We arrived in Lauterbrunnen with a spreadsheet. Three summits, two lakes and a chocolate museum, all in thirty-six hours.
Then we walked out of the station and stopped talking.
There is a moment on the valley path, somewhere between the Staubbach Falls and the second bend, where the cliffs close in and the noise of the water is the only thing left. We cancelled the afternoon. We cancelled the next morning too.
We have travelled differently ever since. Fewer things. Longer at each of them. It turns out the memories are never in the itinerary — they are in the hour you did not plan.
