It’s more than a place: it’s a long-gone mood and feeling. Can I concisely describe the Waldhaus in Sils Maria? No. It’s impossible. The story of such a place deserves to be told by the pens of long-gone great novelists. Herman Hesse or Thomas Mann, once patrons of the Waldhaus, would paint a far better picture. I fear I can’t do it justice but here is my best attempt to describe not only an historic hotel but also an unfortunately rare, in fact vanished, way of travel and mood. Immediately upon entering the Waldhaus Sils you realise you have entered a special world. No one is bothering you with cucumber water or any other trendy half-attempt at welcoming you. There is no overly enthusiastic marketing person greeting you with a feigned smile. Everything is very efficient and cordial; they do not follow the current superficial trends of hospitality. This is what makes it special; it has remained an institution by preserving its identity. The grand structure, first opened in 1908, is perched on a hilltop with 360-degree views over Lake Sils, Lake Silvaplana and the many imposing surrounding mountains. It now seems an obvious place for a hotel but back then it was the visionary choice of Josef and Amalie Giger-Nigg. The hotel is now managed by their great-grandchildren, Claudio and Patrick Dietrich, who have kept the old-world allure and way of travel alive, but combined with a sophisticated savoir-faire that meets modern needs. The Waldhaus has something for everyone, the uniqueness in its rooms and public spaces makes it universally appealing. I could describe the dining room, the bar, the cosy seats by the fireplaces, the reading and smoking rooms, the grand hall or I could start with the rooms: some contemporary and others kept in the traditional style. The new, modern spa is beautiful, calming and perfectly integrated with the rest of the structure. It has an indoor pool, big enough to actually get some laps in. It also has some great art, hung discretely, including pieces by one of the most important artists, Gerhard Richter. The Waldhaus has something for everyone, it ticks all the boxes, but its main appeal is that it has personality. It has soul, which attracts and reflects a very interesting clientele. The first thing I noticed is how civilised a place it is. The grand hall and adjoining bar, comfortably furnished with seats and sofas that create mini living rooms, is filled with people reading and chatting. It is as though you have entered a novel where people still have meaningful conversations, where phones are scarcely present – during my stay I believe I was the only person to take a selfie. Their clothes and manners are the opposite of what you would expect to find in a hot hotel in neighbouring St. Moritz; the guests are educated, refined and enjoying their time at the Waldhaus. It is also frequented by creatives escaping but at the same time finding inspiration. One of them is the German artist Jonathan Meese, who frequently comes to the Waldhaus with his muse, his mother. Most guests have been returning for years; you feel that they find themselves perfectly comfortable and at ease. It has become a second home for many families who come back year after year to spend their holidays here. The Waldhaus is just the perfect host. It has a strong sense of home, it’s evident that its guests are as at ease and comfortable as they would be in their own houses. Most of all, it has kept its personality and the way of vacationing of the past. Many hotels have attempted to create such an experience but it’s a special factor that can’t be reproduced. The Waldhaus is genuine and uncorrupted by the annoying trends of the hospitality world. It has kept its soul. It has every comfort and its identity is conducive to a real vacation. It is a place that allows you to disconnect, have a chat, read a book and enjoy a good bottle of wine and a meal, letting go of all those modern worries.