Autumn in Engadine. What an experience.
Yellow has wrapped the trees and the valleys. A sharp bite in the breeze fills my lungs with the cool autumn air. Winter is coming, but autumn is here.
I have swung to this south-eastern valley in Switzerland for three separate trips — each memorable in its own way.
The First
A close friend floated the idea to me three years ago.
“How about going to Engadine in October?” Zsubi asks.
I’ve seen the pictures on Instagram and was intrigued. Surely it couldn’t be that yellow and picturesque.
What followed was the most scenic train ride I have ever experienced. We wound through old Swiss towns, curved along bridges, and clung to the steep mountainside as rivers and valleys of gold spilled out on alternating sides.
Rain ushered in our first day, and snow our second. We fumbled through the fog at Lago Bianco, squinted for Lago da Palü, then hopped on a train going the wrong way.
We ate our hearts out on Italian-meets-Swiss autumn cuisine. Our last day took us on a misty funicular to a famous viewpoint on Muottas Muragl, before returning home sated.
The Second
Three years later.
When brilliant photographer and outdoor enthusiast Julia Wunsch invited me to join her on her annual migration to Engadine, I couldn’t say no.
It was through her lens that I discovered this valley years ago.
Three years later, we sat on the same train, in the dark, and arrived at our Youth Hostel in St. Moritz. We prepared our gear, charged our cameras, and tucked in early. We would be leaving long before sunrise the next day.
We marched to Lake Staz in the dark, with stars and headlamps lighting the way. Upon arrival, we saw other eager photographers had flocked to the same spot. We found our position and waited for the light.
And it was beautiful. Sunlight cracked open the valley, flooding into every crevice, swimming through the roads, and bathing the trees in extraordinary brilliance.
Having been here exactly three years ago, I was surprised to see how little snow there was this time. Instead, the bare mountains were a raw tawny colour, exposing all the layers of the mountain’s architecture.
For the rest of the day, we kept moving. We were on a peripatetic mission to photograph as much as we could. Muottas Muragl was our final stop for sunset and blue hour.
Our tired bodies made it back to the bunk beds at 10pm.
The Third
One week later. This time, I initiated the journey.
My close friend Oda was in Switzerland for our premiere of Partly Sunny, and I planned a three-day trip to the same valley.
We chose a different mode of transportation. We drove by car, climbing mountain passes and stopping at the first sight of snow for Molly to play. This was going to be a girls’ trip.
We stayed in Bever again. I loved it so much the first time. Our base camp was a studio apartment.
The pace was a little different. It was my dog Molly’s first adventure with us, and it took us all some time to get used to it. We started with a slow walk through the trees to the same Lake Staz I photographed for sunrise one week prior.
The next day, we challenged ourselves to climb Muottas Muragl from Pontresina. This 700m climb was my first big hike this year, and it felt good to be working my body that way again. A lunch in the sun was the highlight of the day.
Sticking to familiar waters, we set of to Lago Bianco our final day. We hugged the lake's northern shore as we walked south toward Alp Grüm to dip back into the trees. At 2500m above sea level, we had plenty of snow to indulge Molly’s Malamute ancestry.
With a spot of tea on a cliff, we admired the mountains to the south, dreaming of other big adventures. Lunch was set at the sunny benches at Alp Grüm, bathing in the heat while watching tourists mill around below.
