Cassel, which held the promise of a sunset picnic.

We strapped on our snowshoes, each fitted with a metal claw for grip in the snow. The fitter members of our group ploughed up the slopes and downhill as if trained by the Swiss army.

I opted for a more cautious, even glacial pace at times.

The teacher in Kummer encouraged me, and promised he would pick me up if I fell. But when I looked again he had disappeared around a corner.

We finally made it to Villa Cassel, once owned by a wealthy banker who liked its position because it was isolated and only accessible by mule.

Today, it is an environmental centre and is open to holidaymakers in summer. The stop was a welcome break. We shared a tough but tasty fruit and nut loaf. I washed mine down with bottled water and the others had a generous slug of gluhwein to ease the cold.

As the sun began its slow descent behind the mountains we mustered our reserves and marched on, crunching through the snow. The proposed 90-minute hike turned into three hours. Tired, I lost my footing and slipped down a slope. Kummer and another member of our group heaved me up. My butt was wet, I had snow in my pants and my feet were aching.

All this was exacerbated by the great ease and finesses with which the locals moved in the snow, some gracefully skiing on other slopes, others Nordic walking, and even a jogger in a short sleeved T-shirt ran past us up a hill.

When we finally retired to our rooms at the Hotel Royal, part Art Furrer Hotels, I lapped up the creature comforts. The centrally heated, modern rooms combined luxury with rustic finishes, wooden floors and ceilings. The view overlooked a golf course, the greens white with snow. Bare trees cast shadows over the landscape against the backdrop of the Valais Alps. The silence was bliss; there was not even a cow bell within earshot. The resort, a car-free zone, has 80 residents and only a few snow vehicles to prepare the slopes. In peak season tourists numbers swell to 10 000.

But at this time of the year there were only a handful.

The following day we took a cable car down to the Mörel, then a short train trip to a town called Fiesch. There we took two cable cars up to Bergstation Eggishorn, 2 869m above sea level. Tour guide Martin Nellen cautioned that we might feel a bit woozy from the altitude. He was once a cattle farmer but traded in his stock to become a ski instructor and tour guide. At the top there was festive atmosphere as locals celebrated St Joseph’s Day, a public holiday.

Skiers and snowboarders took to the slopes at high speed while hang gliders majestically soared across the blue sky. An oompa loompa band entertained the crowds who tucked into generous helpings of a traditional dish called raclette (a comfort food of gooey, melted cheese) served with potatoes or bread, pickles and drinks.

Nellen pointed out famed Swiss mountain peaks - Eiger, Monch Jungfrau and the majestic Matterhorn, a staggering 4 478m above sea level.

We got another view of the Aletsch glacier. Nellen has trekked across it with group of intrepid hikers. “You walk forward and you never look back,” he warned. Like a Yoda of the Alps, during his tour Nellen churned out mantras to live by: “If life gets boring, risk it.”

So I took his advice the following morning and hitched a lift to the cable car on a James Bond-style snowmobile. It was better than a shot of espresso.

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