CH - Luzern / Zürich

This post has not yet been written / updated. It is to span 29 July, 30 July, and 1 August 2007.

CH - Luzern

Luzern is beautiful: flowers and greenery are always within sight, the city is compact and easily walkable, people seem friendlier than in other cities, I can see a plethora of stars despite being in one of the country’s largest cities, and the nightlife almost seems more energetic than the daylife.

I toured about the city all day. The Verkehrshaus (Transport Museum) was not quite what I hoped: less museumy stuff than I had anticipated. It is very hands on, which would have made this almost as great as Orlando if only I were 15 years younger. This may appeal to railfans… I did my best to snap photos of its rail hardware for my roommate.

The train section had a neat little computer program showing rail access in 1910, 1970, 1997, and a forecast to 2010. Basically you choose a city in Europe (or a few nearby Asian cities) and it shows a color-coded map indicating the distance, in hours, reachable by train. I was confounded when I chose London to find it had apparent access to mainland Europe in pre-Chunnel days, and even more bewildered to find that Ireland has apparently been running trains to the mainland since 1910. I guess the program includes some other transportation modes.

The rest of the museum really felt lacking (good thing it was free with my Swiss Pass). The cars are had a vintage Lamborghini and Ferrari, as well as a lovely NAZI-crafted BMW motorcycle. Seriously, that is one amazing piece of engineering. The planes section had a bunch of engines and some suspended planes, but the helicopters area let me down by its lack of info on the Pedaliante. The sea transport was rather dull, but then again I’m just not as interested in boats unless I’m on one and preferably piloting it. The Swiss Arena was kind of fun: it consists of aerial imagery of the whole country, basically recreating it at a scale of 1:20,000. This may not be too impressive to the Google Earth users of the world, but from the upper catwalk, bend over and peer through the telescopes: it looks 3D.

It occurred to me a week or two ago that the low benches between church pews are not footrests. Of course, I continue to use them as such. I also dab the holy water on my forehead and cheeks to help cool off. My theory is that God wants us to be comfortable and to not put water to waste. …I’ll never fit in as a Catholic. Well, if I’m on the Highway to Hell then, as an engineer, I can at least help it get built.

CH - Meiringen & Trift

My first task for Friday was to travel to Trift, the location of a glacier, a lake, a stream, and – more importantly – a really high pedestrian suspension bridge. Now first, note that transportation to and fro is not the best. Buses from Meiringen to the Triftbahn run infrequently, so check the schedule. Buses departing from Triftbahn are generally hourly, except that my one bus was running 30 minutes late: arriving at the same time as the next bus, running at about 17:00 to pick up the peak hiker traffic. Mind you, it is only a 20 minute trip in total … and the first station of the route is 3 minutes away… how the 16:40 bus was 30 minutes late is beyond me. I’d expect that in Italy, but in the country that practically invented time? Inconceivable!

Then there is the capacity of the cable car itself: 8 people per car, 2 cars, at a 20-minute roundtrip. Fortunately, as I was a solo traveler, I fit in on an ascending car after only waiting about an hour. The descent took a mere 30-minute wait, but that resulted in me just barely missing the 15:40 bus (assuming it arrived) and thus I had to sit around an hour and a half for the next bus. The hike from the base is only about an hour and a half, according to my guidebook, so it may be worth bypassing the lift entirely. Now, all this said, if you take the lift then respect that it is open for use at all: it serves the power station and was not originally intended for tourism.

All the above ranting and I still say that Trift was worth it. So very worth it. The hike itself was lovely: a lot of small bits of rock climbing and on some occasions, the path disappeared entirely. To put it simply: I love sauntering about on rocks. The way between the lift station and the bridge overlook can be done by any able-bodied person, but wear shoes with excellent grip and travel light. From the bridge overlooked down to the bridge and beyond, however, the difficulty changes considerably. To and beyond the bridge, the path is marked with blue and white, indicating intermediate difficulty and some climbing skills required (red/yellow indicates novice trails). The blue/white trail was a blast – I loved it, for as far as I got on it before opting to turn back so-as to ensure I caught the last bus back to Meiringen. If only there were more blue/white trails around.

The bridge itself was very snazzy. Now I should say that I am afraid of heights… not in the sense that I’m paralyzed with fear, but rather that I get this overwhelming urge to jump. It’s pretty much the only part of my own psychology which I just cannot figure out. So basically, just being high up gives me a sweet dose of adrenaline, which is my straight-edge version of cocaine. Now you know why I love climbing trees and why, when on an airplane, my head is pretty much glued to the window. Sometimes I lean over the person in the window seat, if I’m beside them; or I squirm about for a good view if I’m in the aisle seat – setting those in between at unease as I stare intently across their laps with a childish look of excitement blended with ecstasy. So… yeah… the bridge was neat. I ran across it, jumped on it, and tried to swing it back and forth; whereas everyone else just kind of slowly shuffled across one step at a time.

Upon my return, I attempted to get a better view of the Reichenbachfall, which overlooks Meiringen. Alas, I soon discovered that the hiking paths are not very convenient nor do they offer any good views. I thought such anti-hiker setups were unheard of in Switzerland! As best I am aware, the only way to really see the falls is to ride the funicular, which was closed by this point. Just as well: I refuse to pay for something which I can just as easily do myself. This is why I don’t pay to use the bathroom: I can easily pee outside or even on the door to the bathroom, making sure to give the coin-operated lock a good wash of irony. After coming to the harsh realization that the funicular was necessary to see the waterfalls, I decided that I was going to bycott such an arrangement and skip the whole thing. Just as well: I live near enough to Niagara Falls that pretty much the only waterfalls which are going to impress me are Angel and Victoria.

The Aareschlucht (Aare Gorge) was lit tonight and was neat to see. I snapped a couple photos and made my way out. It was quiet cold in there: among my emergence from the gorge it felt that much hotter. Alas, I could only see half the gorge: a gate blocked my way to the Innertkirchen side; why, I do not know. Perhaps that side just doesn’t open for the Wednesday/Friday night openings?

CH - Meiringen

My next stop was only about 15 minutes away, by rail, so I decided to stick around Brienz a bit longer and ride up to the top of the Rothorn. En route, I juggled about with my camera cards to get an inventory of remaining photo space. Result: not much. It was just enough, though, capturing the beautiful view from the trek to, from, and upon the Rothorn.

In Meiringen, my first thought was of how much the downtown reminded me of the downtown of a classic Pennsylvania town, except more vibrant. Makes sense: where I grew up, there is a lot of influence from Swiss Germans. Cars and pedestrians coinhabit this city, which is forced to be compact by the cliffs towering above only hundreds of meters to the north and south.

My hotel, the Parkhotel du Sauvage, is posh: the classiest place I’ll be at this whole trip. It’s where Sir Arthur Conan Doyle once stayed and also where his Sherlock Holmes stayed shortly before the character’s “death” at the nearby Reichenbachfall – which I hope to see tomorrow. Sherlock Holmes’ legacy is very much alive in this tiny community.

The church located on the northern side of town has a pretty clocktower and garden, not to mention the ruins beneath the church which were eerily empty. An sign helps to identify which ruins belong to which time period, and from that it is pretty easy to visualize what the grounds looked like centuries ago.

As part of my hostel stay, I get free access to a local fitness club. I am not one to pass up a whirlpool tub, if offered, and it was too late for any significant excursions, anyway. Upon my arrival, whilst in the men’s locked room, I inspect the prominent warning signs and come up with one conclusion: this is a nude bath. I head back out to the lobby wearing a towel and confirm this, not wanting to emerge naked only to find I’m supposed to have a swimsuit on.

Sure enough, yep I’m supposed to be in the buff. Alright… I’m comfortable enough with my body. I drop the towel and I’m roaming free. Not just that, but I soon confirmed that these baths were co-ed. For the males that must know: nothing spectacular. It was a quiet night and the clientele was a la the mid-day traffic at the Ephrata Rec Center, though the facility attendant was cute in a sort of Uma Thurman-ish way… she seemed to walk through the men’s lockers a bit often, though, not that I am necessarily complaining. I had the whirlpool all to myself for an hour and it was the perfect cure for legs weary after three weeks of hiking about. My two-block walk back to the hotel was as if I was drunk: my legs were like rubber and my mind was as if overdosed on soma.

In my room, I happened upon Les Triplettes de Belleville on TV, partially dubbed into German for the few speaking parts. I had always wanted to see this and am now glad to have had the chance: it is certainly a different movie, and I respect that. It was not at all a kid’s movie, but wasn’t particularly risqué, either. It was just sort of… uniquely French. The animation style is great and the humor is sometimes subtle, sometimes dark, and sometimes slapstick. Definitely worth seeing if you haven’t already.

CH - Brienz

After breakfast, I departed for Schynige Platte (pronounced like an Irish “Shih-nih-gih Plat” rather than my initial thought: “shnikey”), which I knew would be full of tourists right from the start: the train up was packed and some actually did nto make it on. Fortunately, the sheer amount of places to go helped scale the crowds down to an acceptable level. The Alpengarten was pretty, but not as spectacular as I was expecting. I did, however, see and touch Edelweiss right at the entrance to the garden. This was one of my must-do activities for this trip.

The allure of this area lay beyond the garden: the views from the nearby hiking paths were magnificent. While up here, I finally espied the fighter jets I had been hearing frequently echoing about the mountain valleys for the past several days (including a distinctive sonic boom whilst transferring trains in Interlaken, on my first day in the area), buzzing the two seas from their base near Meiringen.

I spent more time on Schynigge Platte than I intended, catching the last boat back to Brienz and therefore missing out on Giessbachfälle – though I did feel that I got a good view from the boat. I dined at a pizzeria en route to my hotel from the train station, where I not only received spectacular service, I also had spectacular pizza. Brienz has been quite the island of hospitality.

Whilst riding the boat back to Brienz, it occurred to me: this is the first place I have ever been to that, geographically, seems to have pretty much everything I want. Mighty mountains such as the Eiger, Mönch, and Jungfrau; beaches along the Thunersee, Brienzersee, and numerous other smaller lakes; small towns such as Gimmelwald linked with major cities via efficient transit; warm summers, snowy winters, and a bit of everything in between through each day of the week. Hey I like a little rain: it cools things down and keeps the landscape green, flowering, and beautiful. The tourist presence can be felt, but it can also be avoided. I can hike, ski, swim, and relax in a café – all in the same day. The Jungfrau region may have just made the top of my list of places I would like to live.

With my shower tonight, I successfully managed to flood the room. Seriously, it was like Britain here… First, the shower curtain was this flimsy little thing that didn’t even close in the open shower area. Second, the pressure coming out of the nozzle brought back memories from Madrid from seven years ago. The pressure was so strong that it pushed the shower head up, pushed me back, and stung when it hit the more sensitive skin. Ahh, it was among the best showers ever: like getting a massage. However, I got out and noticed a shimmer on the floor.

Now, I’ve flooded bathrooms before… heck in the days of my youth, a bath with Mr. Bubble virtually guaranteed a mess outside the tub. Or even sans Mr. Bubble, my G.I. Joes and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles also made for a splashtastic evening. Hey, the G.I. Joes had naval missions: itw as life or death and the bathroom floor was part of the collateral damage of this patriotic and heroic task. So anyways, I step out into a pool rather than a puddle. A moment later I realise I flooded the entry, too, which requires about half an inch depth to overcome the lip of the doorway between the bathroom and the entry. Fortunately, the main room (and carpet) were spared, as the entry did not quire fill up. If I showered for just another minute or two, I bet I could have made it to the carpet. I mopped up a bit with towels, but left the rest for the warm night.

CH - Grindelwald & Brienz

Four nights in the Jungfrau region and so little that I accomplished… I caught a ride up to the First (a mountain gondola station) on this beautiful morning and made my way west to the Bachsee or Bachalpsee or whatever the deuce it’s called (I saw both names on signs and pamphlets). Alas, by the time I got there, the “beautiful morning” had darkened over and I was soon hiking in the clouds and enjoying a refreshing (albeit cold and windy) mountain rain.

Along the way, I identified periodic rumbling sounds as that of recurring avalanches by the Eiger Mountain. It was spectacular to watch: first snow in the glacier at the top would shift and collapse off the main mass. It would then form a “waterfall” of snow down to a large drift about 500 meters below. That, in turn, eventually led into another “snowfall” about 30 seconds later, which dropped about 1000-1500 meters onto various ledges below. The snow finishing another several snowfalls from small ledge to small ledge by ultimately collapsing into a large (read: huge) pile of snow at the bottom, about 2000-2500 meters below – at valley-level and equal altitude to a number of farmhouses. Fortunately the Swiss know not to build too close to mountains! I just hope no one was there to begin with: the past several weeks have experienced avalanche-inducing weather and many lives have recently been lost on the very mountains I have been hiking about.

After getting soaked, I gave Uncle Tom’s Leather Cabin… er, Onkel Tom’s Hütte another try. This is rare, as I usually never again patronize a business after I have been let down previously, but it smelled that good. The Asian server was responsive and pleasant, and the chef – whom I assumed to be Uncle Tom – was quite friendly and funny. Alas, when the second waitress arrived for the lunch rush – whom appeared to be native Swiss and was the same waitress I dealt with last time – things became rather tedious. She moved me from my table – which was right by the oven, next to Uncle Tom, and was quite warm in the now-chilly environment – because the table was “closed.” So my table yesterday was “closed” and now this one is, too? …Even though I have already placed my order and have been chatting with Uncle Tom for ten minutes? Fine… I move to a cold table right by the door and stare at the wall. She gives me three menus… which the more “with it” Asian waitress takes away a few minutes later. It takes an hour for my pizza to arrive, which wouldn’t have been so bad a wait if I weren’t cold and admiring the wood paneling… I missed Uncle Tom, the oven’s warmth, and the sight of pizza being made. At least the pizza was spectacular… if only the service (or server) weren’t the apparently standard fare of Swiss service.

I made way for Brienz but arrived too late to do much. I enjoyed a boat trip there via the Brienzersee, from Interlaken Ost. On this side of the mountains, it was not raining, it was warmer, and there was intermittent sunlight through the cloud-filled sky. After locating my hotel with little problem and checking into my sweet room at the Hotel Lindenhof, I opted for a tour of the small town of Brienz. Not much to it, really: there’s a small commercial center, a lovely lakeside walk, and a number of residential homes likely serving as suburban residences to Interlaken workers. It was neat to watch small scattered showers move about the lake, the haze of rain easily visible against the dark mountain backdrop. I ate dinner at a hotel’s “tea house” just west of the train station, where I had good service and tasty food in addition to a lovely view over the lake.

CH - Grindelwald & Jungfrau

The sun was shining and I immediately made my way for Jungfrau. Alas, on my arrival at the so-called “Top of Europe,” the clouds were localized right on that very area. Wandering about outside, it made it extremely eerie… like standing in a formless void. At a couple moments, there was a fleeting break where I could snap a couple photos, but I was ultimately let down on account of the little pocket of isolated weather.

The plateau offers some neat attractions. At no charge, you can grab a large saucer and slide down the snow, but the hill is very short. For SFr 20, you can ride a lateral zip line for 250m. I would have done it if it were half the price and if the temperature and wind weren’t chilly enough. You can ski for a short distance, but this is quite costly. You can continue hiking along the glacier (a safe path is marked) provided you have something warmer than a light jacket (I didn’t feel like carrying my winter coat whilst hiking at lower altitudes).

The real prize was my hike down from Eiger Gletscher to Wengeralp, where I caught the train to Lauterbrunnen. The scenery, comfort (hot temperatures but a strong cool wind), and the blend of adrenaline-pumping areas and easy downhill strolls – they all made this perhaps the best hike yet (apart from the thrill of seeing my first glacier, back in Fiescheralp).

Upon my arrival in Lauterbrunnen, I learned that the Schilthorn cable car had already closed. I continued back to Grindelwald and contemplated heading up to First to hike back, but it was starting to drizzle and the rapidly thickening clouds were becoming increasingly ominous. I instead grabbed my umbrella from my room and went out in search of dinner.

First stop was Onkel Tom’s Hütte, a pizzeria on the east side of town which continuously smells fabulous. After sitting at a table for 10 minutes and remaining unnoticed by servers, I got up and found out that there was a 135 minute wait for 1 person. Why I couldn’t be served at the table I had been sitting at, I do not know. I also could not take one of the seats outside, which I know full well would go unused the rest of the night. I also could not get takeaway. Well… I tried very hard to give them my business, but they failed to deliver.

I wandered back to town a bit and went to another pizzeria (well actually a full Italian restaurant, but I was just in it for pizza). I was warmly welcomed, quickly seated, and was eating my stupendous Marinara pizza (tomato sauce, garlic, basil, oregano, and a bowl of heavily-spiced olive oil … perfect) in no time. Alas, service went AWOL at about this moment. My nook of seven tables – three total (including me) occupied – being served by three people. However, it took me ten minutes of sitting with my empty plate and glass before I managed to order dessert – a single scoop f ice cream. That arrived 15 minutes later. After finishing my ice cream, it took ten more minute just to ask one of the servers for the bill. Mind you, I was accomplishing all of this in German, whereas the other two tables consisted of Britons and Japanese. Now with 35 minutes of delay already accrued, I awaited my bill. I waited as one of the waiters helped another table. I waited as another waiter leaned on a counter in the other room, visibly bored. I watched as the third waiter hustled and bustled about, serving patrons in other rooms. As time passed, I started tapping my credit card on the table. I started singing softly… then eventually whistling a tune. I tried flicking flies on my table and then the empty one beside me. I contemplated taking off my shirt and wearing my unused saucer like a hat, but it did not quite come to that: after almost thirty minutes, I got my bill and was on my way. Over an hour wasted… if I were outdoors enjoying the scenery, it would have perhaps been OK (assuming the scenery consisted of something better than the less-than-appealing Dorfstrasse). If the town were not an ugly pro-car sprawling tourist trap and instead offered me a pedestrian promenade to enjoy, it may have been OK. Alas, I sat inside and admired the faux-stucco.

The night ended with an early bedtime, with hopes of a sunny morning (though I am not particularly optimistic). Four days in the Jungfrau region and weather disables 3.5 of those days. I will come back here again, someday, as I know it has so much to offer. Next time, however, I will be sure to stay at the Mountain Hostel in rustic Gimmelwald – the mainstream tourists can have Grindelwald to themselves.