March 17-18, 2002
Judging by the shops, every citizen owns 80 Swiss Army knives, 10 pairs of skis, 20 watches, a wardrobe of snow pants and eats a chocolate bar each day. This is Murren, a stone throw away from Gimmelwald and arguably better views, but an absentee landlord's hotel lodge obstructs most angles. The attitude is different with "my ski boots are better than thou's" greetings.
If I hadn't known about Gimmelwald I would have ended up in a place like this, in the splendor, but missing part of the magic. If a clever schoolteacher hadn't thought about declaring tiny Gimmelwald as an avalanche zone to disallow construction, there might not be a Gimmelwald.
I'm in Murren just passing through and looking at postcards. On my last day, I walked a good distance to get back to Interlaken. On the easy path, the views open up, unobstructed except for the hourly two- car train (always on time) that clunks past.