Switzerland,
by altitude.

Mireille had reserved Glacier Express seats six months ahead, in the third carriage on the right because it has the better light for the Oberalp Pass section. Small thing; right thing. Lauterbrunnen for three nights from a chalet whose owner walked us up to the Schilthorn at five-thirty AM to see Eiger before the cloud rolled in.

We had been to Switzerland twice before, both times to Interlaken. Mireille pushed us to the Engadine instead and we cannot understand why we waited so long. Pontresina was the trip. Wildflowers, hikes ended by a four o'clock thunderstorm every afternoon, a hotel manager who knew which trails would dry by next morning.

Not skiers; Tibro insisted that did not matter. They had us at the Matterhorn at sunrise on day one (a private taxi to Gornergrat that the studio had arranged because the public train was sold out). The rest of the week was strudel, long walks, two evening drives. We came back rested in a way we have never been rested by a holiday.