16-Oct-2026
Grindelwald, Switzerland
Okay. Another mountain day. It's Grindelwald day. The Swiss' public transport deserves another mention of top repute. It's a seamless combination of trains, trams, cable cars, and buses; with one tiny feedback about signage needing to be in larger fonts. Probably, this is the only way to make the Swiss frown their faces once a day; who are otherwise always-smiling-if-not-straightfaced folk.
The day went fairly as planned, with inclined walking as its theme. Careful planning helped us be back at Wengen by nightfall. This has always happened to me: a sense of satiation that borders on surfeit; around the fifth-to-seventh day of every holiday we take. An excess consumption of all things scenic, beautiful, and aesthetically pleasing. That I've had enough; and I need a dosage of quotidian routine to revive the vacation spirit. The evening brought just that. We spent that evening like we spend most evenings of our life. Light and night - turned off in sync with retired Europeans.
17-Oct-2026
Jungfraujoch - Top of Europe
Switzerland
3rd mountain-ing day in a row. I was coming to the end of my mountain battery, was what I felt while dressing up in layers that morning. Little did I know that Jungfrau was going to be the highlight of our snowy adventures. Such a smooth ride, thanks to the mighty powerful trains climbing up mountains at almost 45° angle, and we were at the neck of Jungfrau glacier. It's famous for being the world's skiing battleground (with a skiing world cup due in Feb'27). And even our novice eyes could see why. It's a glacier painted by the proverbial drunk Russian novelist. Danger deceivingly hiding behind the beauty of it all. Thanks to capitalism, I could crack open a cold beer at the 4000-odd mt. altitude at 12 pm, but not without Haryanvi music playing in the background and annoyingly cheerful Indian youths dancing and ensuring their dance-moves (and bearded faces) are well videographed.
We harked back to the base of Jungfrau (bolded spelling is the region's name; and this one's the mountain's), found an Asian place, and shared a tomato rice sold as Biryani. Was it tasty? Or, were we hungry?
The day's end had a move-on to Interlaken. Practically a city nested between 2 lakes. At this point, I'm certain that whatever few mental health therapists the country has, they all have a blanket remedy printed on their Rx pads: step out of your house, look around, and breath. I'll die on this hill.
An Indian-run, lake-facing hotel (not before we lugged our suitcases up a hill) had a room waiting: an Indian-style hotel room that doesn't ask for a touchpad room key but a good ol' fashioned lock-n-key. That took care of Swathi sleeping untroubled.
Before sleeping, we'd gone to Taj Palace. For some spicy rice after kilos of bread over the last 1 week. A frenetic, middle-aged man ministering a steady stream of diners -- turns out he's a friend of the restaurant's (Indian) owner, and a Pakistani himself. From Lahore. Came in to have a meal, and ended up waiting tables for the evening to help out his Indian friend. We shared some cigarette time. He blew out smoke and hope for his country in one breath.
18-Oct-2026
Interlaken, Switzerland --> Milán, Italy
Swathi knows she was pushing me with 3 snow-laden days consecutively. She followed it with a warm, walking day in Interlaken, peppered with coffee stops and shopping breaks.
A pleasant day with a stormy evening brewing.
Us crossing into Italy had several changeovers between the two countries; at obscure stations that looked eerie & abandoned. While I'm low-key proud we've showed up at all places at least 20 minutes ahead of time, this unmistakably-Italian station Domodossola had our train arriving at a different platform (as opposed to what was announced), and leaving too. A 30-odd bunch of us stood stranded, asking mutely for help, looking at passersby who either didn't want to help, or couldn't if they wanted to. How were we supposed to know that the train's platform had changed? Someone way down in Giorgia Meloni's pecking order should answer. Should answer in English, at that.
After the proverbial hitchhiking, we arrived in Milán.
We also brought in Swathi's birthday with a poorly baked pizza and a couple of non-alcoholic Corona beers at around 0100 hrs, Italy time.
19-Oct-2026
Milán --> Venice, | Italy
Lazy morning has been the theme on our special days. We checked out at 1200 hrs, on dot. To go about the city. Pro tip post fuckup - In Italy, Don't Trust Either Apps or Announcement Boards. Always Ask Uniformed Staff.
Milán's just recovering from protests that overkilled their purpose and overstayed their welcome. Locals' words, not mine. That coupled with its inconsistent public transport takes Non-Italofono visitors for a wild ride, scratching their heads and bobbing between a tram stop, and a train station, and a bus stop. Ticket kiosks laugh at you in Italian after you select English as the transacting language. Trains run at their own time, with a characteristic languor of a Hyderabadi shop-owner. The schedule is when the train comes, not the other way around.
Duomo di Miláno was magnificent though. Its construction slugged across 6 centuries, and it didn't amuse the Indian in me. That's still quicker than a ton of court cases in India. A lot of walking with a shade-side, nice lunch at one of the plaza-bedecked cafés in the Brera district.
Milán redeems itself (Swathi's words) with its astounding architecture, and its railways stations stand at the front & centre of such architectural displays.
I am typing this from our train to Venice, which we boarded at Miláne Centrale railway station. On a different day far in the future, if the materialist-me revisits Italy with my own chauffeur-driven pit stops, I'll be less agitated to stop and marvel at the station's breathtaking construct, shape, and form.
I guess I've one last blog piece to come about this trip. I will be back in a few days.
A presto!
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