(by Francesco Limacher)
Like last year, my husband and my son took two days to take a hike in the Alps and my son was so kind to write this post about it.
My father and I began walking from a town called Ossasco, in Switzerland.
The trail leading to Cristallina was steep and perilous at the beginning, but soon twisted into a relatively even stone path after we had passed the Alpine farm which sold fresh Swiss cheese.
In the stretching Cristallina valley, we came across a group of fifty French speaking pathfinders, assumably from the French part of Switzerland. And as we enjoyed the grass tundra landscape, we walked with them, sometimes behind the group and sometimes before the group when they stopped for a rest.
We heard a group of marmots whistling a few hundred metres away from the gradually steepening snake of a trail, probably wishing us good luck as we entered the pass. Rocks littered the ground, as if a giant had dropped them across the mountains. So the path was tiring, slacking our pace to let the scouts pass on.
Nevertheless, I had already set my mind to be at the hotel before lunch. Who can blame me when we had only started at eight. So we walked on, our strides getting ever higher. Although my father asked for a rest I refused: we had to be there before lunch! We just had to…
Finally, after much perspiration, we arrived at the Cristallina mountain hotel. It was surrounded by piles and piles of rocks and partly coated with blankets of snow. We entered the rectangular building and had a peek inside our wooden rooms. We shared our room with six other visitors. Being the first ones there, we”reserved” our spots by dumping stuff on the beds nearest to the window.
The view was spectacular. You could see miles ahead to a group of grey mountains behind a closer small oval lake, encrusted with mounds of rocks of various shapes and sizes. We decided to have lunch outside that day, in the pleasant evening sun.
Later, we supped in the dining area where first Minestrone, then Polenta with Goulash and finally a stracciatella cream dessert was served in generous amounts. With our stomachs full, we went to bed. I remember closing the window before I turned in, to keep off the insects.
But I woke in the middle of the night, sweating under the warm bedsheets. Regretfully, I also woke exactly at the time my father was sleeping. You can’t imagine how loud he slept… I was just about to give up on trying to sleep and reaching for my Kindle when I heard the sweetest sound. Silence. Soon I drifted to sleep.
On the next day, we had breakfast with fresh brown bread, muesli, cheese, ham and, of course, spoonfuls of Nutella. We then headed off the way we had come, much quicker this time as we went downhill. In fact, we made such good time that my father suggested that we go to the ropeway leading directly to Airolo, a two hour hike from the Alpine farm. So we went, and soon regretted our decision, walking up roads steeper than the trails leading to the hotel, whilst we were blinded by the rising sun. But somehow, we managed to trudge on, keeping our eyes on the road ahead. It seemed eternity until we reached the lift, managing to catch the next ride down to Airolo. Once down, we took the train to Biasca and were picked up by my mother and our dog, Paco.
Footsore and tired, I would still recommend the hike to anyone interested in travelling high into the beautiful Alps of Switzerland.