A Little Slice of Paradise
I spent my childhood in Udine, Italy, where my father, an Air Force officer, was stationed from about 1952 to 1957. We did not live on the base but in a rented two story house. Our Italian landlord lived on the second floor, and our family of four occupied the lower level.
I can still remember the wonderful aromas wafting down from the kitchen of the Italian family above us. My mother would on occasion visit with our second story neighbors and try to glean a few secrets in an attempt to recreate the delicious smells in her kitchen. A time or two she even brought down a few tasty dishes for us to sample. To this day, I love Italian food! Great pasta is hard to beat!
For generations, food has been a big part of the Italian culture. As a small boy, I well remember the wonderful smells from the various bakeries in Udine, where delicious breads and pastries were baked fresh everyday, bread that was hard and crusty on the outside but soft on the inside continues to be my gold standard of how bread should be textured. Red and green grapes were ubiquitous in every grocery store in Italy, and they were inexpensive, too. Various kinds of cheeses were also in abundance. Consequently, there were always bread, grapes and cheeses in our small refrigerator, which my brother and I were forever munching on.
Many of my early learning experiences took place during my years in Europe. An Italian carpenter, working in our house, took time to teach me to tie my shoes. My best friend was an Italian boy who spoke little if any English. I learned that our language barrier didn’t prevent us from becoming good friends and playing happily together for hours each day. I learned my ABCs in an Italian school where American parents had leased several rooms for English speaking children. I learned to ride a bicycle on the dirt road in front of our house, aided, of course, by my Italian playmate. From my bedroom window, I learned to appreciate the magnificent view of the Alps that greeted me each morning when I awoke. Their snow-covered peaks, even in the heat of summer, fascinated me then and now.
Whenever my father had leave, we traveled to places like Rome, Venice, Florence, Munich, Berlin, Geneva, Salzburg, and Vienna. My memories of these vacation spots are foggy, but I have snapshot recollections of the Colosseum in Rome, riding in a gondola in Venice and skiing in the Alps. I also remember traveling by car in a blizzard in the mountains. My dad had to pull off the road and put chains on the tires for traction. After hours of tedious driving through the snow storm, we pulled into a small hotel somewhere in Austria. For dinner that night my dad allowed my brother and me to order anything on the menu. We immediately chose steak and French fries (Pommes frites). I still remember the mountain of French fries the waiter brought to our table. We couldn’t eat them all! It was as close to heaven as a five-year-old could imagine.
Perhaps these early experiences of living abroad helped instill in me a love for travel, especially to countries where the languages and cultures are different from those of the States. There is so much to learn and enjoy by spending time in foreign countries—from the people you meet, to the food, to the customs and cultures, and countless other surprises that await the adventuresome wanderer. Augustine of Hippo compared the world to a book and not to travel limits one to reading only one page. We in the modern world are so fortunate to be able to visit distant places and experience wonders that even the Pharaohs and Caesars couldn’t envision.
Bormio, a mountain village in the Italian Alps
My family returned to the States halfway through my second grade year of elementary school, but I have never lost my love for Europe. Whenever I had the opportunity to go back, whether it was a conference, language school or postgraduate work, I jumped at the chance. In the 1980s, while attending a preaching conference in Switzerland, my wife and I met a missionary couple, Charles and Bobbie Cottle, who would become lifelong friends. They introduced us to a quaint village, ensconced in the Swiss Alps, called Grindelwald (the “wald” is pronounced like “vault”) in the Berner Oberland region.
We immediately fell in love with the charm of this small Swiss village. During the mid 1980s, the glaciers encroached almost to the edge of the town, but today these former icy behemoths have receded almost to the point of extinction due to climate change. In the near future, virtually all of the glaciers in Europe will disappear.
Grindelwald, Switzerland July 2021 with parts of Mattenberg in the background.
While the climate has changed, there is still much to enjoy in this rustic village. It is basically a rural town, with cows and sheep sprinkled along the sides of the mountains. When one hikes the mountain trails, you often pass by farm animals, and, on occasion, llamas, who barely glance your way. During the fall of the year, the farmers bring the bell laden cows down from the higher pasture elevations, where they have spent the summer grazing, and parade the livestock through town. To commemorate the festive event, the cows often wear headdresses with bouquets of flowers attached! In the early spring, this tradition is repeated, except the cows are led up the mountain—called in German, “Alpaufzug,” meaning, taking the cows up the mountain. In the fall, the process is called “Alpabzug,” or bringing the cows down from the mountain.
Alpaufzug, meaning, taking the cows up the mountain
As the rest of the world discovers Grindelwald, more and more tourists visit each year. They come primarily to travel by cog train up to the Jungfraujoch, a spectacular “saddle” connecting the peaks Jungfrau and the Mönch. Joining these two peaks is the world famous Eiger, one of the most foreboding and challenging peaks for climbers in the Alps. The railway station, at an elevation of over 11,000 feet, is the highest in Europe and was built in the early 1900s.
Eiger Mountain viewed from Grindelwald during sunrise hours.
While these natural and man-made wonders are worth seeing, there is so much more to this region of Switzerland to enjoy than just the Jungfraujoch. Unfortunately, too many tourists merely scratch the surface when it comes to experiencing Switzerland. Many of the Swiss inhabitants of this region are disappointed that the tourists don’t come to absorb the Swiss culture or food or spend time getting to know the geography or converse with the people, almost all of whom speak good English, but only take pictures of a few of the scenic places and then leave.
Our two grown sons question why we keep going back to the same place when there are so many other beautiful cities and countries to see. Of course they have a valid point. The world is filled with interesting places and people and travel enlarges our appreciation for other countries and cultures. While my wife and I have been privileged to travel fairly extensively in the Middle East and Europe in our life together, at this point in our journey, we just enjoy the familiarity of Grindelwald. We cherish the people, the culture, the food, and the beauty of this alpine paradise. If Augustine was right that the world is a book, we have bookmarked the chapter on Grindelwald and continue to turn to it time and again.
