Where Nothing
Ends Up Being Everything

You set off, step by step, snow-covered mountains everywhere you look. The deeper you go into the valley, the more the snow crunches underfoot, and the further you walk, the further you leave civilization behind. You let the atmosphere take hold of you, take in the mountains around you, and savour every single step.

After an hour, an old building comes into view. It looks like a farmhouse. You're glad to step inside — into the warmth. And the moment you enter, you feel it immediately: this place is something truly special. The rooms look like they're from another century, yet they glow with a modern warmth. You can smell the wood that has stood here for centuries — it creaks under every step, as if it wanted to tell you stories of all the winters it has already lived through.

What is Zuort?

Zuort isn't a village, nor a hotel in the classic sense — it's a single historic hamlet at the far end of the Val Sinestra in the Lower Engadine, an hour's walk above Vnà, reachable only on a forest trail past two suspension bridges over the Brancla stream. A guesthouse, a barn, a chalet with its own carillon chapel, surrounded by nothing but forest, meadow and mountains. No road access, no place you pass through by accident — you have to want to come here.

Sarah and Reinhard, the hosts of Hof Zuort — © Stephan Trösch

Without quite knowing why, you sense it: this house is a place of power. It can't be compared to any hotel, because it has written its own story — a story that began more than a hundred years ago, when a Dutch conductor fell in love with this valley and turned a simple farmhouse into a building with its own chapel, whose bells still ring out across the valley today.

One of the historic guest rooms at Hof Zuort — © Lydia Lydekat

The small sauna house on the grounds — © Lydia Lydekat

The dining room with its historic leaded windows, hand-carved chairs and hunting trophies — exactly the mix of history and warmth Sarah means when she talks about “rooms that give you goosebumps.” — © Patrik Gerber

A Scent of Home

There's already a delicate sweet scent in the air — what could it be? Kaiserschmarrn. Not a Swiss dish, admittedly, but since the hosts, Sarah and Reinhard, are from South Tyrol, they let their own cooking flow into the Engadine kitchen. Plenty of locals hike up just for the Knödel, and some returning guests swear this farm makes the best Capuns anywhere. Either way, guests rave about the fresh, honest food.

Sarah confirms this from experience: “Guests are surprised by the beautiful, historic rooms, by the incredibly good food, and by how warmly we welcome them.” Since taking over in 2024, the kitchen has been completely rebuilt — it used to be just a household kitchen — a dishwashing room was added, and one room was turned into a new lounge. In the first year, guests mostly stayed just one night; now the average stay is three nights.

One of the hearty house dishes at Hof Zuort — © Stephan Trösch

In the newly built kitchen, every plate is arranged by hand — © Hof Zuort

Deeper and Deeper Into the Silence

The next morning starts with ski touring gear or snowshoes. You walk, lose track of time, and go deeper and deeper into the snowbound winter landscape — surrounded by white mountains, powder snow and silence. You see no other people, more likely animals. On the right side of the valley, in the forest, you can even spot the so-called earth pyramids — bizarre erosion towers formed during the last ice age, giving the valley an almost prehistoric character.

The snowshoe trail through the snow-laden forest — © Hof Zuort

And at some point, with a little luck, you run into the farm's only year-round neighbour. “The highlight is always a short stop at Chasper's in Griosch,” says Sarah. “A kind of mountain hermit, our only neighbour all year round, and he always has great stories to tell.”

One of the two suspension bridges over the Brancla, blanketed in snow — © Hof Zuort

After skiing back down or hiking back on snowshoes, you can unwind in the small sauna or settle in with a book in the lounge — while outside, the snow swallows every last sound of civilisation.

Reinhard at work around the farm — © Hof Zuort

What Remains in the End

What's left in the evening, when you step out into the cold, is almost impossible to put into words, says Sarah: “The nights are indescribable: the calm, the silence, the starry sky, the Milky Way, the clear air. It's one of the darkest places in Switzerland — we have no light pollution at all, no outdoor lamps. Truly magical.”

None of this is easy. “Our biggest challenge is holding on to the heart and passion we put into this place while still earning a living from it — without burning ourselves out,” Sarah admits openly. “Our working days never end, and we can't afford more staff.” It's exactly this honesty that makes Hof Zuort so credible: two people pouring their hearts into a place you can only reach on foot — and which, once you arrive, doesn't let you go.