We didn't bring a small guide book on the trip. We brought the ginormous Lonely Planet's Europe on a Shoestring. We wouldn't be carrying the extra three pounds if we didn't trust it. So, when the book recommended
hostel named Chalet Martin nestled in the quiet city of Gryon (and mentioned a chocolate tasting) we booked ourselves a reservation from Prague.
Until we reached the final big train station, no one we
spoke with had even heard of the town, but as we boarded the “cogwheel train”
(which looked very much like a tram to me) and started to ascend the mountain
it became certain we were in for a treat. After the giant city buildings of
Geneva I was extremely pleasantly surprised to find the mountain speckled with
adorable traditional Swiss chalets. With it's width and the path's lack of shoulder, the train seemed to
float up the mountainside, inches from tremendous drop offs and rushing
streams.
We followed some convenient signs a short distance uphill from the trainstop and found ourselves in a hostel like none we’ve visited before. We had to wait a bit to be recognized and squeeze behind a refridgerator to make it to receptions (they’d moved it to clean the kitchen floor), but the down to earth, family owned nature of Chalet Martin set it apart in the best possible way. After spending a moment taking in the view from our dorm’s balcony over some peanut butter Nutella sandwiches, we set off on a 5 hour hike.
The majority of the walk was well marked with yellow signs. We enjoyed comfortable stretches along roads, steeper stretches along uneven ground, and views of rivers, hill sides, demure family farms, and the kind of mountain sights that dislodge one’s jaw. Eventually we wandered into some pastures (the cow pies and incessant jingle of cow bells gave it away). We bravely trod between dozens of potentially malicious bovines with all the confidence of two girls from WI finally realizing that they’ve never been around cows without a stall divider or fence to separate them. The second two thirds of the hike brought several wrong turns, retraced paths, and muddy streams. So we were wonderfully happy to be back home when we reached the hostel again.
Our next task was to translate our German sauce packet to cook dinner. After finding the name of an ingredient we couldn’t decipher, Merlin (yea, like the wizard) one of the hostel’s coowners, swooped in and provided us some milk to sub for the “whipping cream” called for. The rest of the evening was spent outdoors getting to know various other guests and employees. We also fit in a couple games of Othello and a few hours watching a camp fire.
Like so many others we spoke with, we found ourselves tempted to stay another night…or month. This hostel is not just a bed to sleep in, hot shower, and free bathroom. It’s a community. The cozy movie room, game room, huge book swap shelf, and massive spice rack set it apart as a place to slow down and feel at home. The hostel also won my heart with their thorough garbage/recycling system, efficient refrigerator baskets, recyclable grocery bags, and informational notes posted on every wall or doorway. The close group of coworkers and semi-permanent residents foster a social atmosphere that is hard to beat. Fortunately, trekking down the hill back to town was made far easier by the mounting excitement of an even more exciting portion of the trip; Nancy, France! :D
We followed some convenient signs a short distance uphill from the trainstop and found ourselves in a hostel like none we’ve visited before. We had to wait a bit to be recognized and squeeze behind a refridgerator to make it to receptions (they’d moved it to clean the kitchen floor), but the down to earth, family owned nature of Chalet Martin set it apart in the best possible way. After spending a moment taking in the view from our dorm’s balcony over some peanut butter Nutella sandwiches, we set off on a 5 hour hike.
The majority of the walk was well marked with yellow signs. We enjoyed comfortable stretches along roads, steeper stretches along uneven ground, and views of rivers, hill sides, demure family farms, and the kind of mountain sights that dislodge one’s jaw. Eventually we wandered into some pastures (the cow pies and incessant jingle of cow bells gave it away). We bravely trod between dozens of potentially malicious bovines with all the confidence of two girls from WI finally realizing that they’ve never been around cows without a stall divider or fence to separate them. The second two thirds of the hike brought several wrong turns, retraced paths, and muddy streams. So we were wonderfully happy to be back home when we reached the hostel again.
Our next task was to translate our German sauce packet to cook dinner. After finding the name of an ingredient we couldn’t decipher, Merlin (yea, like the wizard) one of the hostel’s coowners, swooped in and provided us some milk to sub for the “whipping cream” called for. The rest of the evening was spent outdoors getting to know various other guests and employees. We also fit in a couple games of Othello and a few hours watching a camp fire.
Like so many others we spoke with, we found ourselves tempted to stay another night…or month. This hostel is not just a bed to sleep in, hot shower, and free bathroom. It’s a community. The cozy movie room, game room, huge book swap shelf, and massive spice rack set it apart as a place to slow down and feel at home. The hostel also won my heart with their thorough garbage/recycling system, efficient refrigerator baskets, recyclable grocery bags, and informational notes posted on every wall or doorway. The close group of coworkers and semi-permanent residents foster a social atmosphere that is hard to beat. Fortunately, trekking down the hill back to town was made far easier by the mounting excitement of an even more exciting portion of the trip; Nancy, France! :D
Well said!
ReplyDelete