Sanatorium in Swiss resort visited by Arthur Conan Doyle and Robert Louis Stevenson faces closure
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The German novelist Thomas Mann said it had "no smell, no content, no humidity" and local people compare it to breathing champagne: the air in Davos has been the key to the Swiss alpine town's success for more than a century. At 1,600 metres (5,250 ft) above sea level, it is said to be drier than anywhere else on the continent and free of the house dust mites that can trigger allergies.
But Davos may be about to lose its status as a mecca for those suffering from asthma, neurodermatitis or tuberculosis. Advances in medicine and the strong Swiss franc mean health insurers are increasingly reluctant to pay for trips to the Alps. In 1944, more than 40 sanatoriums dotted the hillsides of Davos, now only two remain.
One of them, the German-run High Mountain Clinic in Davos Wolfgang, narrowly avoided bankruptcy in November and has until late May 2014 to convince lenders it can cope with almost £28m of debts. "The air on the magic mountain is definitely getting thinner," said Udo Kaiser, one of the doctors who is fighting to keep the clinic open.
Davos was put on the map as a health resort in the 1860s, when Dr Alexander Spengler, 39, pioneered a treatment for tuberculosis sufferers that involved cold morning showers, regular drinks of fresh cows' milk and, crucially, long spells of lying on deckchairs and breathing clean mountain air. Infectious phlegm was spat out and collected in a lidded container made of blue glass, known as the Blauer Heinrich or Blue Henry.
By the start of the 20th century, the Alpine town had been immortalised by Europe's aristocracy and intelligentsia. In Mann's novel, The Magic Mountain, the main character visits a friend in a sanatorium and ends up staying for seven years.
Mann's novel is more widely read these days than the British writer Elizabeth MacMorland's account of her stay in Davos, but it was the latter's publication in 1878 that triggered a British rush on Davos.
Walking around the town centre now, there are still remnants of what used to make up the "English quarter": an English school, an English church, a Promenade des Anglais, a Hotel D'Angleterre for injured servicemen and a library that used to house the largest collection of English-language books on the continent. In 1900, one of the town's first luxury sanatoriums was built in an arts-and-crafts style, with floral toilet seats imported from the UK.
Victorian poet John Addington Symonds and writers Arthur Conan Doyle and Robert Louis Stevenson all sought relief from their ailments in the Alps. Stevenson arrived with severe writers' block and left in 1882 having finished his classic novel Treasure Island. "A mountain valley, an Alpine winter, and an invalid's weakness make up among them a prison of the most effective kind," he wrote in the essay Davos in Winter.
These days, Brits are more likely to be found skiing on the slopes of nearby Klosters. Since 1947, medicinal treatment for TB has made trips up the mountain unnecessary – most of the sanatoriums have been converted into hotels. A few, such as the High Mountain Clinic, managed to successfully reinvent themselves as rehabilitation centres for allergy sufferers: as recently as 1988, there used to be a year-long wait for beds here. But this winter, a third of the beds are empty – only a few guests rest on the sun-facing balconies. "These days, if you have asthma you don't go to Davos, you see a pneumologist," said Klaus Pleyer, a therapist at the clinic.
When the management in September revealed the extent of the clinic's debt and its plan to close the centre by the end of the year, the region reacted with shock. The chief magistrate of the Graubünden region said closure would amount to "an economic catastrophe". Pleyer and Kaiser rallied with a group of investors to try to keep the place going.
If there is a place for sanatoriums in Davos in the future, they argue, the emphasis should be less on healing the sick and more about making their lives liveable.
Ute Eberlein, 51, has visited the High Mountain clinic more than 40 times. In Karlsruhe, where she lives, she has to see a doctor every day but in Davos, she said, the climate doubles her lung capacity. "As soon as I get here, I can breathe freely," she said. "One thing is clear to me: if the clinic shuts down, I wouldn't survive for much longer."
The management's rescue plan includes reducing the number of beds from 350 to 150 and repurposing part of the centre as a home for the elderly, or as "modular age-based living": like Germany, Switzerland's population is forecast to age significantly by 2035.
"In the past, many of the sanatoria made the mistake of only thinking in terms of existing possibilities," said Kaiser. "In order to survive in Davos, you have to look towards the future."
At the start of the 20th century, many local people were sceptical about the ill people who came to the town: associating the name Davos with disease hardly seemed like a good way to attract tourists. But Peter Flury, a local doctor who runs a medical history museum, said the sanatoriums would be missed. "Davos has always needed the clinics, even it doesn't like to admit that," he said. Reported by guardian.co.uk 12 minutes ago.
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The German novelist Thomas Mann said it had "no smell, no content, no humidity" and local people compare it to breathing champagne: the air in Davos has been the key to the Swiss alpine town's success for more than a century. At 1,600 metres (5,250 ft) above sea level, it is said to be drier than anywhere else on the continent and free of the house dust mites that can trigger allergies.
But Davos may be about to lose its status as a mecca for those suffering from asthma, neurodermatitis or tuberculosis. Advances in medicine and the strong Swiss franc mean health insurers are increasingly reluctant to pay for trips to the Alps. In 1944, more than 40 sanatoriums dotted the hillsides of Davos, now only two remain.
One of them, the German-run High Mountain Clinic in Davos Wolfgang, narrowly avoided bankruptcy in November and has until late May 2014 to convince lenders it can cope with almost £28m of debts. "The air on the magic mountain is definitely getting thinner," said Udo Kaiser, one of the doctors who is fighting to keep the clinic open.
Davos was put on the map as a health resort in the 1860s, when Dr Alexander Spengler, 39, pioneered a treatment for tuberculosis sufferers that involved cold morning showers, regular drinks of fresh cows' milk and, crucially, long spells of lying on deckchairs and breathing clean mountain air. Infectious phlegm was spat out and collected in a lidded container made of blue glass, known as the Blauer Heinrich or Blue Henry.
By the start of the 20th century, the Alpine town had been immortalised by Europe's aristocracy and intelligentsia. In Mann's novel, The Magic Mountain, the main character visits a friend in a sanatorium and ends up staying for seven years.
Mann's novel is more widely read these days than the British writer Elizabeth MacMorland's account of her stay in Davos, but it was the latter's publication in 1878 that triggered a British rush on Davos.
Walking around the town centre now, there are still remnants of what used to make up the "English quarter": an English school, an English church, a Promenade des Anglais, a Hotel D'Angleterre for injured servicemen and a library that used to house the largest collection of English-language books on the continent. In 1900, one of the town's first luxury sanatoriums was built in an arts-and-crafts style, with floral toilet seats imported from the UK.
Victorian poet John Addington Symonds and writers Arthur Conan Doyle and Robert Louis Stevenson all sought relief from their ailments in the Alps. Stevenson arrived with severe writers' block and left in 1882 having finished his classic novel Treasure Island. "A mountain valley, an Alpine winter, and an invalid's weakness make up among them a prison of the most effective kind," he wrote in the essay Davos in Winter.
These days, Brits are more likely to be found skiing on the slopes of nearby Klosters. Since 1947, medicinal treatment for TB has made trips up the mountain unnecessary – most of the sanatoriums have been converted into hotels. A few, such as the High Mountain Clinic, managed to successfully reinvent themselves as rehabilitation centres for allergy sufferers: as recently as 1988, there used to be a year-long wait for beds here. But this winter, a third of the beds are empty – only a few guests rest on the sun-facing balconies. "These days, if you have asthma you don't go to Davos, you see a pneumologist," said Klaus Pleyer, a therapist at the clinic.
When the management in September revealed the extent of the clinic's debt and its plan to close the centre by the end of the year, the region reacted with shock. The chief magistrate of the Graubünden region said closure would amount to "an economic catastrophe". Pleyer and Kaiser rallied with a group of investors to try to keep the place going.
If there is a place for sanatoriums in Davos in the future, they argue, the emphasis should be less on healing the sick and more about making their lives liveable.
Ute Eberlein, 51, has visited the High Mountain clinic more than 40 times. In Karlsruhe, where she lives, she has to see a doctor every day but in Davos, she said, the climate doubles her lung capacity. "As soon as I get here, I can breathe freely," she said. "One thing is clear to me: if the clinic shuts down, I wouldn't survive for much longer."
The management's rescue plan includes reducing the number of beds from 350 to 150 and repurposing part of the centre as a home for the elderly, or as "modular age-based living": like Germany, Switzerland's population is forecast to age significantly by 2035.
"In the past, many of the sanatoria made the mistake of only thinking in terms of existing possibilities," said Kaiser. "In order to survive in Davos, you have to look towards the future."
At the start of the 20th century, many local people were sceptical about the ill people who came to the town: associating the name Davos with disease hardly seemed like a good way to attract tourists. But Peter Flury, a local doctor who runs a medical history museum, said the sanatoriums would be missed. "Davos has always needed the clinics, even it doesn't like to admit that," he said. Reported by guardian.co.uk 12 minutes ago.