We arrived at midday, hired snowshoes for our friend Richard, and went in search of snowshoe trails. No fog here, deep in the valley - just towering, gleaming mountains, trees heavy with snow. The trails above Sulwald looked promising, so we drove up the narrow, twisting road to the tiny village of Isenfluh, where we joined a queue of tobogganers and hikers awaiting the little cable car to take us up to Sulwald. At 1533m, Sulwald perches on the mountainside above the valley, with glorious views across to the Eiger and Jungfrau, and the vast ski slopes below. We left Rose at the cafe with a hot apple punch, and set off on our hike, climbing steeply through the forest, following a snow trail forged by skis and snowshoes. It was Richard's first snowshoeing experience, and like us, he was exhilarated by the freedom these cumbersome looking appendages provide, in deep snow as well as on slippery close-packed icy trails. On the return journey we went cross-country, through knee-deep virgin snow, running down steep hillsides, tumbling, rolling and laughing to the cafe, and bowls of thick, hot, barley soup.Monday was cold and grey, definitely more snowshoeing weather than skiing. This time we took the cable car up to Gimmelwald and walked up to pretty Mürren, and from there another breathtaking (literally) vertical haul up to the skifields, and a wonderful lunch of goulash soup and alper macaroni. Eventually we found our way to Gimmeln, and from there took the off-piste trail back down to Gimmelwald, another adventure that ended with us sliding, hilarious human snowballs, down steep hillsides.
Tuesday was a perfect skiing day, bright sunshine, fresh snow. So we took the train up to Wengen, picked up our rental skis, and clambered into the large, crowded cable car for the trip up to Männlichen. The first day of the season is always a scary one for us later-in-life skiers; hence our procrastination. But this one was great, well-groomed pistes, not too many people - and of course, those glorious mountains! We ended the day, exhilarated and exhausted, with the long, lovely run down to Wengen, a vast rösti dinner at the Hotel Oberland in Lauterbrunnen, and then a quiet stroll to the Staubbach falls at the southern end of the village. Magically lit, the falls drop from the sheer cliff-face around 300m above the valley. On these frozen nights, the falls appear frozen too, until suddenly an avalanche of water roars out of the rock, the spray forming tiny icicles in the light.
Our last day in Lauterbrunnen was another monochrome one, so we took our friends to lunch in pretty Thun, and then on a tour of the Thunersee and back through Interlaken, stopping for a late afternoon walk in the forest.
