It's no use. Making plans here is impossible. Reality does not match the information provided. I glance at the weather report for this morning. I'm told it's sunny. I look outside -- what are they talking about? I see clouds!
Then I turn my gaze toward the view of the church. Oh....! I see the summit of Fleischerhorn! The hotel's name translates to "Fleicherhorn view." This is why!
But not for long. The summit disappears behind the clouds very quickly.
At breakfast, I study the forecasts, the maps, the sheets printed out at home. Between bites of delicious food.
[Every day, at about the time I come down for breakfast, the construction workers -- I think those who are working on the roof of the parental hotel next door -- come in and they put in their order for coffee. I like a cappuccino -- one says. They are served anything they request. They cant be Swiss -- they communicate with the hotel staff in English. All I can think is how respectfully they are treated here. I can't imagine our construction crews being invited for a cappuccino break on the house back home.]
Eva, who is an integral member of the family team that runs this place, comes up to my table. I have an excursion for you for today! (Her ideas are so good -- she is the one who gave me yesterday's walk -- that I listen with utmost care.)
It wont be a quiet place. There will be some people. But today is the day for it.
I see the issue here: if I just roam the Grindelwald valley, I will miss out on the true Alpine experience. I'll see some of the tall mountains, but most will be hidden from view. This is what happens when a tall one is that close to where you live -- you can't see much of what's behind. Add to it the problem of low lying clouds and you have what I had for two days -- views of the valley, views of the mountain base, but no real sense of the magnificent peaks that are the defining characteristic of the Alps.
But, but, isn't it cloudy up there? Because it sure is cloudy down here.
Eva shows me how to really look at the weather. You go to the webcam, not to the weather forecast. We look together: it may be cloudy down here, but there's sunshine higher up! At the moment. (Famous last words.)
It's also colder "up there." There is snow on the ground. People are skiing. I change my clothes to the warmest that I have and I head out.
This is how it works: I need to take the gondola up to the so called First summit (at 2184m/7165ft; the village of Grindelwald is at 1034m/3392ft). From there, you can hike over to Bachalpsee -- a lake at an elevation of 2265m/7431ft.
Here's what I have going for me: since it is the low low season, there are no crowds. I go up to the gondola, buy a ticket, get into a cabin and zip up. Yes, there are a few skiers that ride up for the snow up there, and there are a few visitors who want to "experience" the First's star attraction: it's called the First Walk and it's a narrow metal path (with a railing of course) that hugs a cliff, so that you can get a total panic attack in midair as you navigate the sheer drop. Everyone wants to do it!
A light digression: by "everyone" I mean mostly Asian visitors. This is whom I see in Grindelwald. A few Swiss, a few other Europeans, lots of Asian guests. Conspicuously absent? Americans. We've buried our faces in shame. We dont have many vacation days anyway. Nor do we have secure nest eggs as our savings are being depleted as we speak.
So, up I go to the First. The gondola ride is long and I get to watch the scenery change from the windows of the small cabin: from patchy snow...
... through the clouds, to a snow covered terrain.
In my gondola cabin, I have two couples heading up to ski. German speaking. Maybe Swiss, maybe German, maybe Austrian, maybe from Lichtenstein for all I know. But what's interesting to me is that they look.... my age. On my hike today too, I will pass a handful of solo German speaking seniors. I think they like to come for the exercise, for the views, in this month when everyone is done with winter travel to the Alps.
Now, about the weather: in the two and a half hours I spend up on the hiking trails, I see it all: full clouds, partial clouds, no clouds, clouds on some summits but not others, clouds everywhere, clouds on the trail so thick that I cannot see anything at all.
It is all very dramatic!
And beautiful.
Once again, let me show you my walk through photos.
I leave behind the small accumulation of visitors, here for the First Walk (do you see the walk around the cliff, culminating in a balcony "over nothing?" Would you feel it to be fun? Not me!).
After an initial slushy ascent, my trail is very packed down and solid. Easy to navigate. Which is a good thing, as I did not bring my shoe cleats. Who knew I'd be walking in snow!
The view changes from minute to minute...
The trail goes up, the trail goes down, then up again. The clouds shift.
My path goes over slabs of snow that look like they're about to break away and form a new republic! (See that wee person on the trail with her dog? The wee person is actually around my age and she passed me with wicked speed!)
(the trail is to the far right, Grindelwald is below the clouds)
(the trail continues, visible again to the right of the photo)
I pass this one senior doing... I don't know what. But he has the essentials! Walking sticks and a teddy bear!
I have no idea what this speck of a person (in the middle of the photo below) is doing, but he or she is definitely off trail!
(looking back...)
The lake at last. Slushy and inaccessible. (There is a sign that basically says DANGER.) It took me over an hour to get here. And I'm so glad I did! It's such a stunning landscape.
Selfie time!!
Those sun glasses saved me. The light up here is piercing!
I turn around and head back.
There's my trail! To the left this time. Does it look to you like the clouds have grown denser?
Ummmm, where am I?? Thank goodness for the purple sticks. It's easy to feel disoriented in the clouds.
Phew. Glad to be out of the clouds. They felt rather ghostly...
Time to go down. I have the gondola all to myself this time. And where have the clouds gone? I have no idea.
By 2:30 I am down again and very ready for a coffee break! The gondola depot is right next to Grindelwald's best coffee roaster -- a lovely place called Eiger Bean. The sun is out, I buy a piece of plum cake to go with the latte and I take it all outside.
This is when life feels so good! Face the sun on a March day, enjoy a coffee, a cake, mmmmm!
And here's the thing: Grindelwald looks really beautiful against the now more visible mountain peaks.
I ask one of the hotel brothers -- how long would you have to stay to be guaranteed sunshine? Because if you come for three days and it's cloudy, well, it will still be beautiful, but it will be exponentially more beautiful if the clouds recede.
He thinks about it -- depends. In March, things change quickly, so you never know. Maybe five days?
I think about all those visitors up on the First Walk. I am certain most are not here for more than a couple of days. Lucky are those who are here today!.
Just to get a sense of how different it all is, depending on the weather -- remember the first picture I posted yesterday, from my walk? The one still in town, with the closed daffodils? Here's the same house, the same field of daffodils, but now with the fully visible mountain behind it:
In the evening, I go down to Onkel Tom's Hutte. Again, I'm just following the brothers' bookings for me. I deeply appreciate the fact that they put some thought and variety into this. Onkel Tom's is casual and in the high season it would be tough to plan on a meal here (they frown on reservations). And even today, the 8 tables are packed solid (locals come out of the woodwork when the holiday crowds diminish). But, it's a family run place and somehow my hotel family called the Hutte restaurant family and I got a seat for dinner.
(She is definitely part of the Hutte family. So friendly and kind to me, even as I'm from that side of the ocean...)
Onkel Tom's is a pizza place but as they explain (on the menu), they are not a fast food pizzeria. They take great pride in creating a pizza for you. And what I also love is that they have salads. Large ones, made with the European lettuces that never seem to sag under a dressing. Ed and I eat huge (and I mean huge) salads every day and I miss these when I travel. It's nice to indulge in one tonight.
(my own pizza -- it's called a small, but it is hardly small!)
As I eat my salad and my pizza (both so delicious!), I think about Primrose, my Chicago grandgirl. It's her birthday today -- a fact that would be hard to forget when I am in Europe. I call her Primrose after all, because when she was born, I was in Paris and the city was filled with blooming primroses. Hard to believe that that was a good many years ago! I'm sending love across the ocean, but I"ll see you soon sweet child! Happy happy birthday!
(my favorite photo of primroses here, in Grindelwald)
Though the weather forecasts for Grindelwald have changed dramatically from day to day, one thing has remained constant -- the prediction for rain tomorrow. We'll see how that goes! I suppose a price must be paid for a string of lovely days!
with love...
