Zermatt to Budapest
08:52 Zermatt--16:38 St. Moritz
17:02 St. Moritz--19:02 Chur
21:14 Chur--21:32 Sargans
22:37 Sargans--09:02 Budapest
An apex day. The train journey of all those planned, with many apexes of its own. So many.
"I love the way the wind caresses the snow... You can see its stretch marks" Ben Norris
Sometimes, when I settle down in bed at night, I can sigh with a satisfaction that's rare. A day well done. A rest well deserved. And sometimes, there's a magical day. One not without challenge. But noticeably special. A day for the annals. For the ages.
This special day started with an alpine feel. A hotel room clad in timber. Alpine cheese for breakfast. A car free ski town, with chalets... and snow! Snow on the streets, snow clothing the mountains, snow on roofs, snow on branches, snow on snow. And the pictures? Forget it. There is simply no lens-capture that can compete with the majesty, depth and awe that enters the iris.
As if these views weren't enough to make a day worth remembering, Ben and I were blessed, on our four seat table, with two extraordinary seat buddies. Molly, a bay area Californian, eurailing around Europe. Ray, a Swiss-German speaking 'local' whose son works in Zermatt as a chef.
Ben saw Molly filling in her eurorail pass with the day's travel, asked where she was going. Molly asked Ray where he'd been. And easy as that, a web of conversation was spun, connecting four poles. "Will you take some wine with me?" said Ray to all of us. At 10:30am. And after filling our glasses, he cheered each of us by name. We did the same.
The Swiss Alps are Ray's territory. Yet still, he gazed in wonder alongside us. Though he confessed his English rusty (he stopped learning around the time I was born), still he conversed with us. Ray felt like a host, telling us about the landscape, the food, the customs. Making jokes. Sassing. And when he got off the train a few hours ahead of us, my throat got lumpy. He made visual jokes through the window. I cried with laughter. And then he came back. "It is ten minutes until you leave", he said.
Just as cameras cannot catch the light playing on snow joy, words cannot convey the mystery of strangers becoming friends in a few hours. Friends that, when they say goodbye, take something of you with them. Friends who, though the road traveled together was brief and the likelihood of paths crossing again slim, have impressed upon you some spirit of adventure and collaboration that is indelible.