Field Notes: Bergün

A slow week in Bergün to celebrate the end of winter.

We rented an old house in the mountains for the last week of winter. Sunday night, we sit at the battered kitchen table. A fire is burning in the small oven, and a batch of tomato sauce is slowly cooking in a heavy pot on the stove. I nibble on some olives as we share a glass of wine. We have our heads in our books. In between pages: calm sighs of relaxation.

***

As I stumble into the bathroom across the creaky floorboard and wonky doorsteps in the morning, I am greeted by a thick layer of snow on the skylight. Outside our bedroom window, large flakes tumble from the sky. The village on the hill is hardly visible; the mountain peaks have vanished in the clouds. I open the window, return to bed, and hide under the soft white sheets. Outside, I hear a group of excited kids pass by and, later, the beeping of the snow plough. I stay in bed for a while longer before I venture downstairs to make coffee.

***

I have the whole compartment to myself as the train makes its way up the mountain through snowed-in landscapes. The window is wide open, the skies are blue, and the sun is warm on my face. At Hospizio Bernina, I embark with a few others to wait for the next train back to Pontresina. The tracks and the platform are the only places freed from the snow. Some of us buy beers or snacks at the station restaurant, but most stand, wait, look. It’s so calm here; the only sound you hear is the snow melting and – in regular intervals – a bell and a loudspeaker announcing the next arrival of another train.

***

Shortly before we leave Bergün on a warm and sunny day, I believe I see two swallows flying circles around the colourful tower in the centre of the village.