Between the apartment in NYC and efforts to help with the upcoming Congress in Japan, the wedding in western Connecticut, the napping dog or the jumping dog, between all these and more, much, much more, there is, of course, Switzerland.
After the four times a year trips to Asia, which involve 13-15 hours in the air to Narita, the six or so hours to Zurich seemed like a bus ride to Albany. Bloody Mary, pasta, and Neighbors II, and I was out. O-U-T, out.
We got to Braunwald earlier than anticipated. It was crowded with kids on school break, dozens of them, all tiny and noisy and adorable, crying and shouting and singing, and at our hotel, a “family hotel,” the kids ran the joint: From strollers parked in the corridor to running up and down the dining room, to enjoying the petting zoo of llama and goats.
The next morning we met up with a friend and an associate and scouted. Mid-day it was a long, wonderful train ride to Vals–back, again–to the Therme, designed by Peter Zumthor, to a room designed by Tadeo Ando.