From Zuoz the road to Bergun becomes immediately steep. You drive through the Albula Pass, look at the unique landscape around you and think this is how Iceland must look like, powerfully luscious, mysterious and unfamiliar, with magnetic green vegetation, stones, grazing animals and moody skies. You go past a small emerald lake; the air is cold at high altitude. Then you start descending and get back to a village of only a few picturesque houses and farmhouses. Kurhaus is a big mountain hotel. You walk up the staircase, open a burgundy door. You’ve landed in the Belle Époque where women are called dames, the living room is a gem of Art Nouveau style and original in every detail, and the hosts indulge in a variety of games that make this place a triumph of the family holiday concept; there’s a pool table, a dance room and a reading room. Everything is symmetric. The long corridors on the top floors, the tricycles and the swings outside the glass doors and the smell of cooked meals remind of a summer camp from the childhood, one of those that blend sweet memories and good taste.
Words Meraviglia Paper, pictures Omar Sartor.