The place that turned out to be better than the photos: Lauterbrunnen Valley

There are places that I've reviewed so many photos of in advance that it felt like I'd already been there. The Lauterbrunnen Valley in Switzerland was just one of those: green meadows, neat wooden houses, huge mountains and waterfalls that fall directly from the cliffs, and in the background it all looks like someone specially painted the perfect landscape for a tourist calendar. I looked at these photos and prepared myself in advance for a little disappointment, because the camera can do a lot, especially if the photographer knows the right angle, the light and knows how to remove everything unnecessary from the frame.

Therefore, I went there in a rather calm mood and mentally repeated to myself that nothing supernatural should be expected. Well, Switzerland is beautiful, of course, but I've already seen these mountains on the Internet dozens of times. As it turned out, the Internet did me a disservice in this case: it showed me beautiful photos, but it completely failed to prepare me for what I would see in reality.

The first minutes in Lauterbrunnen

When I first saw the valley with my own eyes, I literally had to stop in the middle of the road and just look around for a few seconds. A huge green valley opened up in front of me, surrounded by almost sheer cliffs, and waterfalls flowed down from different heights, which in the photos just seemed like beautiful white stripes. It all looked so big in person that I suddenly felt like a man who had accidentally wandered into the set of a very expensive movie and was now afraid to admit to the crew that he didn't have a pass.

The funniest thing happened when I took out my phone to take the first photo. I pointed the camera, looked at the screen and found there was just a beautiful landscape, although in front of me was something completely different in feeling and scale. I took a few more shots from different angles, zoomed in, moved away, zoomed in again, and eventually realized that the problem wasn't with the phone, but with me: I was trying to cram an entire valley into a palm-sized rectangle.

Waterfalls that are impossible to photograph properly

One of the main impressions for me was the Staubbach waterfall, which falls from a great height directly from a cliff. It looks very impressive in the photos, but in reality its scale is perceived in a completely different way, because you stand below and see how the water from a height of about three hundred meters turns into a thin silver ribbon, and then dissolves somewhere below. At the same time, you don't just look at the waterfall, but you hear the water, feel the cool air and realize how huge the rock is in front of you.

Of course, I started photographing again, because a person who came to Switzerland and did not take a photo of a waterfall will not forgive himself later. I took one shot, the second, the third, looked at the screen and realized that in the photo the waterfall looks much more modest than in real life, so I decided to just put the phone away and watch. It was probably the first time during the whole trip that I realized that sometimes the best photo is the one you didn't take at all.

When nature decided to spoil my plans a little

I came to Lauterbrunnen hoping for a beautiful clear sky, because I had already drawn the perfect picture in my head: a green valley, blue sky, sun, mountains, and I was somewhere in the middle of this splendor, preferably without signs of fatigue on my face. Nature apparently decided that it would not be too easy for me, and gradually began to cover the peaks with clouds. 

At first, I was upset because I was already mentally imagining photos with perfect light, and then I noticed how the fog was slowly starting to descend the slopes.

And then the unexpected happened: the valley became even more beautiful. The clouds hid part of the mountains, the waterfalls turned almost silvery, the light became soft, and the whole valley acquired a completely different atmosphere, a little mysterious and even fabulous. I was standing under a raincoat that looked much less romantic than I had imagined before the trip, and I was thinking that nature had just explained to me quite convincingly why you shouldn't plan your perfect photo too carefully.

Switzerland, where everything looks too neat

I actually liked how harmonious everything looks in Lauterbrunnen. Small wooden houses, green fields, mountain roads, waterfalls and cows with bells seem to have existed here for several centuries and are not going to adapt to tourists with phones at all. Even the cows looked like they understood the local philosophy better than I did: take your time, chew grass calmly, and don't try to check every five minutes whether you look good enough in a photo.

I walked through the valley and several times caught myself thinking that if I saw such a picture on the Internet, I would probably think that the photographer had overdone the processing a little. But then I turned my head and saw almost the same thing in front of me, only even more beautiful and voluminous. At some point, I even began to suspect that the Swiss had deliberately built all this so that tourists would feel like losers with their phones.

The moment when I stopped taking pictures

The most interesting thing happened towards the end of the walk, when I realized that I already had enough photos, but none of them conveyed the main thing. There are mountains, waterfalls, houses and green fields in the pictures, but there is no feeling of air, silence, coolness and that strange feeling when you stand in the middle of a valley and realize how huge the world around you is. A photograph can show a place, but it doesn't know how to convey how you feel in it at all.

So I just put my phone in my pocket and walked for a while without taking anything off. For a man who came to such beauty with a fully charged phone and big plans for photos, it was almost an act of inner maturation.

The place that turned out to be better than the photos

When I went to Lauterbrunnen, I was sure that I already knew about what was waiting for me. I saw dozens of photos, knew about the famous waterfalls, imagined the valley, and even chose the places where I wanted to take pictures in advance, but the reality was still completely different. It was louder, more spacious, cooler, bigger, and for some reason much more emotional than any photo I had seen before the trip.

That is why Lauterbrunnen remained in my memory not as another beautiful point on the map of Switzerland, but as a place that made me stop looking at the screen for the first time in a long time. I went there to take photos, and I left with a memory of that morning when I stood in the middle of a huge valley, looked at waterfalls and mountains and thought of only one thing.: "That's really something that photographs can't convey."