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.
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