Monthly Archives: January 2015

Srsly, this place is so old skool rustic pretty.

And like Cindy Crawford in her prime, it’s impossible to take a bad shot of this grand old dame.

Behold the valley of love:

La Virgin Mary oversees the vistas, providing her holy blessings from the protective vantage point of a vandal-proof cage.

Spending time with so many Friends of Putin (FoPs) here in Zermatt, one starts to question one’s normal evening alpine get-up of ski jacket over boyfriend jean. Those FoPs really put that oligarch cash to good use on the plastic surgery and style fronts.

So this year the ante’s been upped: here’s what we’re wearing. Well, avant and après anyhow.

This is la favourite J Crew cashmere festive jumper, très boxy, worn with the J Crew endless shirt for awesome buverage (bum coverage) and just a touch of Jenna style.

Prior to the trip, La stocked up on jumpers from ye olde J Crewe. Loving this (very moi) blue turtleneck — great too for hiding the turkeyneck. Goes smasho with these elastical-waisted Witchery dacks and la favourite walrus-tooth Pucci chain: ghetto fabulous.

Loving too these new J Crew sparkletops with super split sides. Working well with los sparkle neckpieces. Good over the old endless shirt.

LIVING in these J Crew Turner pants:

Unlike my good friend JPong, La’ve never mastered the art of the stylish puffer. This old Country Road job is doing for now.

And once we get to Londra next week La’ll shimmy on into this new J Crew stadium cloth coat.

All in all,  it’s come together as a pretty good snowy capsule. One good thing I’ll say about the FoPs (and there’s probably only the one): they make you raise your style game.

These are my firm friends: what they lack in style they make up for in toastiness.

Now — what we’re reading. This is passable.

This is amazing: how can you go wrong with main characters called “Bastard” and “Darling”?

And I almost felt physical pain and grief when this was over — La’s best read in years.

Bloody love that Kris Kindle.

Since his noggin injury, male JCC has been confined to quarters, and me with him. Thank ye gods for Lego. Our incarceration gave La all the time and excuses needed to photograph three quarters of the travelling wardrobe.

Our diet has known better days. I blame old Seriousimo; he gets to Switzerland and nutritionally morphs into his former three-year-old self. It’s Haribo and Milka all the way.

Matterhorn-shaped (and -sized) pizzas aren’t great for the midsection either: thank the blessed Virgin Mary for the drapey, elasticised pant.

And the loin fruits have fallen in love with these: “spitzbubes”. *sniggers*

Seriousmo has man flu. We’ll need all the blessings of the gods and the Virgin Mary to help us on that front. Mentally repeating wedding vowels: in sickness and in health…

Off for a Kir Royale or drei… x

It’s a busy time of year for los Swiss Alps; standing room only on the Matterhorn Express, even for pampered Euro pooches.

One traveller’s placement of his board right in the middle of the aisle did little to disabuse la famiglia Trivialista-Seriousimo of its low opinion of the “bum crew” (what we call snowboarders, as that’s what they spend all their time on).

To pass los hours, La deployed a fish plait in the female Junior Cost Centre’s (JCC’s) hairs. She was unusually impressed. My lack of hair-faffing skills are a constant source of disappointment to her.

We arrived in Zermatt to loads of snow, and equal loads of people. Lots of FoPs (Friends of Putin — our name for our Russian friends).

Dined at one of our favourite strudel-doodle restaurants, Grill Stockhorn. All was good until both loin fruits fell asleep in their respective schnitzels.

Picked up our ski gear the next day and was slightly alarmed by the sight of these scary man pants. Srsly, they frightened my small children, and prompted more questions than Triv had the inclination to answer.

Day two we lunched at the Cervo, a classic study in refined Alpine retro hunting kitsch.

Parmesan fries doused in truffle oil are not what you need to kick-start a new year’s resolution to become lithe and lean. But they were worth every lard-laced mouthful.

Remember La said old Europa does a good line in doors? That theme continued, with a few quirky twists.

Took in some general prettiness.

Apparently Niki Boutique is the place to shop for easy kids. Not sure what you do if you have hard kids.

This used to be a bar.

This FoP pooch was looking super comfy on the picturesque trail to Riffelalp. His mum was about 22 with a full facelift already under her size 0 Bottega belt, and his dad was pushing 73. That ill-gotten oligarch cash sure comes in handy when snagging trophy wives and maintaining the body temperature of sledding chihuahuas.

Then, two days ago, all the pampered pooch-spotting came to a crashing halt as the male JCC skied into a pylon and concussed himself. (Yes, he was wearing a helmet; one that now sports a huge ding.) A quick inspection by an über düber Swiss mountain paramedic resulted in the calling of a chopper to take him to hospital in Visp (one hour and eight minutes away by train, eight minutes away by chopper, apparently).

Beaucoup de draaaamaaa! Nothing stops a mountain full of schussing skiers quite like the emergency landing of a bright red medi-chopper. Seriousimo loved the flight though; especially after his insurers said all was sweet at their end.

Male JCC’s room had a better view than the penthouse at RPA.

Thankfully he received a clean bill of health after six hours and CHF274,870.

Can pretty much guarantee his mountain rescue story will get the Year 2 “what did you do on your holidays?” news round-up off to a cracking start in 2015.

Auf wiedersehen – for now x

The Trivialista-Seriousimo caravan is once again on the road.  After a lovely Christmas dinner cooked by La Mamma and Il Pappa Trivialista, we took to the skies and landed in Zurich on Boxing Day.

Met this well-behaved guy at breakfast.

On the recommendation of Ms Travel Without Tears, we stayed at the amazing Hotel Widder. Its little deco details gave La some Tonia Todman-style inspiration for Palazzo Trivialista.

The shower was like some ninth wonder of the world.

Srsly, there were jets pointing at crevices I didn’t even know I had, let alone knew were in need of a wash.

And — luxe of luxe — a schlosshaffen* of fluffy towelfleisch. Enough to cleanse four grubby Australians of all their travelling sins.

Once officially clean enough to be in Switzerland, we went for a stroll. Signor Seriousimo, back in his Happy Place of old Europa, took in the vista.

You have to hand it to old Europa, it does a great line in doors.

La paid homage at one of my favourite breeds of retail institution, the European pharmacy.

Swear La’m never walking into a Chemist Warehouse again.

We wandered by the river, and enjoyed the bella vistas.

All was good, until we witnessed a swan self-harming.

All those bits of white are his feathers, which he was aggressively plucking off his swanny body. The male Junior Cost Centre (JCC) was most distressed, so we pressed ahead until Seriousimo stopped to ogle a piccie of his favourite mountain…

…La spotted Adele’s next Grammys frock (srsly, she can thank me later)…

…and a few less-than-subtle hints were dropped about this puppy as a late 40th 35th birthday present.

The male JCC was done in by all the excitement. Oh, and the viciously long flight from the Harbour City.

We snoozed, and woke up to this:

Snow! Which is handy, as that’s the whole point of this travelling malarkey.

We headed off to the station and La remembered that, to juvenile minds, some jokes never get tired. *sniggers*

Next stop:

Happy 2015 x

* Swiss-German collective noun for a large group of terry cloths.