And Outside The Rain Fell...

It is the period just before dawn that is perhaps the most spectacular part of the day. With the earth bathed in pale blue light, snow capped mountains stretching all the way to a horizon, and little towns, with little huts, their chimneys whispering wisps of steam, shining bright against the lights reflected by hundreds of little christmas trees. This was my first impression of Switzerland. It was beautiful. And virgin perfect.

As the train winded down the beautiful Interlaken valley, i struck up conversation again. This time with a lady from Atlanta, USA. It's delightful, when you can talk to people without inhibitions, when you know that your friend later will not be taunting you about an otherwise stupid remark made, when you just find company in strangers. And we spoke and spoke and spoke. The journey down was absolutely surreal, and both of us let out involuntary "wow's" several times enroute. A village in the valley completely shrouded by a cloud several feet high, like a blanket shielding a child from the cold. A solitary church spire the only thing visible from between the clouds- the child peering from the blanket out of curiosity. The village dead still as our train travelled down to the valley- the child merrily asleep.

This analogy was not drawn by him, it was my fellow stranger who did so. Her imagination ran vivid, and she identified faces in the mountains, colours in the lake (I quote "Even Crayola does not make a blue that vivid"). The water indeed was almost turquoise, and my 35+ stranger friend almost had a child in her while she spoke. Eager to travel home for Christmas, uncommonly curious about my education, fascinated by Diwali and Holi, describing herself to be a bad photographer, she was fascinating. And we hit it off well.

Bidding goodbyes, I took off for my next leg of the journey, Mt. Titlus, and spent half an hour in this beautiful little village called Stanz (recommended by the ticket checker), as i waited to join my friends. Stanz was beautiful, made even more beautiful by the call of one lady, I thank her now. Sprawling meadows with steep snow clad mountains serving as the backdrop, dew covering everything, from windshields to barbed wire, bells hanging from christmas trees to the coffee vending machine outside the station. I was loving Switzerland. Every bit of it so far.

Boarding the train again, this time to Engelberg, i realized I was sitting in a coach that would be delinked with the rest of the train soon. The train manager smiled at me, saying, "no stress, you get off at the next station. No stress at all. This is Swiss land". Ha ha. You cannot help but smile then.

Joining PritS and Patwa soon, who treated me to sakkath khakra, I was rather surprised to see the coach full of Indians. I later, in the evening, cracked a rather sad joke to PritS- "Simran must be the most famous Swiss girl". It's funny now, isn't it? Sad, but funny?

I think I was in one of those quirky moods of mine where I was cracking sad jokes throughout the day- judging by the number of indians of board, it seemed the train was going to Lokhandwala. Ha ha. I am funny. I know. PritS and Patwa are probably the only known exceptions who believe otherwise. I know, i know.

So, the train pulled into Engelberg after a surprisingly steep side, and there we were, blue icy mountains everywhere. I don't know how to describe Titlus. I've seen snow before, yes. I'm seen fresh snow. But this was different. To see scores and scores of skiers(?) fly down the steep mountain peak, that was amazing. To have an almost 60 minute cable car ride up, with three different legs, with drastically changing landscapes, that was amazing. From bright green meadows, onto dead grass, frost covered ground, dead blight afflicted ground, and finally, miles and miles of soft snow all around. Titlus. 3000 metres above sea level. 2000 ascended in an hour. And -9 degrees to the thermometer. Wow. Our hands numb as soon as we were out in the open, the icy cold wind blasting loose snow across our uncovered faces, a snowball flying here, another there, this was ruddy brilliant! Freezing, trudging along, skidding, watching the reason skiers(?) in awe, and worrying about "chillblitz(!)" this was amazing. Totally. Completely. I don't remember how many hours we spent at the top, on the glacier, on the peak, basking in the bright sunlight, icy blasts of wind blowing across our faces, writing names on the snow, or clicking photographs, but after a trip down and up again, I suddenly was so thoroughly exhausted even as I climbed an ascent less than 200metres high. My cough did me no good either, and i was continuing with my paste of honey and turmeric solely for the taste.

It was only when we were back down did I realize that it was almost 4. A futile hunt for food later, we were off to Luzern. The train, well, apologies, but might as well have been called the Gujarat Mail. So full was it of us. It's a nice feeling, in a way, to have so many of my fellow nationals in my midst. Also surprising, in a way. Of how one family of directors could sell an entire country to a billion people. The messages in Hindi everywhere were testimony to the fact. Indians love Switzerland, and rightly so. It's every bit as beautiful, as amazing, as good.

The next 5 hours now seem hazy, Pizzas, a supermarket whose name i forget, Zurich, a brilliantly lighted street, and St. Gallens. It didn't matter. I had enough memories already for the day today.