Robert Louis Stevenson once wrote that he travelled “not to go anywhere, but to go.” I have started to think he never lived somewhere like the Saanenland, where the world simply comes to you.

A very pleasant problem to have
Summer after summer, the best events arrive right on our doorstep. The beach volleyball brings sand, bikini-clad competition and “Mein Block” chants. After a brief break to re-structure the grandstands, decorum returns with the tennis open championship. Around the same time, the Menuhin music festival begins, then, without catching a breath, in August, we’re treated to the arrival of the polo ponies. In early September, the promenade is teeming with Stetsons and cowboy boots, heralding the Country Night music festival.

And those are just the headline events. There’s also the Saanen Brocante, the Rougemont fête, plus cycling races and, of course, the Glacier 3000 run (in which yours truly participated a few years ago). Suddenly, the whole summer calendar fills itself without any effort from us.

It is wonderfully convenient. In most places, if you want to see a good music festival or a sporting event, you study the dates, plan the journey, book hotels, sort out parking and drive for hours. Here, everything comes to us without any long car trips or much planning at all. You can be enjoying a world-class sporting event within ten minutes of deciding to go.

That ease is a genuine luxury of Gstaad. Yet I sometimes wonder whether it makes us a little lazy? Why fight the traffic when the polo or beach volleyball or a classical concert is happening just down the road? The temptation to stay put is strong.

The best laid plans?
I remember one sunny weekend last summer. We had decided to make the effort and had planned a day out to Neuchâtel.

We got as far as Saanen. The cars lined up on the field beside the roundabout told us everything we needed to know. It seemed such a shame to drive dozens of kilometres when we had this event right here on our doorstep, so we shelved plans for venturing out of the valley for another day.

We parked the car and spent a happy few hours wandering the stalls selling all the things we didn’t need. We enjoyed the traditional sausage and bread on a cardboard plate with a dollop of mustard on the side, then drove the 3 minutes home. Neuchâtel would have to wait. Again. It has been waiting for three summers now, and I am beginning to think it may wait indefinitely.

The other side of easy
There is nothing wrong with enjoying what is on your doorstep. In fact, it would be silly not to appreciate these high-quality events that so many other places would love to host. But I do catch myself thinking that convenience can dull the habit of making a proper effort. The Saanenland makes it very easy to stay. The valley, it turns out, is very good at making its case.

Stevenson believed the great affair was to move. Living here, it is easy to forget that. Every now and then, it is worth resisting the temptation to stay put and getting in the car to venture further afield. If only to make sure you are not missing something wonderful simply because it did not come to you first.

ANNA CHARLES