On the flight from Dubai to Zurich I watched the film Everest, a thrilling story of bravery and tragedy in the Himalayas.
By the end of Davos 2016, I could certainly empathise with the intrepid but doomed adventurers of 1996, many of whom met their end in the snows of Nepal after a series of disasters, some unfortunate, some down to their own bad planning.
My trip started as brightly as it did for the Everest climbers as they made their way through glorious sunshine through the foothills. Until a couple of week ago, Switzerland was having its mildest winter for 150 years; Davos itself had experienced a "green Christmas" for the first time in living memory, a local told me later.
But the week before the World Economic Forum got under way, there had been a blizzard approaching New York proportions, so the train moved smoothly eastwards through countryside as different from Dubai as is possible to imagine. Occasionally, the sun would burst brilliantly through low threatening cloud to show the Swiss Alps in all their snowy glory.
Ochsen 2 hotel in Davos Platz was my destination. Again, there was little similarity with the luxury of Dubai – apart from the price.
The two-star establishment for most of the year welcomes skiers and trekkers. While it is comfortable and convenient, with a good bar and restaurant, it is only in the WEF season that it feels able to charge the same rate as a five-star fun palace on Jumeirah Beach.
But the WEF was as absorbing as ever, the après-piste agreeable, and after the first day I was still full of good spirit and optimism. Until I went to bed.
I’ve been to several WEFs before over many years, but this is the first time I’ve found it almost impossible to sleep. Doze for an hour, wake up for two.
That was the pattern that gripped me throughout the four days. One experienced Weffer told me that many of the delegates were reporting the same difficulty. He blamed the altitude. Davos is 1,560 metres above sea level – just over 5,000 feet. The effects of altitude can occur at any level over 3,000ft, he said.
So why hadn’t it happened to me before at Davos? Apparently there was some unique combination of atmospheric conditions – high pressure and sunny cloudless days – that exacerbated the altitude problem, especially for sea-levellers like me.
At least I was in good company, with a good few billionaires and rock stars walking around the Congress Hall bleary eyed after a sleepless night. It didn’t stop me from enjoying the event.
Except that, by the time my departure came, I was totally exhausted and not at all prepared for the near-disaster that unfolded. I checked out at 10am, plenty of time I thought for what had been a two-and-a-half hour trip a few days before, and lots of leeway for my 2.45pm return flight.
But no. You have to change trains twice between Davos and Zurich airport, and the connections just did not seem to match up. With the legendary efficiency of Swiss railways in apparent disarray, missing my flight looked a certainty.
So what should have been a dreamy ride through the Alps turned into a fraught race against time, much like the Everest expedition. I made the plane by the skin of my teeth, mainly because the arrival from Dubai had been late.
On the return, I watched Everest again. I really don't think mountains are my thing.
fkane@thenational.ae
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