The simple act of checking a map—whether a folded paper version or the digital interface of Google Maps—has always felt like holding a promise: no matter where you are, you can find your way home. That belief solidified with every journey I took.
A Serendipitous Discovery in the Swiss Alps
A last-minute glance at a map led to an unexpected detour and a heartwarming encounter in a remote Swiss village.
- A spontaneous decision to visit Grächen, Switzerland, based on a friend’s story and a glance at Google Maps.
- The allure of a small mountain village known for hosting an ultra-trail race.
- An unexpected connection with the local community through a chance encounter at a Sunday worship service.
- The freedom and simplicity of camping as a way to connect with nature and escape constraints.
On the final night in Zermatt, Switzerland, I found myself idly scrolling through Google Maps in the darkness of my tent. A village caught my eye, situated about 15 degrees off the mountain train route from Chairmat to Visp. It was called ‘Grächen.’ The name sparked a memory—a friend, a trail runner based in Nepal, had once recounted a trip there. He described it as the starting point for a grueling, three-day ultra-trail race that stretched to the Italian border, and suggested I visit if I ever found myself in the Alps.
A quick search revealed that reaching Grächen from Chairmat was straightforward: a train to St. Niklaus, followed by a bus ride. Even better, the village boasted a campground. For a solo traveler, the promise of secure lodging is paramount, but it can also feel restrictive. The freedom of a tent, however, offers a welcome escape from those constraints. Switzerland, with its pristine alpine landscapes, understandably enforces strict camping regulations—a fine of over 1,000 Swiss francs (approximately $1,100 USD) awaits those who camp outside designated areas. But a well-equipped campsite is worth its weight in peace of mind.
The next day, I left Chairmat and headed to Grächen via St. Niklaus. The village sits on a plateau 1,620 meters (5,315 feet) above sea level, encircled by mountains exceeding 3,000 meters (9,843 feet) in altitude, including the Distelhorn, Seetalhorn, and Plathorn. The scenery was breathtaking. In Switzerland’s German-speaking regions, the term ‘horn’ refers to a sharp mountain peak, like the iconic Matterhorn.
I arrived at the Grechen campground in the drizzling rain around 8 a.m. Without a reservation, I sat on a bench, brewing tea and waiting for the office to open. After about an hour, Sarah, the campground owner, appeared with her dog, welcoming me as the first guest of the day. She inquired about how I’d discovered Grächen and if I’d participated in the ‘Ultra Trail Monte Rosa.’ I explained my impromptu detour and she shared that the 170km race had concluded two days prior, with runners returning to the finish line that day. She directed me to the village square, anticipating a festive atmosphere.
The Grechen Campground was a spacious, auto-friendly site, a step up from the more rustic campground at Chairmat. It offered convenient amenities like a shared kitchen, bathrooms, and laundry facilities. At 30 Swiss francs (approximately $33 USD) per night, it felt like a steal.
As Sarah predicted, the clouds parted around noon, revealing the stunning alpine scenery. I walked the 3km to Grechen Square, a winding uphill climb. A finish-line archway marked the ‘Monterosa Ultra Trail Race.’ I lingered, imagining the runners’ triumphant returns, then ventured toward the mountain overlooking the village. The mountains always seem to beckon, pulling me into their depths. I followed a trail marked with race flags, picturing the athletes pushing their limits.
Lost in thought, I wandered off the marked path, finding myself surrounded by shadows and a growing sense of unease. I retraced my steps, relieved to find my way back. I hadn’t seen the race finish, but I vowed to return someday and run those mountains myself.
The next afternoon, I climbed the mountain behind the campsite. I stumbled upon a small church, where an outdoor worship service was about to begin. “Welcome,” someone called out. “Sit, pray with us, and share some bread.” It felt like a moment of providence. I sat on the steps, and the villagers smiled warmly. Soon, a choir filled the valley with hymns, and tears welled up in my eyes.
Jang Bo-young, author of ‘Anyway, Mountain’
