My Top Ten Experiences of 2023
I started drafting this post in early December. Quite optimistically, this was the first line I wrote: “It’s a miracle - I’m publishing this post before the end of the year!”
Unfortunately, it seems as though my manifestation skills still need some work. What’s that they say about best laid plans? Oh, well. We’re only two weeks into the new year, so I think I can still post a 2023 wrap-up without raising too many eyebrows.
As always, this post is a long one, and so as always, I am forgoing a long introduction. However, a brief note: For the past 4 years, I focused my year-in-review blog post specifically on Swiss experiences. That made a lot of sense, especially for our first few years here. But now that I have lived here for half a decade (!), I’m changing my own rules. Any moment, in any country, is valid for inclusion. It is so ordered (gavel strike).
And so with that, here we are: my 10 favorite experiences of 2023.
1. My little sister visits!
Kicking off the year was a visit from my little sister and brother-in-law in January. Arianna had visited once before, so while she had already gotten a taste of Switzerland in the summertime, it was especially fun to introduce these two Californians to a Swiss winter.
Remarkably, it snowed right before they arrived, which - as we remember all too well - was a sadly rare occurrence in 2023. This good luck from the weather gods meant we were able to do all the fun snowy things with them that I had hoped for: snowshoeing, winter walking, sledging (see point #2); as well as all the fun Swiss things that are just better in the snow: fondue, raclette, riding trains through the mountains and marveling at the flocked trees and how every village looks like the inside of a snowglobe. We all had so much fun!
They even had fun when we took them out on their first ever snowshoe, on what turned out to be a more-difficult-than-anticipated trail (whoops, that was my bad!), on a colder-than-anticipated day that dumped snow (MeteoSwiss is to blame for that one), with lunch at a very unexpected Swiss “hut” (the “hut” in quotations because it was not, in fact, one of the traditionally cozy alpine huts that I anticipated, and described - with gusto - on the entire hike up, but a barn. As in, where the cows stay in the summer. It was a barn converted to a very basic winter stübli serving bratwurst and glühwein, but an unheated barn nonetheless). Definitely an excursion they won’t forget soon!
Anyway, they are the best, and I can’t wait for them to visit again!
2. Surviving sledging
Growing up, sledding was simply walking up a small hill, sliding down on a plastic saucer, and then doing it over and over again. Swiss sledding is…not that.
First of all, it’s called sledging here, which, in my opinion, sounds appropriately more hardcore for an activity that involves rocketing down an actual mountain on a wooden mini-sleigh while trying not to careen off the edge or break your ankle. Swiss sledging is high-speed, full of twists and turns, and is definitely not just for kids. There are sledge runs that are literally miles (!) long. I recently read this article in the New York Times, and laughed at the headline, which may sound hyperbolic to the uninitiated, but is actually extremely accurate: “Teetering between Joy and Terror: Extreme Sledding in the Swiss Alps.”
Sledge runs are found all over Switzerland, and even though we had been wanting to try it ever since we moved here, both Raunaq and I were a little too intimidated to go ourselves. That is, until my sister visited, and I decided that since we had already scarred her with snowshoeing in a blizzard, we might as well continue the winter baptism with some extreme sledding.
I picked a spot close to Zurich called Kerenzerberg, which has a 7km/4.5 mile beginner slope and cheap half-day chairlift tickets that allowed for unlimited sledding.
We took a 20-minute ride on the self-proclaimed “slowest chairlift in Switzerland” to the mountain station at the top. My sister, finally seeing what we were actually going to do, was nervous - we all were! - but Raunaq and I had no advice to give. It was the blind leading the blind. After getting our rental sleds, we studied the people who went flying down before us, in a last-minute attempt to gauge any sort of technique that would possibly help us not die. But finally, we threw caution to the wind, put on our brave faces, boarded our sleds, and headed off.
And guys. What a thrill! What. A. THRILL.
It’s so fun! And so scary! But so fun! It’s truly wild to me that this can be considered a children’s activity. The Kerenzerberg toboggan run is considered an easy, family-friendly run, and while there were no big cliff drop-offs, you can gain some serious speed if you don’t ride the brakes (aka, your feet. Your feet are the brakes. Hence the chance of broken ankles) the whole way down. Threat of broken bones aside, sledging is a joy. After the first run, we all nearly ran back to the chairlift to ride up and do it again. I never figured out how to properly steer, but I also never went flying off the mountainside or crashed into anyone else, so I’m considering that a win. For the second round, Arianna gave up on steering entirely, and climbed on the back of her husband’s sled to ride tandem. But at the end of the day, everyone was tired-happy from scream-laughing all afternoon, and I was internally elated that no one broke a bone on my watch. Success!
Although, my poor sister flinches every time someone mentions “sledding” to her now, so maybe we didn’t all escape unscathed after all.
In all seriousness, the Kerenzerberg run really is great for beginners, and I would definitely go back. I loved that it was long (it covers about 750 meters of descent, and takes about 45 minutes to travel from top to bottom), and that the route wasn’t shared with hikers or skiers (yes, some sledge trails are multi-use 😳). And the gorgeous views of Walensee and the Churfisten mountains are a huge bonus. That is, if you can actually enjoy them while scream-laughing at the top of your lungs.
3. A Klosters anniversary
Raunaq and I have celebrated every wedding anniversary with a weekend somewhere in Switzerland. Obsessed as we have both become with cross-country skiing, for the last few years, we’ve chosen towns or regions that have a wide selection of langlauf trails. This year, for our fifth anniversary, we went to Klosters.
Klosters is part of the Davos-Klosters region, and while lots of people flock to the more famous Davos, I prefer Klosters. It’s quieter and cozier, and the village is steps away from the start of numerous cross-country routes. The routes themselves are beautiful, running along rivers and through forests, with the mountains in the background. And because cross-country skiing isn’t an all-day type of sport, that meant there was lots of time to enjoy another favorite winter activities, sauna. Which all together makes for a perfect anniversary weekend, in both of our opinions. And which, come to think of it, is kind of crazy to say, considering that five years ago, neither of us liked any winter activities at all. Look at us now! What a journey for us!
One thing Klosters is not great at? Giving any information on the difficulty of all these wonderful cross-country trails. We got a map from our hotel, but the trails were only marked by their distance, not by their elevation gains and losses - which is where the real difficulty lies. Tackling hilly terrain on cross-country skis is tough. And while we managed for most of the weekend just fine, there was one trail in particular that gave both of us, but mainly my dear sweet husband, a bit of trouble. The trail started with a consistent, but gradual climb along the river, but as we looped around to head back to the village on an upper trail, we started seeing ominous yellow signs: “Caution: STEEP slopes ahead.” I had never seen a sign like that on a cross-country trail, and figured, ‘Well really, how steep could it be?” Well, indeed.
These slopes were steeper than downhill ski pistes. With my skate-style skis, I was able to snowplow, and while it was awkward and certainly not graceful, I could at least control my speed down the steepest grades. Raunaq, a classic-style skier, wasn’t so lucky. Because he needed to keep his skis fitted into the grooves of the classic parallel tracks, he wasn’t able to easily brake. He went flying. Photos below for the aftermath from a particularly snowy faceplant. We later saw that this trail was nicknamed the “Roller Coaster” and now, we understand why.
But, as always, he was a great sport. Happy anniversary honey!
4. A Grecian holiday
We spent a week in Greece during the Easter holidays. Theoretically, this was meant to serve as a warm seaside escape from the rainy Swiss spring, but alas, Greece was hit with their one-week “winter” right when we arrived. Travel in the shoulder season, they say. But cold temperatures aside, it was such a fun trip. We based ourselves in Athens, and split time between exploring the city and taking day trips.
My friend had told me that Athens feels a bit like Rome, and I completely agree. Athens is a vibrant, chaotic, tangle of streets built up around thousands-year-old ruins, creating a city that is equally modern and ancient. And, also like Rome, there are lots of cats! There’s so much to explore: The narrow alleys and bougainvillea-strewn stairways of Plaka, the rooftops in Monastiraki, the local tavernas in Mets, the history everywhere, the iconic Acropolis towering above the city - we could have easily dedicated the whole week to Athens alone.
But we also rented a car and braved (well, Raunaq braved) the Greek roads for some trips outside the city. We took a slow drive down to Cape Sounion to see the Temple of Poseidon at sunset, and then headed west to the Peloponnese to see pretty Npfalio and the Palamidi fortress, and explored the grounds of Ancient and AcroCorinth. A high-speed ferry also took us to the island of Hydra for the day, where we took a dip in the unseasonably chilly Aegean Sea (perhaps preparing me for number 9 on this list?).
And of course, I can’t forget the cuisine. I ate tzatziki every single day, and loved how every place prepared it slightly differently. Freddo espressos were a revelation. Loukoumades - yum. Halloumi pitas - YUM. But the real core food memory for me had to be the phyllo-wrapped oven-baked feta with honey I ate one evening, complete with a view of the illuminated Acropolis.
I’d love to go back and see more of the country, particularly more of mainland Greece. It’s definitely one of those countries where we just barely scratched the surface.
P.S. We took this trip while I was training for the half, so I also did a few runs at the Panathenaic Stadium - first built in marble in 144 A.D. and the site of the modern Olympic games! Only in Greece.
5. Running the Zürich half-marathon
And speaking of running - I ran my first half-marathon this April! This has been on my bucket list for a while, so: CHECK.
I written before about how I’ve fallen in love with running over the past few years. I ran my first 10k last year, and run pretty regularly. But this was the first time I have ever trained for anything in my adult life, and I found that I enjoyed the whole process. I loved the different types of running workouts, loved learning about heart rates and recovery and strength training, loved seeing the slow but steady progress week after week. I was especially proud of myself for completing every single one of my runs outside, no matter the weather (but not without some complaining, as Raunaq is surely remembering as he reads this. I’m only human!).
The morning of the half-marathon, I was full of nervous excitement. I had a time goal in mind, but moreover, I just wanted to enjoy myself and finish strong. And that I did. The whole day was full of good energy. The morning was rainy, but the skies cleared up by the start of the race. By the afternoon, it was hot - the hottest day of the year, in fact. The course itself was absolutely beautiful, and I couldn’t help but think what a privilege it was to run through this city that I love so much. And the collective joy and accomplishment flowing through thousands of people created the most contagious runner’s high I’ve ever experienced. Pretty much the second I finished, I knew I wanted to do another one. The addiction is real.
P.S. That picture is the ONLY professional picture of me that looks I’m actually running - and of course, in true Alex fashion, my eyes are closed.
6. The summer of huts!
If 2021 was the summer of rain, and 2022 was the summer of hiking, then 2023 was officially the summer of huts! I was a little (a lot) jealous of Raunaq’s sabbatical summer last year, particularly all of his great hut experiences. I’d only stayed in a handful of huts, and was chomping at the bit for more. This summer, I decided, was going to be the summer of huts! If you peaked in our office at any given evening in April or May, chances were high that you’d find me at my computer, pouring over the SAC hut portal and making reservations for every free weekend.
I’ll admit, it was a little extreme.
But there is just so much to love about Swiss hut life!
You hike for hours, then arrive at a cute house in the middle of the mountains with cold beer and hearty home-cooked meals and warm dorm beds and communal Crocs. Everyone is cheery and social, with that slight touch of delirium you get from spending a long active day outside. Sometimes you get lucky with an extraordinary sunset, and on a clear night, you can see the Milky Way. Swiss huts are just like the hostels of my youth, except everyone is asleep by 10pm and up with the sun for the next day’s adventure. So, even better! You’re never going to get the best sleep of your life in a hut, and you probably won’t be smelling that great, but hey, neither is anyone else. We’re all in this together.
And I mean that literally. You should see some of the sleeping arrangements. The classic dormitories are essentially one large mattress, with pillows at the head and folded blankets at the foot of each marked sleeping spot, capable of sleeping 6, 8, 12, or even more people. Prepare to get quite cozy with your neighbors. It’s all part of the experience!
Staying in mountain huts is one of my very favorite Swiss activities, and I’m so happy to have been able to visit so many this summer.
We started hut season off strong in May with Capanna Alzasca, the sweetest little blue-and-white shuttered stone hut that you ever did, see run by the sweetest two ladies that you ever did meet. Then, it was on to Salbithütte, Carshinahütte, Sardonahütte, Capanna Campo Tencia, and Chammana da Greitaslch. Unpredictable weather and illness meant that I had to cancel a few of the huts and treks that had been high on my list (I’m looking at you, Turtmannhütte, Capanna Scaletta and Cabane des Dix), but that just means that we have lots to look forward to in summer 2024.
And the highlight of the summer of huts? Introducing visiting U.S. friends to hut life! Isn’t is the greatest to share a beloved experience with others?!
7. All the fests!
This is a “catch-all” category, which makes me think I’m cheating a little bit - but this year was full of all types of festivals and I simply cannot just choose one. So here is a random sampling:
Züri-Fascht: Züri-Fascht is a massive, city-wide, once-every-three-year, three-day party. It takes over the entire city, and kind of needs to be seen to be believed. 2 million people attended, which, for a city of 400,000, is insane. It is fun, I really do enjoy it, but in order to survive, I have to employ Vegas rules: 48 hours max, and then escape the city.
I also zip-lined over the Limmat. Overpriced? Yes? A 2-hour wait? Yes? Worth it? YES.
Zürich Open Air (ZOA): “Open airs,” aka outdoor musical festivals, are quintessential Swiss summer experiences. We had never been, but this summer finally got tickets one day of ZOA because Florence and the Machine was headlining - only to have Florence cancel the day before. The ZOA organizers completely dropped the ball, and ended up filling Florence’s slot with a German singer-songwriter who had never played an international concert before. Just a minor difference. But headliner disappointments aside, it was still fun to go! We discovered a new DJ (Bedouin!) in the dance tent, Raunaq accidentally dressed like Hunter S. Thompson, and we did not get struck by lightning from the passing thunderstorms. All in all, a memorable first time at ZOA.
Wollishofen Open Air: No canceled headliners at this Open Air, just good beats and better times. This was such a fun local concert, and just made me love our little neighborhood even more. And check out Raunaq reppin’ the 8038.
Entlebuch Alpazug: I’m not sure what my favorite part of the Entlebucher Alpine festival I loved more - the gorgeous cows in their gorgeous flower crowns, the alpenhorn and yodeling performances, or the hitchhiking bachelorette party that we picked up after. Believe it or not, this was NOT the first bachelor/ette party we’ve seen at an Alpabzug, but it was the first that we drove to a brewery after ;)
Oktoberfest: The biggest ‘fest of them all. It was somehow both crazier and calmer than I expected. The beer only comes in liter-sized mugs, it is 1% stronger than normal, and is extra-fun to drink while standing on benches. Luckily, in my wise old age, I know how to (reasonably) pace myself, so I did not end up lying on the famous grassy knoll with the other inebriated. Augustiner-Bräu is my favorite German beer, so unsurprisingly, it was also my favorite beerhall of the bunch!
8. Vietnam
In November, Raunaq and I went to Vietnam for three weeks - and I don’t know where to begin. Vietnam could have taken up all ten of this list. The people, the landscapes, the food, the motorbikes, the coffee, the coconuts! Trying to sum up our time there in a few paragraphs truly feels like a disservice, but I’ll do my best (and rely heavily on photos). I often say this, but I promise, I will dedicate new blog posts to our trip.
We kept our schedule loose and flexible, planning things as we went, and we ended up traveling through four major areas of the North:
HANOI
Hanoi certainly deserves to be considered one of the great food cities of the world, and it’s hands-down where we ate best on our trip. There is lots to see and do, but the real experience is dodging the motorbikes, wandering the alleys, and pulling up a plastic stool to whatever stand looks delicious (and probably Michelin-starred). The bia hoi culture - super cheap fresh beer served streetside - was also more vibrant here than anywhere else. Hanoi may well be one of my favorite big cities.
HÀ GIANG
The Hà Giang loop - four days on a motorcycle through the mountainous northwest of Vietnam - was the highlight of the entire trip. We booked a tour, and Raunaq and I took the “Easyrider” option (aka pillion, or riding behind a driver), so we could be free to just enjoy the views. Our drivers were speedy and excellent - and, they were BFFs and always drove side by side. The scenery in this province is just remarkable: limestone mountains, canyons, rivers, rice paddies, all dotted by small villages of the many different ethnic minorities that live in the region. It was an unforgettable experience.
Although, after four days on the back of a bike, I’m not sure my bum will ever recover.
CÁT BÀ & LAN HA BAY
The 12-hour sleeper bus from Hà Giang to Cat Ba might have left me slightly traumatized, but it was worth it to spend a few days on this island. We came to Cat Ba to cruise the famous, karst-studded Lan Ha and Ha Long Bay (which was absolutely gorgeous, as advertised!), but ended up enjoying all this backpacker-y spot had to offer. Since I was now a pillion pro, we rented a motorbike and zipped around the island, exploring caves, hiking in the interior forest, and generally just enjoying the (slightly) slower island pace.
NINH BÌNH
The region of Ninh Binh is nicknamed “Ha Long Bay on land.” It’s full of mossy pagodas built into caves, jungle-covered karsts, and emerald rivers with floating lotus flowers. If that sounds surreal and ethereal, I promise, it’s even moreso in person. We stayed in the village of Tràng An at the most delightful homestay run by the sweetest family, and I didn’t want to leave.
On most trips, any one of these regions would be a travel highlight, but wow - North Vietnam has rich pickings. This was my first time in SE Asia, and it has set a very high bar for trips to come!
9. Cold water immersion
Every October, like clockwork, I turn to Raunaq and say “this year, I’m going to try cold water swimming.” And then after that grand statement, I promptly make every excuse in the book to not swim until summer. But this year! This year, it was time. So when I turned to Raunaq, said “let’s swim,” and received the customary disbelieving look back, I stubbornly grabbed my swimsuit and marched myself down to the lake.
Granted, this very first swim was in the fall, when the sun was still shining and the water was still 15 degrees Celsius (about 60 degrees Fahrenheit for my American friends). 15 degrees is not warm by any means, but that is downright balmy for cold exposure standards. Even so, it was a pleasantly refreshing way to ease myself into the concept.
Since then, I’ve gone down to the lake every weekend we’ve been in Zürich, and I’ve even wrangled Raunaq into joining me. The water temperature has steadily dropped, but the lower it drops, the more resolve I have to continue. In mid-December, on a windy and gray Sunday, the water temp was 7 degrees C (44 degrees F), and yes, it was challenging, and oof, did it burn, and sure, I only lasted three minutes, so it was less a swim and more a “grit my teeth and cling to the railing” session. But it’s invigorating, and I’m totally invested.
Moreover, it’s just fun to be a part of Zürich’s little “cold” community. There’s always been a small group of people out there with us at the Mythenquai Badi, all of us stripping down and shivering together, while onlookers in puffy coats and slightly incredulous looks gather to watch on the shore. And of course, the golden rule of Switzerland applies: there is always someone doing something more extreme than you. While most of us are just trying to calmly breathe through a static three-minute plunge, there have been other folks casually freestyling like it’s the middle of summer.
Everyone who does this has a “why.” I mean, I do think it’s a fun challenge. Of course, there are the purported physical benefits of cold exposure that I more or less buy into. And I truly do feel great after. But for me, the real benefit is in the mental work. I’ve found that forcing my body into a state of shock, and then breathing through that shock, is helping me cultivate some necessary mindful practices. It’s part of a larger investment I’m trying to make in my mental health, and I think it’s helping. In any case, once I get out of the water, I feel invincible, strong enough to take whatever the world throws at me that day.
I know that all things cold plunge are trending right now, so apologies for having become one of “those” people constantly talking about how great it is, but…I gotta say: It is. Come on in! The water’s fine!
10. Not one, not two, but three California trips!
Lucky me, I got to visit home (San Diego) three times this year. Each trip was special in a different way.
In February, I tagged on a quick few days after a work trip to Seattle. I’m rarely in the US this time of year, so the fact that I was home during both my mom and my niece’s birthday was really a treat. My niece’s birthday was extra special as it was her 10th (the big double-digit birthday!), and my whole family went to Disneyland to celebrate the occasion.
P.S. Splash Mountain is…splashier (!)….than I remembered. We got soaked!
In the summer, I decided to take a full week of vacation in San Diego. I normally work remotely during my trips home. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever taken longer than a day or two of true vacation time in San Diego since we’ve lived in Switzerland. This has often made these trips more stressful than they need to be. I either feel like I’m not working enough, or I’m working too much and not taking advantage of the limited time with friends and family. A full week of holiday was incredible. I had time for the beach/parks/pools/museums with my sister’s kids, time for dinners with my parents, time for movie nights with my sisters, time to make longer trips to see friends who lived further away, time for quiet nights in to recharge - I could do it all. And, most importantly, I could do it all without feeling guilty (mostly). It was one of the most enjoyable and fulfilling trips home I’ve had in a long time.
And finally, my last trip of the year was home for the holidays, this time with Raunaq in tow. My family does Christmas in a big big way, and I love to be back home for it. It was a loud and crazy and jam-packed two weeks, but all up, a fun and loved-filled end to 2023.
Three trips home also meant three sets of goodbyes. And all these trips remind me that my home is lots of different places, with lots of different people. They remind me that no matter where I live, I’ll always miss something or someone. My heart will never belong to just one place. That’s the life I’ve chosen, and the life I love, but it’s the life of many goodbyes that never any easier.
It wasn’t necessarily homesickness - but something about all those goodbyes hit me harder than normal this year. I wonder if it’s because we’re at the five-year mark in Switzerland. We’re far past the point of “let’s just move to Europe for a few years and see how it is!” We’re at the point of applying for C permits and mortgages, the point where people stop asking, “When are you moving back?!” because they know we are not, at least, not anytime soon. It is a comfort, this feeling of establishment - but also means accepting the inevitability of simply being far away from people I love. Oof. Emotions are complicated!
I think Pooh sums up this feeling best: “How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.”- A.A. Milne (Winnie-the-Pooh).
Honorable mentions: Because once I start writing, I can never narrow it down.
Hiking to and being humbled by the Aletsch Glacier, the biggest glacier in the Alps.
Related, all of my 2023 non-hut hikes: For the first time, I failed to document all my summer trails on my blog this year, but rest assured, it was a good season.
Also related, discovering many new turquoise alpine lakes, like: Klontalersee, Partnunsee, Gigerwaldsee, and Goscheralpsee
Golden larch hiking in the Lower Engadin: Every year, I wonder if I’m making too big of a deal about larches in the fall, and then I see them again, and know that seeing them could never be too big of a deal.
Getting back into roped climbing: Last year, I started bouldering again. This year, I started top-rope climbing again. And for 2024…stay tuned!
A weekend trip to Colmar, France, a village truly too picturesque for words, and Baden-Baden, Germany, the spa city so nice they named it twice. But seriously - the spa is so nice!
Eating an inordinate amount of dumplings during an eight hour layover in Hong Kong
Arriving back in Zürich in early December just in time for the first (and only) big snow of the year!
Whew. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Congratulations if you made it all the way through that beast. These posts get longer and longer every year. I start with every intention of being succinct, but once I get typing, I realize I have so much to reflect on. I think that the length of my year-end posts are inversely proportional to the amount of writing I do in that year. And while this year was great for a lot of reasons, one thing it was not great for? My writing. I only published two original posts this year, and both of them were year-end summaries (yes, I wrote my 2022 post in March 2023 😬). I have quite a few things I want to accomplish this year, but I’m determined to not leave this blog by the wayside in the process.
This post is also too long for a lengthy conclusion, so I’ll leave it at that for now. Thank you for reading this one, especially because it’s less about my Swiss life, and more about my regular life. I’m not sure what this next year will bring, but I’m looking forward to finding out.
