The Alpine Charm of St. Moritz
Who or what is Segantini? A breed of Swiss cow or an Italian cheese? The coded message was clearly prepared by an idiot with a university education... Stirlitz winced, ate a few chocolates of the famous brand «Sprungli», and finished his coffee. God, having to go all the way to St. Moritz because of that dimwit pastor! Half an hour by plane or about three hours by bus right from the Zurich train station. And how he wanted to stroll along Bahnhofstrasse, buy a couple of Swiss watches, dip croutons in melted cheese (fondue), and wash it all down with pork knuckle and draft beer.
But no! Duty above all! Past the monument to Pestalozzi, across the fabulously picturesque river Limmat, quickly to Spiegelgasse, 14 – to pay homage to the house where until 1917 Ilyich lived with Nadezhda Konstantinovna! And what a memorial plaque these Swiss gnomes came up with: «To the Führer of the Russian Revolution», couldn't find another word, the bastards! Don't linger, don't turn your head, no emotions – what if Müller is behind! – on foot to the bus.
The route went through tunnels, along magnificent winding roads, with stops at cafes hidden among snow-dusted pines. «Cursed spy work!» thought Stirlitz. «Now I'd take old Dynamo skis and with radio operator Kat dash here for at least a week. But here this slacker pastor stole a new decryptor from the Germans and doesn't know how to get it to us!»
St. Moritz is located at an altitude of 1,800 meters among huge snow-covered mountains almost next to the Italian border. It is considered the most prestigious and expensive ski resort in Switzerland and, probably, in all of Europe. The winter tourist season usually starts in mid-December, when everything is reliably covered with snow, and lasts until March. These bountiful Alpine lands are called the «Roof of Europe»; the sun shines dazzlingly there 332 days a year.
The most fashionable area in St. Moritz is rightfully considered Suvretta, where Berlusconi, Rothschild, and many powerful people of this world sip vintage wines in their own villas. Publicity is not welcome here, but it is known that some stars rent luxury suites in classy hotels year-round. And the most advanced companies bring their employees here entire offices at once, and then the main thing in local establishments becomes the host of corporate events, hired specifically for the occasion.
«Too bad I never learned to ski, always work, work!» thought Stirlitz, looking enviously at the ski lifts on both sides of the road.
St. Moritz is the heart of a vast organism; from here you can take a chairlift or cable car up to Corvatsh (3,451 meters), Furischellas (2,331), Nair (3,052), Corviglia (2,488), Diavolezza (2,978), and a host of other peaks. No problems with lessons, ski equipment rental, everywhere stylish restaurants with Alpine cuisine. By the way, St. Moritz has twice been the site of the Winter Olympics; world championships in skiing and especially bobsleigh are held here (the next competitions are scheduled for 2001 and 2003). Bobsleigh in St. Moritz is a unique phenomenon: 30 world championships have taken place here, and unlike tracks in other countries, the ice here is natural.
At KGB school they didn't teach bobsleigh; Stirlitz sighed – he so wanted to zoom along with a whistle in the frost. Naturally, in Zvenigorod, the Moscow region's Switzerland. True, in St. Moritz for those who hadn't undergone training, there were bobsleigh taxis driven by drivers. Eh, if only it weren't for the meeting with the pastor...
Want to play croquet on the ice of a scenic lake? You're welcome! Want to slide stones on the ice playing Scottish curling? Please! For men only: toboggan, in a protective helmet, belly on a metal sled – and at a wild speed down the ice! On the frozen lake of St. Moritz, horse races are held, and bets are substantial, and dog racing is also in great honor here, and nearby in Silvaplana annual winter golf tournaments take place.
And what a pleasure to ride the mountain railway! Picturesque, toy-like trains either crawl or run among the white giants. The railway connects high-altitude points; from St. Moritz you can cross the Alps via viaducts and tunnels, from north to south, like migratory birds, first to the eternal ice of the glacier all the way to Alp Grum, then to Poschiavo and via the curved viaducts of Brusio into the warm lowlands of Tirano (438 m) and Lugano (378 m). No less beautiful is the route to Zermatt (1,604 m): from the window you can see medieval castles and monasteries, paths where Romans once roamed, glaciers and eternal snow again... If to this bouquet of pleasures you add an exquisite dinner with decent Swiss wine, local cheese, and a Dutch cigar under the care of a good-natured waiter in national costume, then the trip can be considered a visit to paradise.
«Perhaps I should bring my wife and children here,» thought Stirlitz, «one son is already 7, the other 5 years old; after all, if they get fussy, there's a wonderful club hotel for kids, they'll be looked after. (Here he remembered the joke that he hadn't seen his wife for 10 years, and became very upset.) Oh, to hell with them! Both the boring Kat, always busy with her transmitter, and the weepy wife, and all women in general! I'll make the meeting with the pastor, and then I'll rent an old Swiss sleigh with well-groomed horses and a coachman, or go horseback riding, like in my youth back in my village!»
But here is the St. Moritz stop, time to get off. Where is the meeting place – the Segantini cheese museum? There it is! True, Segantini turned out to be a great Italian painter, but that doesn't change anything. There shuffles that old ass – Pastor Schlag, only not in a knitted cap, but in a budenovka – he always has trouble with conspiracy! A huge backpack on his back, skis in a case... Good health the old man has, if only he worked like me at Lubyanka...
- How far is it to the Soglio hotel? – asked Stirlitz.
- Maxim Maximovich, my bosom friend, how glad I am to see you!
- Why isn't the recognition sign according to the password?! Are you breaking conspiracy again?
- Don't be angry, old chap! Look what a decoder I've brought you! I swiped it from the Gestapo the other day... And you're wrong about secrecy: for a cover story I brought skis with me, and knowing that you'd be too lazy to take care of your own cover, I brought another pair for you!
- What, we're going to ski from these peaks on ordinary skis?! – Stirlitz was frightened.
- Ah, old chap, you don't know the local intelligence and operational situation well! After all, excellent marathon ski trails are laid across the ice of Lake St. Moritz, it's much better than in your Podrezkovo! And we'll discuss the plan to kill Hitler on the 'Philosophers' Trail', located on the high mountain plateau Muottas Muragl, where quotes from Socrates and Sartre are carved in stone... If you don't want to go up there, we can take a walk right from here: past the famous Heidi House to Salastrains! It's an hour and a half round trip! By the way, we can also whisper in the library...
At the word 'library', Stirlitz felt sick: after all, he hadn't touched a single book since high school.
- You know, Pastor, let's go to the local casino, it's famous throughout Switzerland. But first to the bar – to drink to our victory...
- Which hotel will we stay at? 'Albana'? 'Schweizerhof'? 'Carlton'?
Stirlitz remained silent: he knew that the Center would rather strangle itself than authorize travel expenses over $20 a day.
- Switzerland is not nearly as expensive a country as it is painted, – Pastor Schlag read the spy's thoughts. – Here you can easily rent a double room starting from $60.
Stirlitz silently proceeded to the bar. As usual, he took out a bottle of Moskovskaya, two shot glasses, Atlantic herring (lightly salted), wrapped in a Pravda newspaper. A waiter approached, and for the cover story he had to order a mug of beer each as a 'decoy'.