Bernina Express
Episode Eight: St. Moritz
Shariq Ali
Valueversity
The most eagerly awaited day of our journey had finally arrived. Today, we were setting off on our journey aboard the Bernina Express.
We woke up very early. The hotel dining hall did not open until seven, and by seven we were supposed to be at the designated meeting point.
We had a quick breakfast in our room—croissants, tea, and dried fruit—got ready, and took the taxi we had booked in advance to the meeting point in central Milan.
The place was already buzzing with activity. Tourists of every kind, from different parts of the world, had gathered there.
After a while, the crowd was divided between two luxury coaches, and we met our guide, Monica.
Monica must have been around sixty, but she was full of energy and exceptionally warm and friendly.
During the introductions, she asked us:
“Where have you come from?”
“London.”
Her face immediately lit up.
“My daughter works in London too. She went there and settled in so happily that now she simply refuses to come back to Italy!”
With a smile, she had already broken down the barrier between strangers.
Our journey began in the comfortable coach, and Milan slowly slipped away behind us. Our destination was the enchanting Swiss mountain town of St. Moritz, where we were to board the Bernina Express.
As the city receded, the landscape began to change. The greenery grew deeper, lakes started appearing alongside the road, and in the distance the gentle outlines of the Alps began to emerge—as though nature itself were gradually preparing us for the Swiss Alps.
Then came the border between Italy and Switzerland.
You may imagine a border crossing as something rather serious and formal. Here, however, it turned out to be surprisingly simple. The coach stopped for a few moments. The border officials had a brief conversation with the driver and Monica. No questions were asked of us, no one bothered to inspect our passports, and just like that, we had crossed from Italy into Switzerland.
Once inside Switzerland, the journey became even more beautiful. Lakes large and small, green slopes, picturesque villages, and mountains rising ever higher surrounded us. Before long, our coach reached St. Moritz.
As we stepped off the coach, Monica pointed towards a restaurant decorated with brightly coloured flags and said:
“You have ninety minutes. Explore the town, but make sure you return here exactly on time. This place is difficult to forget!”
The railway station stood just opposite, from where the Bernina Express would depart.
For now, however, we had ninety minutes of St. Moritz ahead of us.
St. Moritz is a small but world-famous mountain town in the Engadin Valley of southeastern Switzerland. Situated at an altitude of around 1,800 metres above sea level, its fame rests on more than its spectacular natural beauty. It is also regarded as the birthplace of modern Alpine winter tourism.
It was here, in 1864, that organised winter tourism began, and the town later went on to host the Winter Olympics twice.
We fell in love with St. Moritz at first sight. Its natural beauty was magnificent and unapologetically bold.
Monica walked with us for a short distance, saying, “I’ll take you to the most beautiful spot here. After that, you can explore the rest of the town yourselves.”
She led us to a spacious wooden viewing platform overlooking the town and the lake, where the panorama before us looked like something painted by an artist.
The blue waters of Lake St. Moritz stretched out before us, dotted with boats large and small. Green meadows and flowers lined its shores, while at the far end of the lake, mountains rose towards the sky in remarkable symmetry and proportion.
We were fortunate with the weather too. It was an exceptionally beautiful day. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, and the lake shimmered in the light.
Mona and I stood silently for a while, simply taking in the view. Then, of course, a few photographs were taken.
There are moments during a journey when words seem inadequate. Some scenes can only be witnessed and remembered.
What lay before us was one of those scenes.
When we turned around, another face of St. Moritz revealed itself.
Magnificent hotels and elegant buildings stood along the mountain slopes, facing the lake.
Among them was the famous Badrutt’s Palace Hotel, an icon of St. Moritz since 1896. Over the years, some of the world’s wealthiest and most famous personalities have stayed there.
Pointing towards the hotel, Monica mentioned Alfred Hitchcock.
There is an entire story behind his connection with this place. Hitchcock first came here in 1924. Two years later, he spent his honeymoon at the hotel with his wife, Alma, and continued returning throughout his life. His favourite room was 501, now known as the Hitchcock Suite, whose balcony overlooks Lake St. Moritz.
According to Monica, a room at this hotel costs around three thousand pounds—or approximately nine hundred thousand Pakistani rupees—per night, and the hotel does not accept bookings of fewer than seven nights.
Our time, however, was limited, and the whole of St. Moritz lay before us.
The first thing we noticed was its extraordinary cleanliness and orderliness. Modern and traditional buildings of stone and timber, beautifully decorated façades, fresh flowers adorning the windows, and streets rising and falling with the contours of the mountain slopes—all reflected a distinctive Alpine character.
As we walked on, we reached the centre of town.
Here, alongside nature, was an entirely different world of wealth and luxury. Boutiques belonging to some of the world’s most prestigious and expensive brands, elegantly arranged window displays, and tourists strolling about at an unhurried pace.
St. Moritz truly is a fascinating blend. On one side are beautiful mountains, a blue lake, and the splendour of nature; on the other, international glamour, sophisticated living, fashion, and luxury.
For a while, we simply wandered through its streets and markets without the help of Google Maps.
Eventually, we sat outside a restaurant and treated ourselves to ice cream and Swiss cookies. From the steps outside the restaurant, the lively scene of a busy mountain resort stretched into the distance.
We sat quietly, eating our ice cream and watching it all.
Suddenly, the bells of a nearby church began to ring.
In the stillness of this mountain town, surrounded by peaks, the sound of those bells created a strangely enchanting atmosphere—as though their echoes were travelling far into the valley before returning to us.
The sights and sounds seemed to merge into one.
The mountains before us, the blue sky, the town bathed in sunlight, the ice cream melting in our hands, and the church bells resonating through the air.
Our time was short. We saw less of St. Moritz than we felt.
I have seen many beautiful cities around the world, but the beauty of St. Moritz felt distinctly different. Here, human refinement and the beauty and grandeur of nature do not compete with one another. Instead, they complement each other. They seem almost like companions.
Our ninety minutes were nearly over.
The Bernina Express, too, was another expression of Western beauty.
And the heartless thing was certainly not going to change its departure time just to wait for us.
Reluctantly, we paid the bill, rose from the restaurant steps, and began walking back towards the designated meeting point.
Bidding farewell to St. Moritz, we carried with us the excitement of an encounter with one of the world’s most famous express trains…
To be continued…