This is a sequel to a love story.

Many years ago I published an essay entitled, "The Second Time Around" (New York Times, July 31, 1988). It was about Wengen, a little mountain village in the Berner Oberland of Switzerland. In a valley facing the famed Jungfrau, I thought Wengen was the most appealing place on earth, and one in which everything seemed perfect. The allure was so powerful that I even imagined moving there and becoming a member of the community.

Still enthralled, I went back a year later. Still fantasizing, I thought everyone there would welcome me back with open arms. But, alas, as one of thousands of travelers, although I was offered all the hospitality that had been the case before, it quickly became clear that I was a guest and would always be one.

Despite the disappointment of the unrequited character of my short-lived " foreign affair," Wengen, as a location and a symbol, continued to hold my affection. I couldn't get the village or the region out of my mind.

Now, twenty years later, along with my true love and life-long partner, I finally got back to that great area for hiking and skiing and just relishing the sheer, unadulterated beauty of the environs. Older and wiser, I was sure I could keep my ardor in check and write objectively about that still-favored locale. But just to be sure, instead of basing ourselves in Wengen, Hedy and I opted to spend time in two other nearby small communities, the resort town of Grindelwald and the tiny hamlet of Murren, each almost equidistant from Wengen.

Within hours back in the area I realized that my proclivity for infatuation with the Alpine scene was, again, difficult to control. I felt the same heart-throbbing, breathtaking, almost sensuous pleasure in the surroundings. And I wasn't alone, Hedy was also smitten.

We decided it had to be something in the atmosphere: the incredible vistas; the combination of colors- white and grey in the mountains, lush green down below and an occasional russet brown of the deciduous trees; the brilliance of the cultivated flowers in chalet window boxes and of the tiny wild ones in the meadows; the uniquely Swiss smells of wood fires and cheese fondue -- and fresh manure; the clanging of cow bells, and most of all, the siren call of that beautiful lady, the Jungfrau.

With Swiss Rail and Jungfrau area passes in hand, we began our September sojourn in Grindelwald, spending three days enjoying the special qualities of the Grand Regina, the only five-star hotel and spa in a town with many very comfortable places as well as many good restaurants -- our favorite was in the Hotel Kreuz and Post.

Even a bit of inclement weather didn't stop us from a full schedule of activities. We rode the cable car to a mountainside station called First in early season snow showers. With the clouds lifting, we enjoyed a long walk down the mountain, through snow-blanketed pine woods, then through green pastures and finally to the main street where, like so many resort towns in Switzerland, only three kinds of items were available in the shops: great hiking gear and ski equipment, Swiss watches ranging in price from reasonable to astronomic, and souvenirs -- pins and patches, scarves and caps and great posters of bygone days.

The next day was an unseasonably snowy one which proved quite fitting, for we were accompanied on the famous Jungfrau-bahn ride to "The Top of Europe" by a very special guide, Ueli Sommer, a man who grew up right there. Ueli's grandfather and father had been managers of the only hotel at the Jungfraujoch, and from there he had learned the legends and lore of the mountains. He shared some of it with us as well as stories of his life as a professional Bergfuhrer and Skilehrer and, for 27 years, as chief of the highly professional Avalanche Security and Ski Patrol Service of the district.

The cog train took the three of us and many others from Gindelwald to Kleine Scheidegg, where we boarded another train and headed right up into the Jungfrau massif, passing by the famed north face of the Eiger, going through the middle peak, the Monch in a long tunnel, and disembarking at the saddle or Joch beneath the highest peak of all, the Jungfrau itself. The visibility from the observatory was less than we'd hoped for, but it was still mind-blowing to contemplate the genius of the engineers and to learn more from Ueli about how it the rail line was built in the late 19th century and how it had changed over the years.

On the third day we left the Grindelwald Valley to continue our planned trip. Unencumbered by luggage, sent ahead for a modest fee through the excellent services of the superb Swiss Rail system, we put on our hiking boots, shouldered our day packs and took one of the longest cable car rides in the world: from the valley floor to the ridged mountain called Mannlichen. Its peak is the storied Lauberhorn, take off point for the famed World Cup downhill race course.

Starting on a snow-and-ice-covered track, we hiked along the path locals call "The Highway," an easy but scenic trail with distant views of the Grindelwald Valley and its notable guardian peaks, the iconic Wetterhorn (often seen on boxes of Swiss chocolate) and Schreckhorn, and with the north face of the Eiger (the Eigerwand), straight ahead. The latter, known to many Americans either from the story of the "Eiger Sanction" or from the logo of a well-known apparel company, is awesome in its majesty and its magnetic power.

Descending into Kleine Scheidegg, we had a delicious lunch in the station restaurant, then took the rack-rail train down the other side of the Mannlichen to Wengen. We made a brief stop tinged with nostalgia and a bit of angst, then went on down to Lauterbrunnen.

Lauterbrunnen is the main town in an amazing valley. Unlike so many in the country it is not v-shaped but u-shaped, with sheer walls dividing the mountains from which we had just come from those to which we were going.

The valley itself is also known for its spectacular cascades, none more impressive than Trummelbach Falls, a series of 10 drops through caves right in the interior of the Jungfrau. The falls are accessible by a lift and stairways in the rock face. For travelers who get caught by foul weather, it is a great rainy day venue.

Not far from Trummelbach Falls is the Stechelburg-Murren-Schilthorn cable car. We took it from the valley floor straight up to the village of Murren, our second base-station.

Murren is one of the few places in Switzerland that is only accessible by such a conveyance- though there is a railroad on top of the plateau that shuttles to Grutschsalp, the site of another cable car that ends at the Lauterbrunnen train station.

In Murren, in contrast to the opulence of our Grindelwald hotel, we stayed in a very traditional and gemutlich lodge, the Jungfrau Hotel, built in the late 19th century and long a landmark in that quiet town with fabulous vistas. It was a perfect place for what we hoped to do- and did.

Murren is also directly below the Schilthorn, now a well-known mountain peak easily reached by a two stage cable car ride. At its top is the Piz Gloria, an modern aerie of concrete and steel first made famous in the 1967 James Bond film, "In Her Majesty's Secret Service." (Going broke, the builders agreed to let a British film company complete the construction in exchange for permission to use the final station for filming the Bond epic. It proved to be a great business decision for the movie put the place on the map and every day hundreds of tourists do as we did and ascend to the lofty summit.)

What is unique about the Piz Gloria is the 360 degree perspective on the high Alps, probably the finest in Europe. And it is certainly the most luxurious high altitude eatery one can find anywhere. There, on a tiny pinnacle nearly 10,000 feet above sea level, one can sit down to a leisurely breakfast or lunch in a slowly revolving restaurant while enjoying the astonishing panorama below. Here again the dominant fixture is the Jungfrau.

The massive mountain is also the principal feature of hikes taken from Murren. During our days there, we took two. Both started from the top of another uphill conveyance, the Allmendhubel funicular, which rises about 1000 feet above Murren. On the first day we trekked southward on the North Face Trail which eventually loops back to the village; the next day we went north on the high Mountain View Trail.

During hours spent on the well-marked hiking paths, we walked through wooded glens and green pastures dotted with fall flowers, rarely out of sight of the snow-covered mountains that ring the area. The light was especially intense. We came to appreciate what a Swiss friend had told us: "The Jungfrau area is always special, but it is more special in September when the air is the clearest and crispest." Indeed, we noted that there were more Swiss visitors than foreigners on the lifts and on the trails, something we had never seen on former summer and winter visits.

Too soon it was time to leave, to get back to our world. As happened to me long ago, this time both Hedy and I knew we were leaving our hearts in the Berner Oberland.

Having again sent the luggage ahead, we took a last walk through the village, then a quick shuttle ride to Grutschalp, cable car to Lauterbrunnen (with a final longing look at the Jungfrau as we descended), and waiting train to Interlaken Ost. From there we transferred to an express train to Zurich. In three and a half hours, traveling by the superbly integrated transporation system, we were at the airport. At dusk we passed Lake Thun. It glowed with warmth, a fitting "Auf Wiedersehen" to our autumn holiday.

I am often loath to say this or that is the best trip one can take, but, truth to tell, I think this one does top the charts. I heartily recommend that lovers of mountains, professional hospitality, good food, great adventures, and awe-inspiring natural beauty head for the Jungfrau area in September, when the last days of summer blend with the anticipation of the winter season just ahead.

SoGoNow editor Peter Rose and his wife, Hedy, are peripatetic professors, travel writers and photographers. Their home base is in Massachusetts.