Latitude: 46.2° north
Weather: -7°C, ☃️ ☀️ Sunrise: 07:50 Sunset: 17:16
For more than four weeks, there’s been snow. From the thick snow of the far north to the cleared pavements and snowy grass of the Alpine cities – we’ve been among it the whole way. Four weeks of proper winter, white views, snow, ice – the longest, deepest, most intense period of winter I’ve enjoyed since my year in Moscow way back in 1994.
We knew we would have to leave the snow behind at some stage. This trip is all about the journey south and the changes along the way. A gentler, milder winter is calling us. But oh, it’s a wrench to leave behind not just the snow, but also the sense of stillness, rest and light that comes along with it.
If we had to leave our winter wonderland behind, we wanted to go out with one final blaze of winter glory. And so, the Bernina Express route from Switzerland to Italy beckoned. One of the great railway trips of Switzerland (and indeed the world) – a UNESCO world heritage, narrow-gauge route through the very heart of the Alps. 148 kilometres, 196 bridges, 55 tunnels, with a highest point of 2,253m and some properly astonishing feats of engineering – all experienced in an iconic little red train.
There are a couple of ways to do the Bernina route. A few times a day, the ‘official’ train heads off from either Chur or St Moritz, offering a few panoramic cars with wraparound windows and dining options. Lovely, expensive, booked up months ahead. These trains also have some normal carriages, but the timings didn’t work for us.
The other option is to use the regional trains which travel the same route. Same company, same tracks, same incredible views. With an Interrail ticket, completely free. Bring a picnic and make the most of a quieter train with windows that open for the all-important photos, and the chance to feel the Alpine air on your face.
We set off just after 6am (in the rain! First rain of the trip – a shock), found a handy supermarket and good coffee at St Gallen station, and discovered our first train ready and waiting early, giving us time to settle in. The first hour passed gently and we were changing trains in Landquart to head to St Moritz just as the day was getting fully light.
The trip from Landquart to St Moritz was an absolute joy. If this had been the main focus of the day, we’d have been delighted. The clouds lifted and we were left with a beautiful sunny day on fresh powder snow. Incredible mountain views, deep valleys, white trees. We had the carriage to ourselves, worked out that the window opened, and spent a wonderful couple of hours soaking up truly beautiful mountain scenery. At this point, I decided that the Bernina couldn’t really be any better than this.
Getting off the train in St Moritz, the change in temperature was instant. A proper bite, that different taste that you breathe in once you get a few degrees or more below zero. The grand city up above the train line, frozen lake below. We grabbed refreshments from the cafe and got ready for our train to arrive. We’d been warned that the regional train route had got busy over the last year as people have begun to realise that it’s a great alternative option to the main trains. We couldn’t get the website to work to reserve a seat, so – with fingers firmly crossed – we jumped on the second it arrived.
Panic. Every single seat we walked past was flagged as reserved. Hearts sinking, we walked through the train as I tried to work out a plan B. It had all been going so well. Thankfully, the other person who had jumped on at the same time as us was friendly, approachable – and immediately dismissed the reservations as ‘nothing to worry about, just take any seat’. Despite this feeling deeply uncomfortable to a very rule-abiding Brit, we picked seats in the front carriage and held our breath. 10 minutes later, the train pulled away with 4 of us in our compartment and the carriage behind completely empty. Phew.
The two hours that unfolded were such an incredible joy, I’m going to run out of superlatives to describe them. I could tell you how the train slowly grinded its way up into the mountains, so steeply that we could almost feel the bite of the wheels on the tracks. Maybe I could paint a picture of the small tracks through tightly packed forests, skiers criss-crossing the route on cross-country trails. I could describe how the snow-laden trees were so close, I could have reached out and touched them. I’d love to show you the frozen waterfalls clinging to rock faces and, in one place, cascading in a huge fall of ice over the top of the gallieried track ahead. There were switchbacks and turns, a thrilling 180° in many cases, where you could look back and see the rest of the train following behind around the snowy bend. At the top of the route, a huge, snowy frozen lake and plateau – a genuine winter wilderness, the vastness of the white view unfathomable. We saw cable cars and conveyor belt lifts, cross country skiers and kite boarders. Deer and birds. Huge, stomach-clenching vertical drops down to a valley floor way below. Frozen rivers and lakes. Glaciers and soaring peaks. Sunlight on rocky peaks and small clouds forming over the slopes. And all soaked up at a gentle speed and so close up, we were always in the landscape and never distanced from it.
I could describe all of that. But it’s so hard to find the words to capture how mind-blowingly beautiful it was. So instead I’ll just say that I grinned from ear to ear for the entire trip, like a total loon, dashing from side to side of the carriage to get the next view, window open, sun on my face (and occasionally a face full of snowy spray too). I’ve taken a hundred photos and they won’t come close to capturing the sheer magical joy of this train ride.
Eventually, heading down from the snowy heights into sunny Italy, we circled around the insane, unreal spiral of the Brusis viaduct, and, by the time we’d completed the loops, the snow was gone. We’ll see it again on distant peaks, but I don’t expect to see it again on the ground. I’ll admit to shedding a quiet tear. But, but, but. What a way to say goodbye and what a truly remarkable route the Bernina Express takes. However incredible you think a train ride could be, double it and then double it again. And then go and do it. As we head now into the sunshine and probably rain of a milder Italian winter, I’m holding those memories close and will always cherish this final day in winter heaven.
