Snowbound in Zermatt

Craig Townsend peered out the front window of the cozy A-frame inn in the hills outside Zermatt, Switzerland. "Well, that settles it. The drifts are so high I can barely see out the window, there's no way we're getting to town today."

He and his wife Stephanie had come for a holiday of skiing and relaxation. Both had traveled in Europe before, but neither had been to Switzerland. They had just arrived the day prior from Zurich, stepping off the train into a town that seemed almost too iconic to be real. Zermatt was small even by Swiss standards, at the end of a valley surrounded on three sides by some of the highest summits in the Alps, including the iconic Matterhorn, looming like a giant pyramid over the village and visible from many points in town. There were only a handful of main roads. The main street was lined with restaurants, clothing boutiques, watchmakers, chocolatiers, souvenir shops, and places to buy or rent ski equipment. Small icicles hung from the storefront eaves, glistening in the cold afternoon sun. The snow was soft, powdery, perfect. The center of town had a surreal quietness to it, partly because the snow cover dampened ambient noise, but also because Zermatt was essentially car-free. Those arriving by car parked at a large garage about 5 km out of town, and took an electric tram into town. The Townsends had arrived as the majority of people did, by train. The only transportation in the town was electric taxis, bicycles, and horse drawn carriages. This was by design, as standard internal combustion engines would create pollution that would obscure the view of the surrounding peaks. The inn where they were staying had its own shuttle, with a driver dutifully waiting outside the train station holding a small sign with their names written on it. The drive to the chalet was only about 20 minutes or so, and the driver regaled the Townsends with stories of Zermatt's history, from its origins as a holding of the Bishop of Sion, to it's forced annexation to France during Napoleon's reign, to its evolution into one of the great Alpine destinations in Europe. The couple soon found themselves in the driveway of the chalet that would be their home for the next week. The light snow that had greeted them on their arrival, however, intensified and lingered into the night, and by the following morning the landscape was buried in white.

Stephanie came to the window where her husband stood, surveying the situation. "Yep, we're snowed in for sure," she concurred. "No matter, we've only just arrived, they'll have the road passable I'm sure by tomorrow. Let's enjoy ourselves here today, it's so beautiful."

Craig turned and gave his wife a small hug. Steph could make the best of any situation, it was one of her many qualities that endeared her to him so much. The soft chiming of the clock on the stone mantel announced the 1 PM hour. Just a few moments later, they heard the friendly, German-accented voice of Mr. Lehmann, the innkeeper.

"Quite the storm, isn't it?"

"Certainly is," replied Craig, turning to face his host. "Gives us a good excuse to enjoy your beautiful home, Mr. Lehmann."

"Bitte, please, call me Hans. You are family while you are in my home, we should be on a first-name basis. Now, neither of you worry, this house has been through worse weather than this, Gabriel will have the road plowed by tomorrow. Right now, I'm sure you're hungry, perhaps you would like to share a fondue with me, ja?"

"That would be lovely, Mr Leh-- Hans," Stephanie replied.

"Wunderbar! Now you just relax, I'll have everything ready in two shakes of a lamb's tail." With a smile and a slight bowing nod, Mr. Lehmann turned toward the kitchen.

Craig and Stephanie walked over to the hearth, it's stone facade slightly soot stained, and sat in the pair of rocking chairs at the fireside. The gentle crackling of the flames and the warmth made Craig a little drowsy despite it being midday. Mr. Lehmann reappeared a few minutes later carrying two mugs of cocoa, which the Townsends happily accepted.

Craig looked deeply into his wife's eyes. She, however, seemed preoccupied. "You OK?" he asked.

Stephanie's eyes focused on her husband. "Yeah, I'm good. So much more than good, in fact. We've just been through so much this past year, we're so blessed to have come through it all."

Craig nodded knowingly. "It would have been enough if I had just been laid off, but that was just the start, wasn't it? Your mom passing, the water damage to the house, and then, your..." he trailed off, looking uncertainly at Stephanie.

"It's OK, you can say the word dear, my miscarriage," Stephanie said. Her voice was steady but a single tear escaped her eye and tracked down her cheek. "They say the strongest steel is forged by the fires of hell. If that's so, you and I should be damned near indestructible." She wiped the tear from her cheek and her face briefly hardened. Eventually the gleam returned to her hazel eyes as she held her mug up. "Cheers. As we start the New Year, let's get down on our knees to thank God we're on our feet."

"Cheers," echoed Craig. God, but I do love you so, he thought to himself.

Mr. Lehmann returned to the sitting room. "All is ready, please, come, eat." The couple followed their host into the kitchen. A table was set with a pot in the center, full of molten Gruyere and Emmenthal cheese, into which a healthy dose of white wine had been added. Craig and Stephanie inhaled deeply, taking in the aromas of cheese, garlic and nutmeg emanating from the pot. Three place settings, each with a long, two tined dipping fork were set. Completing the presentation were bowls of sourdough, rye and pumpernickel bread, apples, pears, cauliflower, and potatoes for dipping.

The innkeeper reached into the refrigerator and removed a bottle of wine that had been chilling for the occasion. "The French speakers in the next canton over, they will tell you that Chenin Blanc is best with cheese fondue, but here, we serve Riesling," his bespectacled water-blue eyes scrunched in a grin. A second, smaller glass was filled from another bottle. "Kirschwasser, cherry brandy. Drink this after the meal, it helps the digestion." The Townsends each speared a cube of bread and swirled it in the molten cheese. "Take care," Mr. Lehmann admonished wryly, "according to tradition, if you lose your bread in the cheese pot, you must clean all the dishes."

The cheese was pure heaven, the earthy nuttiness of the Gruyere combining perfectly with the creamy smoothness of the Emmenthaler. Just as pleasant was the innkeeper's company, who seemed to be well versed in many subjects, and over the next hour, the couple found themselves discussing the merits of different varieties of Riesling wine, Mr. Lehmann's younger years as a mountaineer, critiques of French Impressionist art, and the state of the Swiss national hockey team ("pitiful" in Mr. Lehmann's opinion). At last, the bottom of the pot was reached, with it's golden toasted rind of baked cheese. "We call this bit la religieuse, the nun. Nobody's quite sure why, but it is delicious." The Townsends couldn't help but agree.

"Now," said Mr. Lehmann, "I'll clear the table and we'll have some nice Swiss chocolate for dessert. Don't worry about the dishes, I'll get to those later, or perhaps if we're lucky the kobold will take care of them for us.

"The kobold?" said the Townsends in unison.

"Oh ja," smiled Mr. Lehmann. "the house fairy. The Norse have their tomtes, the Scots their Brownies, the English their house elves, here we have the kobold. They mainly choose to stay hidden, though it is said they can reveal themselves if they so choose. Little people, though remarkably strong for their size. It is said they live in the pantry or wine cellar, and they come out mainly at night and, if you are in good favor with them, they will complete any unfinished chores around the house. Offend them, and you awaken to spilled milk if you're lucky, much worse if you're not. They require a meal be set for them once a week and holidays. A small price to pay to keep the peace." The Townsends examined the old man's face but could not tell if they were being teased or not.

Mr. Lehmann saw the quizzical looks on his guests' faces. "You are skeptical I see. But there are so many such stories in our history here. Are you familiar, for example, with the story of how the edelweiss came to be?"

The couple shook their heads. "But we'd love to hear the story," said Stephanie.

The innkeeper returned to the table with several pieces of dark chocolate and a bowl of strawberries. "Enjoy these while I tell you the story of the beautiful edelweiss flower. The legend goes that a beautiful fairy known as the Snow Queen lived on one of the highest peaks in the Alps. Her beauty was legendary, and many of the local shepherd boys climbed to her mountain home to admire her. Any man would have given anything, including his life, to marry her. But, Fate had decreed that no mortal could ever marry her. Such was her beauty though that many men tried to woo her nonetheless. Each man came to the great ice palace to see the Snow Queen on her crystal throne, but the moment they declared their love for her and proposed marriage, hundreds of goblins would appear, grab him, and throw him over the cliff's edge into the abyss below. The Snow Queen had a heart of ice, and was unmoved by any of this as she was incapable of emotions. This continued until one day, word of the Snow Queen came to a young chamois hunter, who decided to try his luck. For days on end he traveled, scaling mountains and defying the bitter cold. At long last, he saw the glimmering spires of the Ice Palace, and entered in.

The young man had heard the stories of the others being dragged to their death after proposing marriage to the fairy queen. Unlike the others that preceded him, though, he didn't utter a single word. He just knelt in admiration at her feet for hours on end, silent. To her surprise, the Snow Queen found this a touching act, and in fact found herself quite fond of this man. The goblins were alarmed that the Snow Queen might actually take this suitor to be her husband, which would bring the full fury of the Fates upon them all. So that night, they placed a dream in his head, a dream of the Snow Queen asking for to marry the man. In his sleep, the man whispered, "I do love you, and I will marry you." And in that instant, the goblins grabbed and bound him, and threw him from the cliffs as they had with the others. Upon learning the next morning what the goblins had done, her icy heart melted and she became human. With that, all the emotions that come with being human flooded her, and she cried for the loss of the young man, the first tears she had ever shed. The Queen's tears fell onto the stone, where it turned into a silvery star, which was the first edelweiss flower. And that is why they are found only on the highest cliffs and mountains in the Alps. And it is why it stands as a symbol of devotion and deep love to this day."

Craig and Stephanie applauded and the innkeper bowed dramatically in response. Stephanie glimpsed out the window and noticed the snow had stopped. "Ah, well then, I'll have Gabriel get the road cleared first thing in the morning. I'm sure you have plenty of adventures planned."

The couple turned to each other, then Craig said, "Yes, but something tells me our time here at the chalet could be just as adventurous." And before he left the kitchen, Craig caught a glimpse into the butler's pantry behind them, where all the dishes they had used for their fondue meal sat, neatly stacked and cleaned.