Today we got to Switzerland 🇨🇭 and I was so surprised when I figured out how cold it was compared to Spain 🇪🇸. At the airport we got 54€ at McDonald’s?!? We just got two large fries 🍟 and two large chicken nuggets 🐔.
Free fries! 🍟
When we got to the cabin we quickly found the bedrooms and decided who would sleep 💤 where. Lidia went insane when she saw the hot tub 🛁. For some reason there was two chess boards,one big one small.
At the end of the day we went to a pizzeria and there was a mini playground 🛝 for the kids. It is kinda confusing because some people speak English and some people speak Spanish and some people speak French and many others.
I was going to do this post of 1 day, but I didn’t have time.however, we went ziplining on the tallest zipline in the world.
Me getting ready to zip
I have like ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA HOW MANY CHAIRLIFTS WE WENT ON. It took a long time to get to the top of the mountain,but we had to wear GIGANTIC backpacks that only held 1 thing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
At the end of the day,(4pm) we were going to go on the chairlift AGAIN TWICE but the person that ran the lift said that if we went up,we would have to not go back down on the lift. We were so glad he had told us,otherwise we’d have been stuck.
We will be sad to go home but we have had so much fun.
Our destination was Mont Fort, one of the highest lift-accessible viewpoints in Switzerland, sitting at 3,330 meters (10,925 feet) above sea level. Getting there was an adventure in itself, requiring three different ski lifts.
Our three-part route in green
We started in Siviez (1,730 m) on a classic four-person chairlift to Tortin (2,050 m). From there, we boarded a large gondola—big enough not only for passengers but also strollers, dogs, and mountain bikes—which carried us to Col des Gentianes (2,950 m). The final leg was a smaller gondola climbing to the summit of Mont Fort.
Team Girls!
Of the three lifts, the old-fashioned chairlift was my favorite. Being out in the open, you could feel the cool alpine air, hear the rushing streams below, listen to cowbells echoing across the valley, and even catch conversations from hikers passing underneath. It was the longest ride and gave us plenty of time to soak it all in.
At one point we floated over a pasture full of cows, where two enormous bulls were locked in a battle while one particularly unlucky cow did her best to stay well out of the way. Nature’s version of reality television.
Cows with bells battle
One thing Switzerland does exceptionally well is efficiency. We bought our lift tickets once at the base, then simply scanned them at automated turnstiles before each lift. Every transfer was seamless.
Riding in the larger of the two Gondolas
Before boarding the final gondola, Lidia, #1BigSister, and I stopped to collect our zipline equipment. #1BigBrother and #1LittleSister were too young to participate, and Amir graciously volunteered to stay with them while the three of us tackled what had become the biggest adventure of the trip.
The Mont 4 Zipline claims several world records depending on how they’re measured, but what makes it unique is that it begins at one of the highest starting elevations of any zipline in the world. Watching people launch from the gondola below was intimidating enough that I briefly considered backing out. But I knew this was probably my one and only opportunity to do something like this, and I would regret letting fear win.
#1BigSister gets prepped
Before our scheduled launch, Amir wisely insisted we make time for the observation deck at the summit.
I’m so glad he did.
From the top, you can see the Matterhorn, Mont Blanc, the Grand Combin, and countless other Alpine peaks stretching in every direction. It is one of those places where photos simply cannot capture the scale.
The summit itself feels almost extraterrestrial.
View from the summit of Mont Font
The closest comparison I can make is that it felt like walking on the moon. There is almost no vegetation. Just rock, ice, glaciers, and patches of snow. Every now and then a lone butterfly would flutter by, leaving me wondering how on earth it had made its way to nearly 11,000 feet.
Adding to the surreal experience was the full-service (fairly fancy) restaurant perched near the summit. People casually enjoyed fondue, white wine, and long conversations while surrounded by a landscape that looked more like another planet than Earth. I couldn’t help wondering how they managed to get all the supplies up there. Gondola? Helicopter? Either way, it was impressive.
Fondue and wine at the summit
Then it was time.
Lidia went first.
#1BigSister followed.
I was last.
Lidia readies herself
I had planned to capture all three launches using my Meta glasses. Unfortunately, I couldn’t hear the recording chime over the wind. Instead of starting new videos, I accidentally stopped previous recordings and completely missed their launches.
Thankfully, by the time it was my turn, I had finally figured it out and managed to record my own ride.
The initial drop off the tower is over almost instantly before gravity takes over. Within seconds you’re flying at speeds approaching 60 mph (100 km/h). I quickly understood why they recommend long pants and a jacket. Even on a warm day, the wind at that speed is surprisingly cold.
They also provide goggles if you don’t have sunglasses because opening your eyes at those speeds isn’t easy. And if you make the mistake of opening your mouth, your cheeks inflate like a squirrel storing acorns for winter.
Zip line overlook
On previous adventures—whether ziplining at Camp Seafarer or paragliding in Costa Rica—I had been brave enough to strike the dramatic “starfish” pose with my arms spread wide.
Not today.
Today I held onto those straps for dear life.
The arrival was wonderfully anticlimactic. The braking system automatically slows you before you reach the landing platform, making for a smooth, gentle finish.
What surprised me most was how peaceful it was.
From below, it looks terrifying.
From the line itself, it feels surprisingly serene.
I’m incredibly glad I took the leap.
Afterward, the rest of the family rode the gondolas down to meet us. Our plan had been to celebrate with burgers at the restaurant beside the zipline station, but it happened to be closed. So we descended one gondola ride to Tortin, where we found a wonderful Italian restaurant serving pizza, lasagna, soup, sandwiches, beer, cider, and wine. Pizza is always a safe bet with our crew, and the attached playground made it an even bigger success.
The moon?
One thing we’ve noticed throughout Switzerland is that restaurants frequently include playgrounds, trampolines, or inflatable bounce houses. Families are clearly expected to linger.
Italian café at Tortin
At the same time, we’ve also noticed a cultural difference compared with Spain and Italy. In Spain and Italy, when one of our kids accidentally bumped into someone, it almost always led to smiles, funny faces, or affectionate interactions. Here in Switzerland, we’ve had several encounters where adults—particularly older adults—seemed noticeably less tolerant of even minor accidental bumps, including one on today’s gondola ride. It’s certainly not everyone, but it has been a noticeable contrast. Thankfully, the incredible playgrounds have more than made up for it from the kids’ perspective.
Cow counting from the lift
The drive back to our chalet was every bit as spectacular as the journey up.
Amir asked me to film a time-lapse as we descended the endless switchbacks. The winding mountain roads reminded both of us of driving through Crete several years ago. Amir has handled every mile of driving on this trip, and today he admitted these were the most challenging mountain roads he has ever driven. Coming from him, that got my attention. If he posts the finished time-lapse, I’ll come back and add it here because it’s worth seeing.
After our enormous Italian lunch, none of us were especially hungry for dinner. We simply picked at leftover cheese, sausage, bread, yogurt, and whatever else remained in the refrigerator at the chalet.
Tomorrow we leave the mountains behind.
We’ll pack up and begin making our way toward Zurich for the flight home, with one final stop planned at a Swiss chocolate factory along the way.
Gondola up to Mont Fort
Before this trip, I assumed that after more than two weeks away I’d be counting the hours until we got home. We usually travel for only ten to twelve days, and this has been our longest family vacation ever.
Surprisingly, I don’t feel ready for it to end.
I think I easily have another few days of adventure left in me.
But tonight the plan is simple: one last soak in the hot tub, finish the laundry, pack the suitcases, and get a good night’s sleep before one final Swiss adventure awaits.
Our first stop was the Lac Souterrain de Saint-Léonard, the largest navigable underground lake in Europe. If you’re planning a visit, reserve your tickets in advance. The boats have limited seating, tours often sell out, and with timed entry, there was virtually no waiting once we arrived.
The tour itself lasts about 30 minutes. We had dressed in layers after reading that the cave stays cool year-round, and we were glad we did. The contrast from the summer heat outside was immediate.
Our guide was just 17 years old and effortlessly conducted the tour in French, German, and English. What an impressive young man. Switzerland’s multilingual culture was on full display.
Our rower and tour guide
The underground lake stretches roughly 300 meters (about 1,000 feet) and was discovered in 1943 by Swiss speleologist Jean-Jacques Pittard. At the time, the water level was too high for boats to navigate the cave. Then, in 1946, an earthquake created cracks in the cave floor, lowering the water level just enough to allow small boats to pass. Sometimes nature rewrites the tourist guidebook.
Before leaving, we wandered through the gift shop, which was surprisingly charming and definitely worth a quick look.
From Saint-Léonard, it was just a 15-minute drive to Sion, a beautiful valley town watched over by two historic landmarks perched on neighboring hills.
Château de Tourbillon
On one hill stands Château de Tourbillon, a fortified castle built between 1297 and 1308 by the bishops of Sion. Originally constructed as both a military stronghold and the bishop’s residence, it commanded sweeping views of the Rhône Valley and served as a powerful symbol of the church’s authority. Although much of the castle was destroyed in a devastating fire in 1788, its stone ruins remain remarkably impressive, and ongoing restoration continues to preserve this piece of Swiss history.
Basilique de Valère in the distance
Across the valley sits the Basilique de Valère, built between approximately 1100 and 1130. More fortress than church in appearance, the basilica served both religious and defensive purposes during the Middle Ages. It is home to one of the oldest playable pipe organs in the world, dating back to the 15th century, and has been an important pilgrimage site for centuries. Walking through its ancient stone walls, it’s impossible not to imagine the generations who climbed the same path long before us.
Inside the basilica
Amir was determined to tackle the climb to Tourbillon Castle despite the 90-degree heat and the altitude. The rest of us were a bit less ambitious. We settled into a café where the kids enjoyed ice cream while Lidia and I cooled off with Aperol Spritzes.
Not sorry
Eventually, Lidia and #1 Big Brother decided they wanted to join Amir after all. As Lidia wisely pointed out, she may never have another chance to visit this place. Opportunities like this aren’t meant to be watched from a café.
View of the valley from Château de Tourbillon
Meanwhile, the two girls and I finished our treats and opted for the gentler climb to Valère Basilica instead. With more shade and a slightly more forgiving ascent, it felt like the right choice for us.
As always, the climb proved worthwhile. Whether you conquer the castle or the basilica, the reward is the same: panoramic views of the valley, vineyards stretching into the distance, and the satisfaction of knowing you earned them. Everyone returned with huge smiles—and, of course, enough photos to prove their accomplishment.
On the drive home, we stopped at the grocery store to pick up dinner. One thing we’ve learned quickly is that Switzerland is breathtaking… and breathtakingly expensive. After paying 25 CHF (about $30) for each of two small plates of plain penne with tomato sauce for the kids at lunch, we unanimously decided tonight would be a home-cooked meal.
Town of Sion, Switzerland
Amir fired up the outdoor grill, cooking two kinds of Swiss sausage, chicken satay, and a spread of delicious sides. We finished dinner with chocolate biscuits from the chocolate factory we’ll be touring before we leave—a little preview of what’s to come.
Tomorrow promises another adventure as we head to Mont Fort to ride one of the world’s longest and highest zip lines. At nearly 0.87 miles long and speeds approaching 60 mph, it should be equal parts breathtaking and terrifying.
As an emergency physician, I’ve probably developed a little too much alarm fatigue. So when the fire alarm started blaring through the chalet at 6:30 a.m., my first thought wasn’t, We should evacuate. It was, Is this thing actually real?
Fortunately, it wasn’t.
Unfortunately, we were all awake.
Since sleep was off the table, I grabbed my camera and stepped onto the balcony. The early morning light over the valley was spectacular, and the Matterhorn was putting on a show. If you’re going to get jolted awake by a false alarm, this is about the best view you could ask for.
Just me and the birds at this hour
We walked up to Thyon Resort and found the ski lift called Trabanta which took us to the top of Thyon 2000. The kids were surprisingly brave on the ski lift. For the two youngest, it was their very first time ever getting on—and more importantly, getting off—a chairlift. They handled it far better than I ever did.
I couldn’t help but think about my own two legendary ski lift failures.
The first happened when I was three years old. I don’t remember which ski resort we were at, but I was skiing with my parents. I’d just climbed onto the lift when, apparently, I sat on a patch of ice. As the chair pulled away, my tiny three-year-old body slid right underneath the safety bar.
By nothing short of a miracle, one foot caught on the bottom of the chair, catching my boot strap, leaving me dangling upside down instead of plummeting to the ground below.
My mom later told me there was a retaining wall approaching that I was moments away from colliding with while everyone below frantically tried to get the lift operator’s attention. Somehow the lift was stopped in time, and—if family lore serves me correctly—my dad was able to reach down and haul me back into the chair.
Not exactly the confidence-building ski experience most toddlers have.
Ski Lift Selfies
#1BibSister and I rode together, which turned out to be the perfect pairing. We were equally excited to finally see real Swiss cows up close—the kind with enormous bells hanging around their necks that we’d been hearing long before we ever spotted them. We also share a mutual appreciation for a well-timed selfie, so we managed to capture a few favorites while floating high above the valley.
As we approached the unloading area, however, we noticed the lift had stopped a few chairs ahead of us.
Turns out Amir and #1BigBrother couldn’t get their safety bar to lift, so the operator had to come help them before they could get off. #1LittleSister and Lidia disembarked without incident, and #1BigSister and I stepped off just fine.
So technically…the Louka family ski lift mishap count still belongs entirely to me.
Scooter “bikes” you can rent and ride down
At the top of the mountain, we took a short—but surprisingly steep—trail down to a little mountainside restaurant that looked like something out of a postcard. There were horse stables nearby, a trampoline, a bounce house, a giant bull statue, and panoramic views in every direction.
I ordered the cheese polenta, which was rich, creamy, and absolutely worth the hike.
Cheese PolentaHam & Egg Croute
After brunch, we continued our descent, stopping to finally meet the famous Swiss cows we’d admired from above. Their oversized bells echoed through the valley long before we reached them. Some had impressive curved horns, all were enormous, and surprisingly few seemed interested in staying behind fences. They were calm, friendly, and completely unfazed by a family of American tourists taking far too many pictures.
By this point, everyone was feeling the miles. Several of us had also come to the shared realization that Crocs are wonderful vacation shoes…right up until you decide to hike down a Swiss mountain.
As we reached the bottom near the chairlift, another childhood memory came rushing back—my second ski lift disaster.
Ironically, it had also happened in Switzerland.
I was about eight years old, traveling with my parents, my sister Kristin, and our family friends, the Wrights. It was my very first trip outside the United States. We had come to Switzerland for spring break to ski, and I remember thinking it was the greatest adventure imaginable.
One day, my parents went ahead while Kristin and I lined up for a T-bar lift—the kind that pulls skiers uphill while they remain on the snow. The bar tucks behind you, with one person on each side. In theory, it’s simple.
In reality, it requires both riders to be roughly the same height.
At eight years old and with my teenage sister beside me, we were…not.
Looking back, the contraption resembled equal parts ski equipment and an oversized IUD.
We didn’t make it very far before our balance gave out. As soon as we let go, the T-bar snapped back toward the cable at full speed and smacked me squarely in the back of the head.
Instantly there was blood everywhere.
Let me tell you—bright red blood against fresh white snow is a visual that sticks with you.
Meanwhile, my parents were already well up the mountain, completely oblivious to what had happened.
A kind stranger took off my skis, carried me like a toddler, and skied me all the way down to a small medical clinic. Remember, this was long before cell phones. Kristin and I had no identification, no money, and no way to contact anyone.
As luck would have it, the physician working in that tiny Swiss clinic was an American—from Pensacola, Florida, where we had once lived. We had never met him before, but after hearing our story he simply said, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll send your parents the bill.”
Two weeks after we got home to Virginia, the invoice arrived.
Total amount due: $40.
My dad happily paid it.
Kristin and I somehow found our own way back to the ski lodge, only to discover our parents and the Wrights sitting comfortably by the fire with their boots off, completely unaware that we’d made an unscheduled stop at Swiss urgent care. Looking back as an adult, I’m fairly confident they had enjoyed a drink or two while waiting.
Thankfully, everything turned out just fine.
Back at the chalet, I attempted an afternoon nap, but sleep wasn’t happening. Instead, #1LittleSister convinced me to join her in the hot tub.
I tried explaining that a hot tub is not a swimming pool—it’s more of a sitting pool.
She respectfully disagreed.
Within minutes she was splashing with Olympic-level enthusiasm while I abandoned any hope of relaxation and simply accepted that parenting, much like ski lifts, rarely goes exactly according to plan.
Another 6:30 am win
For dinner, we piled back into the car and made the 30-minute drive down the mountain to the charming village of Evolène, a postcard-perfect Swiss town nestled along the river. Dark wooden chalets lined the streets, each balcony overflowing with colorful flower boxes, while restaurants buzzed with the unmistakable energy of people lingering over good food and good conversation.
Evoléne, Switzerland
We wandered into the first restaurant we came across, Restaurant Au Mazot Chez Raymonde, which, as luck would have it, also happened to be the highest-rated on Google.
Restaurant Au Mazot Chez Raymonde
Stepping inside felt like stepping back in time.
The restaurant is more than 350 years old, complete with its two original stone fireplaces that still anchor the dining room today. The atmosphere was everything you’d hope for in an old Swiss mountain inn: cozy, bustling, a little noisy, delightfully unhurried, with the warmth of the fireplaces filling the room and the unmistakable aroma of melting raclette drifting through the air.
The woman tending the open hearth had worked there her entire life and was dressed in traditional Swiss clothing. Looking around at the centuries-old photographs and drawings hanging on the walls, it was remarkable to see that the women working there today are still wearing essentially the same attire as those who came generations before them.
Behind me at the tablePickled onions, cucumbers and potatoes
Every meal at our table was excellent, but by this point the early 6:30 a.m. fire alarm, the mountain hike, and the fresh alpine air had finally caught up with all of us. We were ready to head back to the chalet, crawl into bed, and recharge for another adventure.
Tomorrow promises to be one of the experiences I’ve been looking forward to most—a special “secret” boat ride that I can’t wait to tell you about.
Until then, it’s time for one last glass of red wine by the fireplace before calling it a night.
This morning, just after we packed up and pointed the van toward our next adventure, I took a poll of everyone’s favorite memories from our time in Spain.
España 🇪🇸 Favorites
Amir: Eating together with family, Lidia’s parents’ 25th anniversary celebration, and the Autol Orchestra concert (will have to add a post on this one).
#1BigBrother: Playing soccer with Daddy and Marta, and the carnival games in Autol.
#1BigSister: Running around the bull ring (without any bulls, thankfully!) and the fireworks on the beach in Peñíscola.
Me:Spain’s World Cup victory, wandering through Park Güell, and the long, leisurely lunches on the patio at the Peñautol casa.
It’s funny how a trip becomes more than the places you visit. Looking at everyone’s answers, almost none of them were monuments or museums. They were moments. Family gathered around a table. A soccer game. Fireworks. Candy. A party. Time together.
Every trip also seems to have a soundtrack, and this one belongs to Superestrella. It was everywhere. We heard it echoing through the streets of Barcelona, spilling out of bars and shops, playing from passing cars, and blasting through the speakers in Autol after Spain’s thrilling World Cup victory. It became the background music to winding mountain roads, afternoons by the pool, and celebrations that seemed to spring up wherever we happened to be.
Gas station flower bouquet for sale
I’m certain that ten years from now, I’ll hear Superestrella somewhere unexpectedly, and in an instant I’ll be transported back here—to the summer heat, the stone streets, the castle overlooking the Mediterranean, the laughter of our kids, and the feeling that, for just a little while, we got to experience Spain not just as tourists, but as honorary members of Lidia’s family.
Adiós, España. Thank you for the memories.
Our flight from Barcelona to Geneva was a quick 90 minutes. For such a short flight, there was a surprising amount of anxiety onboard. The Spanish woman sitting next to me quietly crossed herself at takeoff—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—while another passenger a few rows back experienced a full-blown panic attack, sobbing until we were safely in the air. Amir, a bit closer to her, thought maybe it was less-so fear, and sadness at leaving someone important behind. It was a reminder that something as routine as flying can feel very different depending on who’s in the seat.
Free McMcDonalds with our EasyJet tickets
Our rental car adventure got off to a rocky start. The Renault Espace Alpine we’d reserved online was advertised as a seven-seater, but when we arrived, it only had five actual seats. Amir headed back to the rental desk while the rest of us waited. In the end, the inconvenience worked out in our favor—we were upgraded to a Hyundai Santa Fe that was roomier and far more comfortable for our group and mountain luggage.
Travel tip: if you only need booster seats, don’t automatically rent them from the car company. We paid a painful 300€ for two boosters in Barcelona, only to discover that after landing in Geneva we could buy two brand-new boosters at a nearby baby store for just 30 CHF total (30€). Lesson learned.
That stop also introduced us to one of the smartest parking garage ideas I’ve ever seen. Above every parking space hung a tiny light: green if the space was available, red if it was occupied. No creeping through endless rows hoping someone was about to leave. Such a simple idea, but it made navigating a huge garage—especially in our oversized vehicle—so much easier.
Green/Red lights above parking spaces
Of course, our smooth parking experience ended with a rookie mistake. We drove to the exit gate only to realize we’d completely missed the payment kiosk back inside the mall. With a line of cars already stacked up behind us, backing out wasn’t an option. Without hesitation, Lidia jumped out of the car and sprinted back into the mall like she was running the anchor leg of a relay race. About 90 seconds later she came flying back with the paid ticket in hand, and we were on our way.
What amazed me most wasn’t Lidia’s speed—it was everyone else’s patience. Not a single horn. No angry gestures. Instead, the drivers behind us got out of their cars to see if they could help. Apparently we’re not the first tourists to miss the payment kiosk; while we were waiting, we watched three other cars make the exact same mistake. Somehow that made our beginner’s blunder a little less embarrassing.
The drive to Les Collons was exquisite. We embraced the journey Griswold-style, stopping at a roadside rest area to stock up on Swiss cheese and chocolate before cueing up The Sound of Music as our soundtrack. It felt perfectly fitting as we wound through lush green valleys with the Alps towering above us.
As we drove, the valley was a patchwork of summer color and agriculture. Fields of bright yellow sunflowers stretched toward the mountains, while orchards laden with apples and apricots dotted the landscape. Lavender added ribbons of purple to the hillsides, making the scenery look almost too perfect to be real.
About 45 minutes from our destination, the drive took a dramatic turn—literally. We began the steep ascent up the mountain, and “treacherous” is the only word that comes to mind. It reminded me so much of our drive in Crete. Apparently guardrails are optional here. Motorcycles came flying downhill at what felt like top speed, horses wandered into the roadway, and the roads themselves were somehow both two-way and barely wide enough for a single vehicle. Every blind curve felt like a leap of faith.
Thankfully, with Amir behind the wheel, we made it to the top without incident.
After a quick stop to check out our beautiful chalet for the week, we headed to La Luge, a cozy Italian restaurant perched near the top of the mountain, for dinner. It was the perfect way to end our first day in the Swiss Alps.
Pizza with anchovies, capers and mozzarella
We still haven’t settled on tomorrow’s adventure, but it will likely involve some combination of gondolas, castles, hiking, and packing an extra layer or two. After nearly two weeks of Spanish summer heat, the crisp mountain air is a welcome change. The days are pleasantly cool, hovering around 70°F, while the evenings dip into the low 50s. I have a feeling this little corner of Switzerland is going to be hard to leave.
TeamLouka 