Jun 01, 2026

Switzerland: Perspective at 11,000 Feet

I said goodbye to my friend in Amsterdam and made my way to Zurich, where, in one of those small travel miracles, my second friend happened to land from the States at nearly the exact same time. Within minutes we were hugging in arrivals, laughing at the fact that we were now in Switzerland together, ready for whatever this next chapter would bring.

If The Netherlands felt like wandering through art, Switzerland felt like stepping inside a postcard.

Zurich has a quiet polish about it that you notice almost immediately. The cobbled streets in the Old Town are impossibly clean, the shop windows feel curated rather than cluttered, and church bells echo softly across the Limmat River as trams glide past. We stayed at Hotel Marktgasse, one of the oldest guest houses in Zurich, where centuries-old beams and stone walls meet thoughtful modern updates. It felt historic without feeling dated, and the location, tucked right into Zurich’s Old Town, meant we could step outside and instantly be part of the rhythm of the city.

We wandered across bridges and down winding streets, slipping through narrow corridors, popping into cafés and shops, soaking in that distinctly Swiss balance of efficiency and ease. Eventually we decided it was time to visit Lucerne. We were on a mission for “serious” watch shopping, though in truth we had no idea what was waiting for us there.

The moment we arrived in Lucerne, it felt as though we had stepped into a snow globe. The wooden Chapel Bridge stretched across the Reuss River, framed by mountain backdrops that looked almost unreal. The lake shimmered beneath soft alpine light, and the cool air carried the faint scent of water and stone. We wandered slowly, lingering over lunch along the waterfront, browsing boutiques, and admiring the beautiful architecture that surrounds the lake and flows throughout the town. We paused more than once simply to take in the view.

There is a softness to Lucerne despite the dramatic mountain surroundings. It feels romantic without trying to be. Peaceful without being sleepy. Even now, when I think about Switzerland, Lucerne rises to the surface first.

But as much as I loved both Zurich and Lucerne, the experience that anchored my time in Switzerland was our journey to Jungfraujoch, the Top of Europe.

We met our guide early in Zurich and boarded a coach bus bound for the Bernese Oberland. As we drove deeper into the countryside, the scenery shifted from polished city streets to rolling green valleys dotted with chalets and grazing cows. Our first stop was Interlaken, nestled between Lakes Brienz and Thun, where pastel buildings, bakery windows filled with pastries, and snow-capped peaks in the distance made even a short break feel cinematic.

From Interlaken we continued to Grindelwald to board the Eiger Express gondola. It was incredibly foggy that day, which in hindsight may have been a gift. I could see enough to appreciate the height and the dramatic drop below, but not enough to fully process how suspended we were above the valley floor. The world faded in and out of view as we ascended, the glass cabin quiet except for the soft mechanical hum of the lift. Had it been perfectly clear, I might have had a very different reaction to just how high we were.

At the Eiger Glacier station, we transferred to the cogwheel train that climbs dramatically through the mountain itself. The engineering alone is astonishing. As the train makes its steady ascent, the peaks of Eiger, Mönch, and Jungfrau rise sharply against the sky. The closer you get, the more surreal it feels.

And then you arrive at Jungfraujoch.

At over 11,000 feet, the air is noticeably thinner and sharper in your lungs. The wind whips across the Sphinx Observation Terrace, stinging your cheeks and making your eyes water as you look out over the Aletsch Glacier, the longest glacier in the Alps. It stretches endlessly, a river of ancient ice winding between jagged peaks. The silence at that altitude feels almost reverent, broken only by wind and the muffled crunch of boots on packed snow.

What struck me most was not just the height of the mountains, but the scale of it all. You feel small in the best possible way. And then you realize that the experience does not end with the view. You are not simply standing near a glacier. You are standing on one, and eventually, you are inside it.

The Ice Palace carved within the glacier feels like stepping into another world. The walls shimmer in white, smooth and shockingly cold to the touch. The floors are slick beneath your feet as you move carefully through carved hallways and caverns. Swiss sculptures and decorative carvings appear unexpectedly within the frozen tunnels. It is massive, surreal, and humbling, and difficult to put into words just how expansive it is.

And yes, on the morning of this unforgettable adventure, I dropped my wallet.

Yes. My wallet.

The one with my passport, my credit cards, a significant amount of cash in multiple currencies, and my COVID vaccination record, which at the time was required for travel. When we realized it was gone, my mind immediately began calculating worst-case scenarios. Hours or even days at the U.S. consulate. Canceled flights. Trying to replace documents in a foreign country. Our guide calmly suggested calling Zurich Lost and Found. I laughed, not because it was funny, but because in my American brain, I had already assumed it was gone forever. My friend, now in full panic mode, offered to skip Jungfraujoch so we could search for it. But there was nothing I could realistically do in that moment, so I made the decision to go. To experience the Top of Europe while my passport potentially floated somewhere in Zurich without me.

Turns out, I’m very glad I did.

The next day, we visited the official Lost and Found office and there it was. My wallet. Passport intact. Cards untouched. Even my vaccination record carefully preserved. The cash was gone, which I chose to see as a fair reward for whoever turned it in, but everything essential remained. I walked out of that office feeling grateful. Not just relieved, but steadier somehow. Switzerland had already given me staggering beauty. The rest simply became part of the story.

The truth is, it was intense. But it’s not what stayed with me.

What stayed with me was the mountain. The glacier. The sharp, cold air at 11,000 feet and the way the world looked from that height. Standing there, surrounded by something so vast and ancient, my worries felt smaller, not because they disappeared or didn’t matter, but because they were placed in context.

Switzerland holds a piece of my heart for many reasons. But when I think back on it, what I remember most isn’t the wallet. It’s the wind on that terrace, the sting in my cheeks, the endless stretch of white ice unfolding in every direction. I remember the silence, and the feeling of standing on something that existed long before me and will remain long after.

-Carrie H.