The town has one main street, two cafés, and a lake so clear in the morning that the mountains appear twice. We came for a long weekend and almost stayed for a week.
There is not much to do, which is exactly what to do there. Walk to the lake. Walk around it. Come back for soup.
The guesthouse
Our hosts had run the place for thirty years. Breakfast was bread, cheese, and whatever jam was open. Dinner was whatever was in the pot. Nobody asked if we had any preferences and nobody needed to.
On the last morning we woke to fresh snow on the peaks. We sat by the window with coffee and decided that was enough of a goodbye.