During a trip to Saint Moritz I decided to trek Muottas Muragl in the Engadin region. You can go up the mountain, which is more than 2000 feet high, on a funicular and arrived at the Romantik Hotel. Here, you can have cup of coffee, sandwich and chocolates at the hotel’s cafeteria before embarking on your hike along the pristine snow circuit, and then return to base for another round. It reminded me of one of Agatha Christie’s crime series, “The Labours of Hercules,” in which the Belgian detective Poirot spent some time at a Swiss hotel high up in the mountains.
I had my camera and a video simultaneously in active mode to capture the spectacular and breathtaking view of my surroundings. I refused to leave behind any scenes of the time spent there. During the hike, I met a Swiss lady from Zurich who told me she comes to this mountain for walks on a regular basis to get away from it all. Apart from her chattiness, the only other sound was snow crunching under my boots.
You will find markings to assist you along the path. I cannot but stress how important it is to obey the signs. It is here that I learned a very important lesson in obedience. In the initial, I followed the trek and did not stray. I was not sure what to expect, and lacking the confidence of an experienced hiker, I decided to follow the signs. In the meantime, I was trying to figure out why people were carrying ski poles when they were not skiing. I soon learned the hard way.
As I ascended higher along the slope trek, I found it difficult to balance myself, and because I had a haversack with me, I felt as if I was being pulled from behind. Those sticks would have made my experience much easier. As someone born in the tropics, what do I know? Nevertheless, I should have done my homework.
I continued, my breathing heavy. I noticed a few quirky sign posts with sayings from famous people, including Ernest Hemingway. Also, there were park benches to soak up and enjoy the view of the landscape. The stillness of the snow felt like a soft bed welcoming the sleeper to a dreamy slumber.
On my way down, I saw a boy taking a short cut across the plateau. What a silly boy. Didn’t he read the signs? And then I saw a woman doing the same. I thought maybe they knew something I didn’t. It would most certainly save me a lot of time retracing my steps back to the hotel if I could cut through. What the heck. Everyone’s doing it. I might as well. Big mistake.
Halfway down, I found myself slumping to my thigh in the snow. Unlike the woman and the boy who were both light weight, I had failed to consider my own. Two questions popped into my head: Am I going to sink into this snow quick sand? Worse, could this be a cornice? I might fall through!
I tried to keep calm. Did I have a choice? I took another step forward, probing the ground for solidity. Yes. One step at a time.
Well, I survived to tell this tale. I was lucky this time. Next time I’ll wear a wing suit, just in case…
