To travel is to live !
Hans Christian Andersen
Our Vacation in Engadine - Switzerland, August 2003
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Engadine Map
Beyond the mountains, in the farthest corner
of Switzerland , and requiring some dedication to
reach , is the Lower Engadine (Engiadina Bassa in Romansh, Unterengadin in German). Remote
from Chur, let alone from the rest of the country, this attractive valley
nurtures a quite distinct, thoroughly Romansh culture that has been allowed to
flourish in isolation for centuries. Although the Austrian Tyrol is just a few
kilometres away on the north side of the impassable Piz Buin range, it might
just as well be on the other side of the continent. The succession of hamlets
which cling to the banks of the foaming River Inn (or En in Romansh), tumbling
its way towards Innsbruck, the Danube and eventually the Black Sea, show their
Latin origins as much as does the language of their inhabitants: thick-walled
houses stuccoed in cream abound, complete with small, deep-set windows and
scarlet geraniums sprouting from every windowbox, reminiscent of Mediterranean
village architecture found much further south. Everywhere you’ll see the
characteristic sgraffiti decoration – ornate, curlicued designs, pictures and
even mottoes or dedications studiously etched into the white stuccoed facade of
a house to reveal a darker, coloured layer beneath. The beautifully decorated
little cottages and quaint cobbled squares, set against a tremendous backdrop
of dark pine forests and looming mountains, combine to give the fairy-tale
valley a uniquely romantic air.
Scuol is
the main town of the valley, prefaced by a succession of charming cliffside
villages such as Guarda and Ftan. Zernez serves as the gateway for exploration
of the Parc Naziunal Svizzer, Switzerland’s only national park, a vast chunk of
highland wilderness. Beyond the park in tiny Müstair village is one of
Switzerland’s greatest cultural treasures – a Carolingian church sporting
perfectly preserved medieval frescoes.
Transport
in the valley isn’t easy. Trains from St Moritz and, with the opening of the
Vereina Tunnel, also from Klosters, serve both Zernez and Scuol, while
postbuses run northeast to the Austrian border and southeast to Müstair. Timetables,
though, can leave you waiting a couple of hours between buses and unless you’re
on an extended walking tour of the valley, driving is really the transport of
choice, allowing you to detour to hamlets which take your fancy, or enjoy the
sunset in Müstair and still make it to St Moritz well before bedtime.
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The Upper Engadine (Engiadin’Ota in Romansh,
Oberengadin in German), is justly celebrated as one of the most scenic valleys
in Switzerland, a heart-stoppingly beautiful array of forests, snowy mountains
and silvery lakes, raised high at 1800m and looking southwest directly into the
crispest and clearest sunshine in the Alps. The long, straight 55km run
southwest from Zernez takes in a handful of attractive little resorts, all of
them entirely overshadowed by St Moritz, which holds court in mid-valley. In
point of fact, many of the smaller fry – such as Pontresina and Celerina – that
tug on St Moritz’s skirts have more to offer than their mentor, but for a
century past and probably for a century to come, the Moritz name is the one
that sells.
Crossing
the two major mountain passes that lead on from St Moritz delivers you into
small fingers of territory entirely unlike the rest of Graubünden. To the
southwest, the Maloja Pass feeds into the deep and lush Val Bregaglia, while to
the southeast, a road and rail line crosses the Bernina Pass into the equally
idyllic Val Poschiavo. Both are thoroughly Italian, in language, culture and
flora, and both offer a taste of Mediterranean-style living that’s like a
revelation after the high mountain valleys.
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ST MORITZ
sticks out like a sore thumb. Seemingly plopped down unceremoniously amidst the
quiet villages of the Engadine – although, of course, it was here long before
they were, a spa as far back as the Bronze Age – St Moritz is a brassy, in-your-face
reminder of the world beyond the high valley walls, the kind of place that
gives money a bad name. For a century or more, it’s been the prime winter
retreat of the international jetset, who over the years have created a mini-Manhattan
of Vuitton and Armani in this stunningly romantic setting of forest, lake and
mountains. When the tourist office trumpets St Moritz’s “champagne climate”,
they don’t necessarily mean the sparkling sunshine – although there’s plenty of
that as well, 322 days of it a year on average. And yet the town itself is
neither cosmopolitan, attractive nor graceful; its ski-slopes engaging but – compared
with Davos or the Jungfrau – generally undemanding. What St Moritz has that no
other resort has is the name, and that glisters better than gold, enough for
the tourist board to make it a patented registered trademark so that no one
else can touch it. Presidents and princes, Hollywood starlets, nobility and
nouveaux riches clamour to be associated with St Moritz, and the place gladly
responds, turning on the razzle all winter long with a endless round of
banquets, celebrations and spectacles centred around the frozen Lej da San
Murezzan lake, including horse racing, polo and even cricket on ice. Summer is
downtime, when the hoi polloi arrive to hike and relax in the sunshine. The
range of sports and activities on offer both in winter and summer is vast, but
despite the hype there’s not much sense of adventure – all that money tends to
get in the way. The final, mortal blow is that the Swiss themselves turn their
backs on St Moritz: less than a third of the town’s visitors are locals. Like
Leicester Square in London or Fisherman’s Wharf in San Francisco, it’s good to
see St Moritz … but it’s a relief to get away.
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