As a huge fan, genuinely wanting to please her, I tried to think of something uncommon to say when my turn came to meet her. But in a second, she was directly in front of me and without even thinking I blurted, "I support your symbolic neutral statements on sexuality when you cross-dressed in Victor Victoria!" (For the non-Julie Andrews fan, Victor Victoria was a play in which Ms. Andrews played the role of a Victoria, who sometimes dressed and acted more like a Victor!) At this statement, she raised her head and uttered in her famous English accent (imagine Mary Poppins), "How odd, young man, but thank you indeed." I blushed but was content that I got her attention – she must have thought me strange. Thus was a memorable experience I recall fondly during my four-month stay in Gstaad.
Gstaad (pronounced with an almost imperceptible and quick G sound followed by "shtad") is one of Switzerland’s most beautiful ski resort towns located in the province of Bern, which is a playground famous for celebrities. Prince Rainier of Monaco, Roger Moore, Liz Taylor and Tina Turner have all owned chalets here. Gstaad is a see-and-be-seen spot, with less importance placed on its excellent skiing grounds than on the social scene – aprés ski, aprés concert or aprés match. Approximately a 45-minute train ride from the lakeside town of Montreux is the most convenient way to access the 1,000-meter- above-sea level location of Gstaad. The up-mountain ride affords the passenger a panoramic view of the lake, the old town, and sprawling vineyards during spring. The train passes by this distinctive yellow house, which is owned by an elderly lady, and if you pass here at certain times, she will be at her porch earnestly waving her welcome.
My arrival at this town saw me over-packed for my stay with three suitcases at the onset of the ski peak season in December. I was thinking of innumerable nights when I could to go out and wear my party clothes. Big mistake – it was work, work and more work with a stiff black suit as my daily de rigueur. My job as night manager-in-training at one of the luxury hotels was procured as a practicum requirement from my hotel school located also in Switzerland. My home in Gstaad was a chalet that I rented; it was conveniently about a five-minute walk from work. The view from my bedroom window included the snow-capped Alps and a distant field grazing with fat Swiss cows, whose large collar bells sometimes tolled quietly in the wind.
As it was close to Christmas, our hotel was fully booked (and understaffed) till the second week of January. This predicament saw me working straight for three weeks with nary day off. A typical working shift would generally start with my reporting to the front desk at 8 p.m. for the transfer of tasks from the day manager. I would then go about checking the hotel’s occupancy and reservations, and arrange ski packages and special requests. Supervisory tasks such as randomly inspecting the rooms and restaurants to make sure that everything was in good order would then follow. After these regular duties, nothing at work was ever typical – the pleasure and satisfaction of every guest’s whim were my only definite guidelines in proceeding with work.
I remember that at one point on Christmas Eve, I was juggling the tasks of 1) answering a call every two minutes from a certain duchess to speed up the delivery of her silk crimson evening gown that had been brought down to the laundry just an hour earlier, 2) timing the chilling of a bottle of Petrus to its ideal temperature, because the guest who had strictly ordered its perfection looked like he could easily twist my neck, 3) listening to the thick-accented complaints of our Austrian chef telling me that we had not ordered enough goose liver for his Christmas paté, and 4) trying to locate the whereabouts of a package that was supposed to have been couriered the day before.
My job was extremely difficult at first but I soon learned to expect that irregularity was regular at work. My shift would usually end by 6 a.m. with the morning manager taking over my duties. I would then take the five-minute walk home through a snow path, expect the neighbor’s dog’s boisterous barking as I neared my chalet, take a warm shower and drink a hot cup of tea made from the salabat mixture my mom had sent from Manila.
My leisure days in Gstaad were what I looked forward to the most. I decided to take up skiing lessons and vowed never to leave the town till I at least had mastered the slopes – I pictured myself as James Bond suavely zig-zagging a deep slope, then proceeding to have a glass of champagne aprés-skiing. I soon downgraded this image to at least being able to ski 100 feet downhill without falling flat on my face, as it took me almost a week to learn how to put the brakes on my skis. Nevertheless, I at least enjoyed wearing the ski outfits and oversized snow shades.
Being a small town, shopping in Gstaad is quite limited. However, for those with credit cards made of precious metals, Hermes could be found on Palacestrasse. Otherwise, there are a number of souvenir shops where you can purchase cuckoo clocks and the ubiquitous Swiss knife. Dining offers the most spoiled gourmand satisfactory choices – a must is the Restaurant Chesery with 18 Gault Millaut points and the Restaurant La Bagatelle with 16 points. Aprés Dining, a 35 Swiss franc (approximately $25) vodka tonic can be had at the bar of the famed Palace Hotel – price includes hobnobbing with persons whose last names often begin with Van, Von or De. If you have a lesser budget and like the cozy comfort of a large mug of beer and a warm atmosphere, then head to Charly’s. Gstaad’s social calendar is fully packed year round. At the top of the heap are the Menuhin International Classical Musical Festival and the Swiss Tennis Open, both in July, and The Cartier Polo Silver Cup in August.
Despite Gstaad’s seeming air of grandiloquence and the dizzying highlife it generously offers to those who can afford them, I believe that Gstaad’s best asset is its beautiful setting of scenic trails, thickly forested slopes and the charm of authentic chalet architecture. The price of its enjoyment is similar to that of the best things in life – it’s free!