Chalet-style buildings? Tick. Restaurants serving Swiss-German food (think lots of sausages and sauerkraut)? Tick. Big cuckoo clock in the centre of town? Tick again.

Yet we were not in Europe but on the other side of the world in South America. Argentina to be precise, in the tiny mountain town of La Cumbrecita.

My husband and I stumbled upon this village while searching for a place to hike after many weeks exploring cities. Two easy bus rides from Argentina’s second-biggest city Cordoba, and we found ourselves smack bang in one of the most surreal, yet undeniably gorgeous, places we have visited.

La Cumbrecita was founded by a German immigrant, Helmut Grabjolsky, in 1934 and modelled on a European alpine village. Tourism began in 1937 and the first private homes were built about 1940, but most of the buildings look like they were moved from a German or Swiss mountain town and plonked here.

The restaurants serve German food with a few Argentinian eateries on the outskirts of the centre. It is a popular getaway spot for Argentinians and indeed we felt like the only outside tourists in the place.

The town is an intriguing mix of European and Argentinian. Photo: Alison Cassar

Cars are banned from the main thoroughfare, which is loaded with cute shops selling Argentinian sweets and crafts – it was quite bizarre to walk into a place that looked entirely Germanic to find alfajores (a popular Argentinian biscuit) and indigenous crafts scattered among German beers and food and fridge magnets depicting lederhosen-wearing figures.

For those not into hiking, the town offers many attractions. On our first wander we discovered a hidden forest – the trees had moss hanging down like bridal veils. A small stream babbled below a path surrounded by deep green foliage – a tonic for eyes weary of concrete and asphalt.

There was a tiny, quaint ecumenical church tucked into a glen, which opened on weekends and was lovely inside, and a waterhole, La Olla, with a small waterfall. It was enchanting and I honestly would not have been surprised if a fairy creature popped out of the woodland.

The town’s tiny but sweet ecumenical church. Photo: Alison Cassar

If you are into trekking as well, then this is your place. There are plenty of trails, most accessible and well sign-posted from the centre of town so a car is not necessary. Some treks require a guide; we had only three days so we did the ones we could reach on foot on our own.

A heavy mist that greeted us on our first full day in the town did not bode well for any views on the mostly uphill treks, but this and the cold meant we had these walks mostly to ourselves.

Our first was to the Cascadas Grande (big waterfall). The trek was a short (about 45 minutes), but challenging climb navigating narrow paths with some boulder-scrambling at the end to get a view of the waterfall. The misty weather obscured it for some time, but as it briefly cleared we were rewarded with a long, dramatic drop of water that landed in a pool.

After a fortifying lunch we again consulted the map from the main tourist office and decided to tackle the Camino Alto (high road) – a three-hour round trip from town up to what we thought would be another waterfall – the Cascades Escondidos or hidden falls.

An added attraction for me was the town cemetery just off the Camino Alto. We set off with high hopes. Google and the mist had other plans.

The fog became heavier and heavier as we climbed higher and higher so forget any views. Somehow this made it more interesting – we felt like the only creatures in the world.

Until we heard a low-pitched sound and were suddenly confronted by a cow. Many cows in fact, and a few goats that graze high up in the mountains. Our fantasy bubble was burst.

Still no waterfall though and we had also somehow missed the cemetery as Google failed to spot the trail off the main path (we found it on the way back). As our trail had largely disappeared, we used horse droppings as our guide as the path is often used by riders. It worked and following the droppings helped us avoid stepping in them.

Finally we reached the top and no waterfall. Not even the sound of one. Then again the fog was so thick we would not have seen it anyway. We discovered why it wasn’t there on another climb the next day, but for now it was time to head back down before it became dark.

A close encounter of the bovine kind on a foggy trek outside the town. Photo: Alison Cassar

We visited the cemetery on the way back. It was a tiny burial place set in a charming glen off the main path. Almost all the names were German and there was a plaque to Helmut Grabjolsky as well.

Our challenge the next day was Cerro Wank (yes, I know, we laughed too!). Cerro is Spanish for hill or peak and in this case Wank is pronounced Vonk.

Again we woke to heavy mist so were not hopeful of any views, but this turned out to be a wonderful, if arduous trek. The trail is mostly rocks going up to 1715 metres above sea level. It was hard going, but our efforts did not go unrewarded. The clouds parted at the summit and the sun came out to reveal stunning views of mountains on one side and the town below us.

A group on a guided trek joined us at the top. In our chat with them we were told they were on the way to the hidden falls, which were in the opposite direction to where Google had taken us.

The last morning was a trek up Cerro Crystal – a two-hour round trip on what was the best weather day of our stay. The sun shone and the views were again breathtaking.

Our last afternoon was spent at La Olla. My husband had been angling for a swim and as the sun was out it seemed the best time to take the plunge. The Argentinians around us looked on astonished as he stripped to his budgies and entered the water, temperature eight degrees. The ‘loco gringo’ caused much amusement among the local visitors.

Two buses the next morning and we were back in Cordoba and I was already missing the fairy village in the mountains.