A Dream Comes True

Lauterbrunnen Valley in July 1956

July 1956. A gaggle of callow teenagers from the grimy English midlands, abroad for the very first time on a school trip, is suddenly confronted with the awe-inspiring grandeur of the Swiss Alps in the Bernese Oberland. Reactions vary, but a life-long impression was made on at least two of these kids: my friend Margaret and me. We were fifteen. On our very last day of that school holiday, as we set out on our journey home, she had tears pouring down her face at the realisation that “I’ll never see anything as beautiful as this ever again!”

I was fortunate enough to return to live in Switzerland a couple of decades after that first visit, but although Margaret had many foreign holidays later (and even lived in Italy for a few months), she never managed to get back to the magical village of Lauterbrunnen near Interlaken, where she had been so overwhelmed. At various times over the years we made vague plans for her to come and visit, but it all came to naught. However, in early 2020 it looked promising and we made more definite plans – all dashed by the advent of Covid19. No travelling that year, nor in 2021.

In 2022, once again it seemed we had the green light. Margaret had a friend who was planning to drive from England to northern Italy, and as my home in Bad Ragaz lay on the Autobahn to the San Bernardino pass/tunnel, she had the offer of a door-to-door taxi service.

Alas, her friend fell ill just before they were due to leave so once again her trip was postponed, and last summer, in 2023, I was in the midst of moving house and my apartment was filled with boxes. No room for guests. My bout with cancer last autumn also raised some doubts about whether I would be able to host Margaret and her friend in 2024. Luckily – thank the Lord! – this time it all worked out according to plan. They were able to fly to Zurich, hire a car and stay with me here in Frauenfeld for a full fortnight. The only negative was the weather: yes, we did have some sunshine and a few outings, but May was also one of the wettest on record. Still, we weren’t bored and there was plenty of conversation, lots of reminiscing and looking at old photos, and the miracle of a bright sunny day for our long awaited trip to Lauterbrunnen on Sunday, 26 May. My Darling Daughter (DD) and Dear Son-in-Law (DSIL) volunteered to chauffeur us, as the journey takes a good two-and-a-half to three hours each way, and to share our enjoyment. We were not disappointed.

What stood out in our minds about that holiday 68 years ago?

We  travelled from Interlaken to Lauterbrunnen on a rattly little train with uncomfortable wooden slatted seats and stayed at the quaint Pension Weinhalle on the main street of the village. The boys were accommodated in a kind of youth hostel further down the hill. We drank pop and ate ice cream on the covered terrace of a neighbouring café. There was an enormous waterfall right behind the house we stayed at, and a stream of icy cold mountain water running the length of the valley. We visited a number of other places including the Jungfraujoch and the Aletsch glacier, rode on chair lifts, cooled our feet in the fresh cold water of the mountain lake of Oeschinensee, and visited the trout nurseries at the Blausee. Practically everything else was a blur.

What did we find in Lauterbrunnen?

The scenery was virtually still the same as we remembered, especially the waterfall (Staubbach falls) and the view of the Jungfrau at the far end of the valley. There were far fewer tourists in 1956 so the place was much less crowded, and everything was much cheaper, although the general impression of the village was familiar. The carpark attendant – who told us he was 70 – remembered the Pension Weinhalle but said it no longer existed. We were crestfallen, till he added, “It’s now called Chalet Rosa.” We wandered along the main street trying to link what we were now seeing with what memories we still had: that little church must have been there, but neither of us had any recollection of it.

To our surprise, on comparing my 1956 photos later with my 2024 pics, I had an almost identical photo labelled “view from our bedroom window”.

Church in Lauterbrunnen, July 1956 “View from our bedroom window”

Was this the café where we had enjoyed our pop and ice cream? Very likely. And here’s the Chalet Rosa, built in 1658, and we concluded that our bedroom had been the one on the first floor just to the left of the front door. What emotions came flooding back!

Chalet Rosa, formerly Pension Weinhalle

This was our bedroom window in July 1956. The date 1658 is engraved under the eaves.

After lunch we continued our amble down to the station, where DSIL pointed out a little green train standing on a side track. Of course we had to investigate, and yes indeed! On peering through the window, there were the slatted wooden seats that had imprinted not only our memories but also our tender bottoms – though these seats were now upholstered. DSIL googled the number of this train, and found it had been put into service in 1954, so it might even have been the very same one we had travelled on!

We rounded off our trip to central Switzerland with a quick stop for ice cream and a short stroll through Lucerne, which was the last place we had visited in 1956 when we took a paddle steamer trip on the lake.

By this time, Margaret was exhausted both physically and emotionally, and the rest of us were also pretty tired so it was time to head back home, very grateful for the family taxi service! It was a day to remember, and we now have some lovely coloured photos to add to the blurry black-and-white images taken almost 70 years ago with my little Brownie 127. Maybe one day we’ll also get to Kandersteg and Oeschinensee, to paddle and skim flat stones across the surface of the lake. Meanwhile, we have proved that sometimes you really can go back and some things truly do remain as you remember them.