What’s Zermatter?

The folks at Zermatt Tourism, the organisation that sorts out accommodation, tours and various packages for visitors to the town of Zermatt in southern Switzerland, seem pretty sure of their meteorology. They’re not suggesting that the cloudy skies will clear the following day (my tour group only has two days in the town, and our itinerary is packed, so pinning out hopes on a weather report is a tad stressful); they’re stating that the sun will come out and their product will present itself in all its glory.

Just in case, I go for a walk during that odd gap you’re sometimes give to “settle in”. All that’s necessary there is to open the door to your hotel room, say “Suitcase, meet bed” and lock up again before you go exploring. Heading up the hill behind the Hotel Christiania, the low-lying cloud feels a tad oppressive, and it’s easy to believe that, if you’re in Zermatt out of season – it’s a paradise for skiiers year-round, but in summer, the lower slopes are snow-free, and getting up to the top is expensive – you could very quickly get bored.

Perhaps this is why the houses at the top of the hill, looking down the valley, are all empty and locked up in summer (the opposite is true in South Africa, where second home owners simultaneously flock to the coast or mountains as soon as the temperature gets above 20 degrees), waiting for their city-dwelling owners to catch the train up from Zurich and Bernewhen the snow is thick enough to ski on on all the nearby runs.

The large-scale natural beauty of the place – the mountains – are blotted out by the clouds, but there are plenty of finer details to appreciate, including the love the Swiss have for flowers. The wild variety grow on any piece of land that’s not mowed short, and the window boxes that help create the cliched, chocolate box immage of an alpine chalet are everywhere. Apparently, these potted flowers don”t last for long at this time of year, which is not surprising given that the night-time temperatures drop down to around freezing. Still, all the hotels and public buildings and most of the private homes in Zermatt are decked out in shades of red, pink and purple, and there must be some unspoken agreement to only import fresh flowers under cover of darkness, as nobody seems to be paying attention to them, though such immaculate presentation can’t be natural.

Without this floral adornment; without the blue sky and with the greens of the lower flanks of the surrounding Alps muted in the diffused light, Zermatt’s duochromatic brown and cream palette recalls the two-tone short-sleeve shirts that are the uniform of farmers and game rangers back at home. Short sleeves come into the equation again as you walk – even though you can see permanent snow on the slopes of the mountains not too far above you – it’s simply too warm to wear a jacket.

It’s getting darker and there is no sense of a change in the weather, other than, finally, the merest peak of the flank of the Matterhorn, which wasn’t visible at all when the train pulled in earlier, thus rather ruining many tourist’s expectations – it’s iconic outline is as prevalent on the local marketing bumf as Table Mountain is on Cape Town’s.

Ah, well. You can’t blame officials if they can’t guarantee crystal-clear visibility on the two days in your entire life that you’ll be spending in their town. Get over it. Make the most of the comfortable hotel room, a hearty meal at a local restaurant and the good company of your fellow travellers. Then go to bed.

The next morning is bright and clear. The Matterhorn imperiously lords it over the town, and you can count the needles on the pine trees. The Zermatt Tourism guide arrives and comments, without a hint of smugness: “See? It’s clear. Like we said.”