High in the Emmental Alps, off the Glaubenbielen Pass, Rita and Wisi Enz run a small summer farm called Egghüttä. It’s a modest affair surrounded by clichés: towering peaks and lazy cows. I wandered in and Rita fed me a cheesy noodle dish called älplermagronen. As they do with all guests, that night, they led me to a loft where I slept swaddled in wool blankets on a bed of hay. I awoke to cowbells, relaxed and grateful. I could have stayed somewhere with a real bed, but why? —Tim Neville
This appeared in the August/September 2014 issue.