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Most hotels here provide a pickup service since no vehicles are allowed in the village—an interesting tidbit I learned when I picked Zermatt. I love the fact they prioritize nature and the environment, and make efforts to be eco-friendly.

Strolling to an empty spot, I pull out my phone, scroll to my contacts, and search for the hotel’s reception number. I had messaged them when I landed to let them know I’ll be arriving in Zermatt in a couple of hours.

It rings thrice before they answer, “Matterhorn Lodge, how may I help you?”

“Hi, it’s Twinkle,” I reply, hearing chatter in the background. “I wanted to know if the driver is here to pick me up?”

“Miss Twinkle, yes. The driver is waiting outside. I’ll text you his number.”

“Thank you.”

“We look forward to seeing you soon.”

After thanking her, I hang up the phone and wait for her text. It comes quickly and I immediately call the driver while rolling my luggage outside. I take in my surroundings, impressed with the infrastructure and the ambience.

From every corner, I’m able to see the snowy hills. Appearing as though they’re kissing the sky, alight with stars.

“Miss Twinkle?” a voice calls out in a thick German accent. I’m surprised I’m able to recognize my name.

I glance up at a middle-aged man a few feet away from me standing beside a blue electric taxi. I wave at him and he closes the gap with a polite smile.

“Welcome to Zermatt,” he greets. “Here, let me take the luggage.”

“Thank you. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting for long.”

We stroll toward the taxi, and he answers, “Not at all. I arrived ten minutes ago.”

“How far is the hotel?” I ask as he opens the trunk and puts my suitcase inside.

“Twenty minutes.” He gets behind the wheel while I sit in the back seat. “It’s a very beautiful location. You can see the Matterhorn as well as half of the town, which is especially stunning at night.”

“I can’t wait to see.”

As he drives down the smooth and inclined roads, he keeps me entertained with stories and facts about the littlevillage, pointing out the must-see spots, the small shops, and best places for dining out.

Another interesting tradition I learned about is theAdventsfenster,where the local residents and shops decorate their windows in a holiday theme as a twenty-four-day countdown to Christmas Day. The windows stay closed until the day of the reveal, after all the families gather to watch the big show. It sounds so wholesome and amazing.

These little things are what makes me feel nostalgic. The feeling of togetherness and love and bonding. I hardly ever speak to my parents unless I’m the one who is calling them, which I only did on holidays. I’ve even stopped that now.

The saddest part—they haven’t once called back.

I brush the painful feeling away and focus on my driver’s jovial voice.

“You’ve arrived just in time because the final window will be opening tonight around midnight. If you aren’t jet-lagged, you must see it.”

“Sounds wonderful,” I reply excitedly. “I’ll definitely check it out.”

He smiles through the rearview mirror and we drive for another ten minutes before reaching the resort. I’ve booked one of the cabins. I’m praying it’s exactly like the pictures I saw and has a big hot tub, as mentioned on their site. Honestly, they have so many amazing amenities that I wouldn’t get bored if I decided to stay in.

Of course, I’m not going to do that.

My driver parks the car and gets out to unload my luggage. I step out into the snow-covered ground and let out a loud gasp as my stomach bottoms out. Hot air blows past my parted lips as I gaze at the eye-catching view.

The resort is indeed in a heavenly location.

I can see the shadows of the large mountains surrounding the small village. It’s as though I’ve landed in a fairytale movie. For a second, I completely forget about the cold and simply inhale the crisp evening air.

Basking it in for long moments, I finally walk down the gravel path cleared of snow toward the front desk inside. The brightly lit lobby is filled with a few lingering guests. A couple is talking to the receptionist. A porter carrying another guest’s suitcases to the elevator in a far corner.