Gstaad. The good looks of a picture-book village, where low-slung chalets nestle between Postman Pat-style rolling hills. A place with global renown thanks to the celebrities who pour in every year to find solitude. I was expecting ritzy and off-putting, certainly a place I wouldn't warm to. How wrong I could have been.
Narnia comes to mind - that moment when the White Witch has been defeated and winter is beginning to melt. For we are walking between frozen trees, their branches like intricate wrought iron railings dusted in snow. But above, the vivid palette of autumn rages in a froth of rust and sienna.
Emily Rose Mawson
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