Nesslau

It was the beginning of the summer, I was back in Switzerland and this time I was in love…

It was a clear case of “Love at first sight”, if this term can be applied to a veterinary clinic or to a place of work in general.

By now, I have had a number of opportunities of working at this clinic, which, after having seen and visited a large variety of veterinary establishments over the previous five years, is in my eyes getting very close to being “perfect” for me.

Let me explain….

Getting there for the first time, wasn’t that easy: Driving South from the Eastern shores of Lake Constance, I had to follow the juvenile Rhine, which is separating Austria from Switzerland, nearly all the way to the principality of Liechtenstein, a place of just below 40 000 inhabitants, signified mostly by expensive cars with unusual number plates and by one of the highest per capita incomes in Europe.

Just before crossing the invisible border into its capital Vaduz, I had to take a sharp right turn and followed the road, that was now climbing steeply into the mountains on the Swiss side. The Diesel engine of my old BMW was put to its physical limits along sheer endless serpentines and as the Rhine Valley disappeared slowly underneath a layer of clouds, I finally arrived at the small ski resort of Wildhaus, at just above 3500 ft. From here the road led through a number of high alpine plateaus, with the “ Churfirsten”, a ragged chain of mountain peaks, that resemble a row of shark teeth, to my left

and the towering summit of the Säntis mountain to the right. What I had entered, was the Toggenburg region, home to a thriving farming community where cows, sheep and goats outnumber the human population, where the main reason for road blocks are herds of livestock, being moved by men and women in traditional costumes from one pasture to another,

and where SUVs gather in the morning not at petrol stations to fill up with fuel, but instead at the local dairies, to offload their yield of the previous night’s milking sessions,

to produce the world famous Appenzeller cheese.

Here, surrounded by a landscape of mind-blowing natural beauty, just outside of the small village of Nesslau, Carla and Dani Leutenegger, a local veterinary couple, realised some years ago their dream: to build a meticulously designed veterinary clinic together with boarding kennels and a cattery right next door.

Although no longer owned by these amazing colleagues, the place still bears their handwriting in every tiny detail, all based on decades of professional experience paired with the ingrained Swiss love for tidiness and precision.

Nothing at this clinic was at its place by coincidence. Every piece of equipment, the fittings, the furniture and even the quintessential Swiss coffee machine were all of the best quality and a delight to operate or to work with. No expenses had been spared for the benefit of the patients, but also for the people who are working here.  Everything was labelled and there was a clear and obvious system in each draw and in every cup board.

The well lid consulting rooms were clear cut, spacious, very clean and uncluttered.

For dogs and for cats there was a separate waiting room area and individual inpatient facilities. The place featured not only a couple of operating theatres, but also a lot of diagnostic tools, as well as a CT.

At many occasions I caught myself thinking : “Oh, that’s the way we should have done it at my clinic in Surrey.” or “I wish, I would have had this hand tool or this machine…..”

The pleasure I took in the working facilities was matched by that for the Swiss and Croatian team that welcomed me. Always friendly, always polite, competent and always happy to help, especially when this involved translating for me frequently the challenging Swiss accent of our clients.

While living at the clinic, I could take Mia, my trusted Vizsla, for morning runs on the foot path along the Thurgau creek, that was running with its clear water through the freshly cut fields, just a stone throw away from the building.

In the evenings after the last patients had left the clinic, I could put on my hiking boots to explore together with my lucky canine companion the well signed trails of the Stockberg, the mountain I could see during the whole day from my consulting room window. Behind the building the more remote Ijental was waiting,

as was the Schwägalp on the other side of the village, just a short drive away.  Here one had access to the Säntis, a mountain of more than 8000 ft altitude and to the whole Alpstein massif.  

 

One morning, while sitting on the roof terrace of my new found veterinary Nirvana, enjoying my archetypal Bircher Muesli and the serene landscape around me, I, not for the first time, realised how hard and full of deprivation the life as a travelling veterinarian was….