I mentioned a while ago that Wengen is not in modern times at least a resort for the rich and famous. There is the occasional exception though and one of those exceptions is the author John Le Carre.
Not only does he visit Wengen, he has a home here as well. I am sure that one of the great espionage writers of all time, and a one time member of the Secret Intelligence Service to boot, values his privacy as much, if not more, than the next person. So all I can say is that the following photograph was taken close to the Le Carre chalet.
He did set one of his books in Wengen partly – Our Kind of Traitor – which I enjoyed because it was all so familiar. However, it wasn’t like his early books, which capture the melancholy and dowdiness of the mid-twentieth century, both in the U.K. and abroad. Those first few books are as much social history as spy stories.
Back in twenty first century Wengen, today was a tale of two mountains. On Mannlichen, it was the best of times with great snow sparkling in the sun. On Scheidegg, it was the worst of times, with the foehn blowing fast and furious and black cloud obscuring the Eiger. Key lifts closed at key times and the whole day was less than it might have been.
A windy, awkward sort of day brought 10,406 vertical metres in 22 lift rides.
Idle thoughts from a mountain 