An Oxfordshire Girl Abroad White Turf, St Moritz
By Jo Monck H
igh up in the Alps sits a little town called St Moritz, a place full of such magical beauty that you expect it to sparkle as you pull up in the Alpine train, The Glacier Express, incidentally the slowest express train in the world, that takes you through the majestic beauty of the Alpine mountains 5,910 feet above sea level. Thankfully it is the slowest as the scenery is breathtaking and needs to be taken in at a more sedate pace.
St Moritz has long been the destination of the rich and famous, sung about in the 60’s and also James Bond films have this snow covered idyll as a filming backdrop. It has also hosted the Winter Olympics twice and is home to the famous Cresta Run and, random fact, Alfred Hitchock spent his honeymoon here.
My association with this little bit of Switzerland, Gods pocket, as my father used to refer to it, began over twenty years ago. In 1911 my husbands incredibly foresighted Grandfather Charles Sydney Goldman together with the Bonn family, laid the cornerstone of a hotel called Suvretta House, which at that time I should imagine a fairly quiet part of Switzerland. Apart from Suvretta House St Moritz has an array of beautiful hotels, The Kulm being the oldest built in 1856, St Moritz became THE resort to go to, not one to be avoided when the snow came. The association with the hotel is long gone but my love of St Moritz and in particular White Turf remain.
In the winter the lake at the base of the town freezes over and in an event that fits perfectly with this scene of Alpine perfection, horses race on it, an event called White Turf. In a series of five races,
including Flat Racing, Skijoring and trotting, horses take over this little patch of Switzerland for the first three Sundays in February. Bright colours fill the white background of the lake and the horses breath is visible against the freezing mountain air as they prepare for the day ahead.
White Turf began in 1906 as a race on the road from St Moritz to Champfer and was won by Philip Mark and his horse Blitz (German for Lightening) the following year it was held on the lake and since then it had gone from strength to strength and now you are entertained by live music between races and can get all manner of wonderful food, the atmosphere is a party one and in many ways quite surreal, unlike any other race track in the world.
The excitement began for me that morning as I looked out of the hotel room window to see horses being exercised in the snow, it is a short walk to the racetrack and the day began with a cappuccino on the lake studying the days racing program. Beginning to peel layers off as strangely it gets quite warm despite the temperature being just above zero, St Moritz is usually bathed in sunshine and the sun is its logo, created in 1934 by designer Walter Hedberg, it enjoys on average 300 days of sunshine per year.
There is an air of anticipation as people make their way to the stands, the outer rails are also lined with spectators, the friend that I was with was treading on the ice with a little trepidation, I reassured her that the ice on the lake is on average fifty centimeters thick so can quite easily take the weight of the horses and the crowds of people who come to watch.
Jo Monck
The first race is the trotting race where a very lightweight single seat racing cart called a Sulky is attached by harness to the horse, the race is so fast it passes by in a blur of snow and colour and is won by a young girl, huge respect, not something I would be wanting to try at home! The races quickly follow each other in an action packed day on the ice, I watch the Skijoring and wonder just how do they stay upright? I can barely get anywhere on foot on ice without sliding off piste, adding skis, a horse and a speed of 35 mph is to me a recipe for disaster but as they fly past I can only marvel at the balance and skill shown, the closest I have come to this experience was long reining on mud a few years ago and is not something I would like to repeat.
The two flat races fill the lake with glamorous spectators, if ever there was a
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