It began, as all catastrophes do, with confidence.
Glenda had done Seceda before. A triumphant autumn ascent the year prior—cool breezes, functioning gondolas, and photos so ethereal they looked AI-generated. So naturally, when she returned in late spring, she believed herself to be an alpine veteran.
We stood at the bottom of the mountain. The first gondola was running, purring like a good Italian espresso machine. Glenda, in crisp linen and suspiciously optimistic sneakers, declared, “Let’s go say hello to the heavens again.”
Tickets purchased. Spirits high.
We ascended smoothly.
But then—disaster at the transfer station.
At the top of the first leg, a small, laminated sign delivered the fatal blow:
SECOND GONDOLA CLOSED FOR MAINTENANCE.
The one that takes you to the top.
The one that spares you from spiritual confrontation with your own knees.
“We can hike it,” Glenda said, smiling.
Like Eve reaching for the apple.
Like Marie Antoinette reaching for the cake.
And so we began.
The incline was modest at first. She was chatty. Light-hearted.
She even commented on the charming cows.
At minute fifteen, she grew quiet.
At minute twenty-five, she said, “I’m dizzy but polite about it.”
Here’s what we didn’t know—or rather, what she refused to Google:
In Europe, especially the Alps, SPRING IS MAINTENANCE SEASON.
Gondolas. Cable cars. Chairlifts. Tramways. If it’s meant to carry humans up a mountain, it’s probably on a spa day during spring. Always, always check in advance—or prepare to summit with the gait of a desperate tourist and the medical readiness of a croissant.
To complicate things further: Glenda, at the time, was undiagnosed diabetic.
Not a single granola bar. Not one banana.
No water, unless you count attitude.
Midway, she stopped.
Put her hands on her hips.
And said, with the solemnity of a woman staring down mortality:
“I think the mountain is judging me. And it’s not wrong.”
We turned back. Slowly. Dramatically.
She paused at a rock formation and sighed, “This is now my summit.”
Then sat in a patch of alpine grass and pretended she was meditating, when in truth she was calculating how far the pastry shop was from the gondola station.
Why Visit Seceda:
- When the gondolas work, it’s glorious
- The views are absurd, like a Bob Ross fever dream
- Even if you fail, you’ll look incredible doing it—and that counts for something
Travel Tip:
Avoid mountain misadventures by checking gondola and tramway schedules in advance—especially in spring. They’re often closed for annual maintenance, and no, they don’t care that you packed your cutest hiking scarf.
All Around The World 