In my mind’s eye, I had imagined jumping off the train and seeing the Matterhorn towering over the chalet-lined streets. In reality, the chalet-lined streets stared back at us, but the fog was too thick and there was no Matterhorn. It gave Zermatt a haunted quality as we headed for tourist information. Once inside, we asked if it was worth going up on the cable cars—still hoping that it would be. The man chuckled and pointed to a TV screen that projected the view from an “Alps-cam.” It was a solid grey screen with water droplets on it. Ugh!
As we salivated over the glossy pamphlets of Alpine views, my dreams of zipping up the mountains were looking grim. The Matterhorn Glacier Palace, claiming to be “world’s highest glacier palace, approximately 15 meters under the surface of the glacier” was slipping through our fingers. Posters of the Matterhorn observation decks, with their “You can’t get any higher!” slogan and promise of seeing the Swiss, Italian, and French Alps mocked us endlessly. Screaming in agony, we fled the tourist information office and tore through the streets crying, “Why? WHY?”
Okay, so we walked out of the office quietly and went to grab a bite to eat. Unable to admit defeat, we resigned ourselves to strolling around Zermatt—maybe it would clear up? The town was totally cute, even though it is a bit touristy. Chalets prevailed and Zermatt was steeped in charm. Our lunch turned into coffee, which turned into dessert, and still there was no sign of the weather breaking. We bought an umbrella—our only souvenir—and set out to document our day. We took pictures where the Matterhorn should have been, framed neatly by adjacent chalets. I wonder what passersby thought of me posing with a big tourist grin and a solid grey backdrop behind me. The grey just made us laugh. I figured I could always Photoshop that big hunk of rock in.
On our way back to the train, we took a picture next to the marmot statue and rubbed a shiny furry head, which had us in stitches. I mean, who needs a Matterhorn when you can have a marmot statue? Apparently, when the weather is accommodating (ahem), and one is able to hike, this furry little friend is plentiful. We laughed about marmot sightings—milking all our marmot material—and rubbed the worn statue for warmth, giggles, and maybe even luck.
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