Ski is the Limit
St Moritz is the glitziest
Alpine playground to ski, luxuriate in spiffy hotels and gorge on posh nosh
St Moritz. The pretty
Alpine town hooks me the moment I disembark at its train station, clutching my
first-class Swiss rail pass, the ticket to a scenic, three-hour, two-stop ride
from Zurich. The crisp mountain air hits me sharply, even though I am togged
out in multiple layers of clothing, dressed like a self-regulating ecosystem as
it were.
Thankfully, succour is at
hand. A liver ied chauffeur is waiting to transport me in a Mercedes SUV to the
Badrutt's Palace, a palatial, 1896 lakeshore hotel with an icon ic tower facing
the crystalline Lake St Moritz. The 120-year-old property oozes elegance that
Robin Leach would have approved of for his Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous
programme. Yet, inside the Badrutt's revolving door -an ostentatious world of
Italian marble, chandeliers and exquisite carpets -there's a sunny atmosphere.
And good cheer. Not to mention priceless intangibles, like the Alps playing
peekaboo from every other corner.
Given the hotel's pillared,
cavernous depths, baroque ceilings and winding, carpeted stairs, there's a
wonderful amicability about the property and its impeccable staff. From my
room, the high-alpine Engadin valley looks as if it has been crafted by an
artist's hands: snow-swathed mountains soaring to vertiginous heights of over
13,000 feet. I leap out of bed each morning to witness an awe-inspiring
chiaroscuro playing outside my window, the snow, the sun and the mountains
working in unison to create a scintillating elemental symphony.
Perhaps it is for these
accoutrements that the cash-lush nip up to St Moritz from all corners of the
globe, flying in their private jets straight into the Engadin airport in
Samedan. They are hard to miss around town, kitted out as they are in fine
boots, silken Hermes scarves and Chanel dresses. St Moritz seems like a
pilgrimage spot for them, a must-do in pursuit of la dolce vita: to gawk at the
Alps, ski, luxuriate in spiffy hotels, shop for the world's finest fashion
labels and gorge on posh nosh served by Michelin-anointed chefs.
Beyond sybaritic pursuits,
St Moritz also offers an intriguing mix of nature, culture, sports and culinary
experiences. With its four stellar peaks -and 350 km of pistes -Engadin St
Moritz is touted as one of the most extensive and stunning winter sport
regions, showcasing the highest summit in the Eastern Alps, the Piz Bernina.
The region remains a dream
destination for fans of snow and ice sports, a vital venue for the Ski World
Cup, Winter Olympics and international competitions. In 2017, once again, St
Moritz will host the Alpine World Ski Championships whose posters grace the
town's walls.
It hosted the Winter
Olympics in 1928 and 1948. This year, it wears a festive look as it pops the
bubbly to celebrate 150 years of winter tourism. “Throughout the year, we'll be
hosting numerous events to highlight our long-standing tradition of winter
tourism with participation from across the world,“ Yvonne Geiling of the
Badrutt's Palace informs me. “Top-class events are planned on the frozen lake.
We have the St Moritz Snow Polo World Cup, the St Moritz Gourmet Festival and
the White Turf Horse Race.“
Once Upon a Winter's Day
Yet it wasn't always so. In
the early 19th century, St Moritz was but a somnolent town, almost comatose in
winters when temperatures plummeted to minus 20 degree Celsius. However, in
1864, Swiss hotelier Johannes Badrutt, owner of the Badrutt's Palace Hotel,
created an eco system for what would become Eu rope's first winter holiday
resort and an Alpine playground for the rich and the famous.
Badrutt bought and
developed two properties in the region, the Badrutt's Palace and the Kulm
Hotel. However, business still remained dull in the winter season. So the
inventive entrepreneur enticed four Englishmen to leave drab 9 London and come
to his hotels in December 1864, promising them sunshine, a free stay and a full
ticket refund if they weren't happy. The guests didn't leave until Easter! Word
soon spread. The chichi set came flocking, nobles like Kaiser Wilhelm II and
Tsar Nicholas II, the Shah of Iran apart from Friedrich Nietzsche and conductor
Herbert von Karajan. The glitterati followed suit: Alfred Hitchcock, Charlie
Chaplin, Brigitte Bardot and her husband Gunther Sachs along with the world's
new privileged class, the bankers, business tycoons and wealthy heirs. Cinematic
glory wasn't long in coming. St Moritz featured in Hitchcock's 1934 thriller
The Man Who Knew Too Much apart from at least two James Bond films and the play
Private Lives by Noël Coward.
Snow Biz
Badrutt's vision gave birth
to winter tourism in Switzerland, which has now blossomed into an all-season
obsession with all manner of sport, including bobsledding and the Cresta run,
where participants race head-first through ice. The race begins under the
town's 12th century leaning church, said to lean more than its cousin at Pisa.
“Engadin St Moritz also
features three different ski areas: Corvatsch, Corviglia and Diavolezza,“ our
ski instructor Marcus informs me as our gondola negotiates precipitous
gradients to get to the Engadin slopes where we are booked for skiing. However,
my attention is splintered between Marcus and what Navya Naveli Nanda (Amitabh
Bachchan's granddaughter is a guest at the Badrutt's Palace and standing right
next to me in the ski lift) is chatting with her girlie gang.
I tear my gaze away to
finally focus on Marcus. “Corvatsch is where highly experienced skiers and
snowboarders head to as it is the highest-altitude summit station in the
Eastern Alps, at 10,837 ft. It also has the longest floodlit night run in
Switzerland. Diavolezza or the `ballroom of the Alps' offers a special 10 km (6
mile) glacier run down to Morteratsch,“ he adds.
The views get more and more
gobsmacking as we climb higher. I train my DSLR lens at the 360-degree panorama
outside the gondola's glass. Of the mighty glaciers, some rise up to Himalayan
heights, sculpted by elements into delicately moulded crests and hollows.
The writer, Charles
Bukowski, once said: “Some people never go crazy. What truly horrible lives
they must lead.“ These are the words that come to mind as I spot intrepid
skiers whooshing down ski slopes so steep it makes my stomach churn.
No matter. Next day, I'm
excited to make a dizzying ascent to the Bernina Glacier. The gondola stops
halfway up, at the last cable car support. The wind whiplashes me from all
sides, piercing through my ears and nose; fear preventing me from looking down.
This is a different world, with less oxygen and icy temperatures. To me, it
feels like the Arctic.
Yet it is remarkable to see
how the Swiss have embraced the craggy mountains, leveraging their proximity to
nature to derive maximum pleasure from them. Also, pa Our ski instructor Susi
Wiprachtipain.ge who is pushing 60, tells me of the ger, countless c times she
has tumbled off ski slopes sl and broken her bones. Yet her face f radiates
child-like enthusiasm eve r time she talks about the sport.
No less exciting is the way
the ancient and the modern rub shoulders in S Moritz, balancing the competing
St imperatives of life. Wooden chalets and traditional Alpine homes inter
mingle with pine-scented modern condominiums costing CHF100,000 a week. At one
point, Susi points to steel magnate Lakshmi Mittal's capacious mountain home
with a tower ing chimney. “This entire region,“ she gestures, “hosts homes
owned by the wealthy.“
We take the funicular all
the way up to Muottas Muragl at 8,000 feet to gawk at the snowy panorama and
say hello to a St Moritz icon, the gorgeous, quietly capable mountain goat.
There's lunch planned too, at the sun terrace of Berghaus Diavolezza: a
selection of local cheeses served with pear bread, a grison (air-dried meat)
plate with cold cuts, chard leaf stuffed with spaetzli dough and airdried beef
floating in a sea of cheese.
Not Just Ice Lollies
You will always eat well in
St Moritz. At a sitdown dinner one evening at the Badrutt Palace's Le
Restaurant, Michelin-star chef Edgar Bovier serves up a sensuous five-course
Mediterranean Sun Menu. Lobster salad with hazelnuts from Piedmont jostles for
space with pan-seared scallop, Colonnata bacon, baby fava beans and buckwheat
shavings. Another course has a roasted John Dory with artichokes, marinated
fennel and bottarga (cured fish roe) and sun-dried tomatoes. The piece de
resistance is a braised Simmental beef fillet with black truffles followed by
dessert, a sorbet-filled Menton lemon with basil-glazing and creamy tart.
To explore St Moritz's
snow-crusted, Chronicles of Narnia-like landscape from up close, one morning we
take a horse-drawn carriage (thoughtfully blanketed with thick Merino wool
rugs) to Val Fex. As the carriage negotiates the winter wonderland, I try to
comprehend a new geography. The landscape is harsh but ethereal, defined by
striking stretches of frozen lakes and rivers, seemingly endless flat stretches
broken intermittently by pine trees and frozen rivers.
The clip-clop of horses'
hooves over tiny, bituminised roads resonates like Dolby sound in this milky
amphitheatre. At the end of the 60-minute ride, we huddle excitedly in a
mountain-top taverna cupping our hands around steaming mugs of gluhwien (mulled
wine) and spooning into apfelstrudel redolent of vanilla sauce. Just as the
iridescent orb is dipping into a syrupy orange horizon, we head back to town.
It is snowing by the time
we get back. Tiny flecks of snow fall like wispy confetti in slomo to the
ground, giving St Moritz an even more dreamy spin if that were possible.
|
Neeta Lal
|
ETM10APR16
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