From The Latest Issue: Where The Matterhorn Beckons

On a sunny May morning, we set off from Geneva’s bustling main station. Two and a half hours later, our train pulled into the quaint station at Visp. This was the junction where every traveller bound for Zermatt had to change trains, and the excitement on the platform was palpable. Tourists from across the world and, like us, from India, waited eagerly for the distinctive red-and-white Matterhorn Gotthard Bahn. Exactly 12 minutes later, it arrived.

As the train pulled out of Visp, the scenery changed almost instantly. We left behind the wide open horizon of lakes and tidy towns and entered a quieter world where the milky-green Vispa River accompanied us for much of the journey. Green pastures gave way to wooden chalets, while snow-capped peaks appeared briefly before disappearing behind forested hills. The higher we climbed, the narrower the valley became, until there seemed to be room only for the railway line and the dark green mountains rising on either side.

The one-hour journey was a delight in itself. The train stopped at tiny stations such as Stalden-Saas, some only "on request." We passed the charming hamlet of St Niklaus, its onion-domed church standing out against the mountains, before reaching Täsch, where all vehicles are left behind. Zermatt, after all, is proudly car-free.

Fifteen minutes later we rolled into one of Europe's most coveted mountain destinations. Stepping out of the station, we found ourselves directly on Bahnhofstrasse, Zermatt's lively main street. Opposite stood the Gornergrat Bahn terminal, where we would begin the next day's excursion into the mountains. We had already booked our tickets from Kolkata, so there was nothing to do except soak in the atmosphere. Though we had seen countless photographs and videos, nothing prepared us for our first glimpse of the Matterhorn. The snow-covered peak towered above the dark wooden buildings like a silent guardian of the village. Visitors lingered in the pleasant May sunshine, their conversations punctuated by frequent upward glances towards the mountain.

My nephew, who recommended our Airbnb, assured us we would need no transport: most hotels were only a few minutes away. He was right. The village is best explored on foot, though electric buses, taxis and horse-drawn carriages are available. Our bright, fourth-floor apartment at Haus Theodul had a long balcony, perfect for enjoying the afternoon before heading out.

Barely five minutes' walk brought us to the Matterhorn Museum. As a rule, I prefer not to spend a sunny day inside a museum, but this one was an exception. It tells not only the story of Zermatt's evolution from a tiny alpine hamlet into a world-famous mountain resort, but also the compelling story of the first ascent of the Matterhorn in 1865.

Led by English mountaineer Edward Whymper, a team of seven climbers reached the summit on 14 July 1865, narrowly beating a rival party approaching from the Italian side. The triumph was tragically short-lived. During the descent, one climber slipped, pulling three others to their deaths down the north face. Only Whymper and the two Taugwalder guides survived to return to Zermatt.

The museum preserves reminders of that day: the boots, rosary and prayer book recovered from the climbers, and most moving of all, the broken rope that failed under the strain. Another exhibit marks Felicité Carrel's attempt to scale the Matterhorn in 1867. Forced to turn back by fierce winds that made her heavy skirts impossible to manage, she came within 200 m of the summit. The point from where she retreated now bears her name.

The next morning, the Alpine village was still waking up when we made our way across to the Gornergrat Bahn Terminal, directly opposite Zermatt railway station. The cogwheel railway has been carrying visitors up the mountain since 1898, making it the highest open-air railway in Europe. Like everything else in Switzerland, it ran with clockwork precision. At seven o'clock sharp, our train began its steady climb towards Gornergrat, ascending almost 1,500 m over a distance of just nine kilometres. Within minutes, the village disappeared below us.

Every turn of the track opened new vistas of a snowy wonderland. The stations passed like notes of music—Findelbach, Riffelalp, Riffelberg and Rotenboden. Hikers and skiers boarded and left for the mountains, a reminder that spring in the valley still meant winter at higher altitudes.

When we finally reached Gornergrat, we stepped out into crisp mountain air and one of the most spectacular panoramas we had ever seen. Spread before us were glaciers, snowfields and an astonishing collection of peaks stretching in every direction. The Matterhorn stood proudly among them, but it was joined by nearly 30 summits rising above 4,000 m.

No amount of planning prepares you for that first sight. There was no hurry. We walked slowly around the viewing platform, stopping every few steps to absorb another angle of the mountains. The Gorner Glacier, the second longest in Europe, was visible far below. Every now and then, someone would gasp softly or point excitedly towards a distant peak. Cameras clicked constantly, yet everyone seemed aware that no photograph could truly capture what lay before us.

Eventually, practical matters reminded us that we had a few more boxes to tick before leaving Gornergrat. We paid a visit to the Chapelle of St Bernhard, patron saint of mountaineers, and viewed the Zoom Matterhorn, a virtual armchair paragliding experience to get close to the iconic peak. Reluctantly, we boarded the train once again, travelling one stop downhill to Rotenboden, from where a short walk leads to the famous Riffelsee. The little lake is celebrated for offering perhaps the finest reflection of the Matterhorn on a still day. It was an image we had looked forward to ever since planning the trip. But nature had other ideas. A notice at the station informed us that the trail remained closed because of lingering snow. So, we spent a little more time simply admiring the scenery. Sometimes travel is as much about accepting what you cannot see as appreciating what you can.

And soon it was time to descend once more to Zermatt. The return journey was no less enchanting than the ascent. Familiar landscapes looked different in the changing light, and the Matterhorn seemed reluctant to let us go, appearing one last time through the carriage window before disappearing behind the mountains.

The afternoon was spent exploring Zermatt’s quaint streets, including Hinterdorfstrasse, its oldest, lined with stone and log houses untouched since 1800. In the evening, we crossed Kirchbrücke, a short footbridge over the Vispa, then hiked 30 minutes up winding paths to Schönegg, overlooking Zermatt. As the village lights slowly came on, the lofty Matterhorn stood in the gathering darkness.

That night, as we prepared to leave Zermatt the following morning, I found myself thinking less about the mountain than about the journey that had brought us there. The Matterhorn is undoubtedly one of the world's greatest natural icons, but what makes it truly memorable is the tiny Alpine village that sits at its foothills.

The Information

Getting there: Fly to Zurich or Geneva, then take the train via Visp. Zermatt is car-free; those driving must park at Täsch and continue by train or taxi.

Best time: December-April for skiing; June-September for hiking.

Visa: Indian passport holders need a Schengen visa for Switzerland. Applications are submitted through VFS Global.

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