Grindelwald and beyond

Well, I told you so -- to everyone who was not convinced that it would be a cold wet day. For once the weather maps proved to be right. Looking outside, I see that it is very cold and very wet.

What to do? Anticipating a slow day, much of it spent inside (the hotel has a sauna... maybe I should bake in the sauna all day long? The hotel has a laundry room ... maybe I should do my laundry? The hotel has a small library... maybe I should read their books?) I moved slowly. 

 

 

 

Down for breakfast on the late side, eating less because I'll be doing less...

Lingering over a third cappuccino (they're small!) and then a chamomile tea, I'm wondering if the sole activity for this day will be the museum across the street. It looks closed, but maybe they do open, and maybe there's something there to see?

I approach one of the hotel staff members. Andras. He's the one who pointed me to that gorgeous walk in the forest on my very first day. I ask him -- any suggestions for this day?

That depends -- do you want culture, or nature?

I hesitate -- maybe a walk in the forest? It will be less wet there, no?

He is a devoted nature guy, but he doesn't quite buy it. It's pretty wet out there. And then -- have you ever been to Thun?

Of course, I haven't. At least I've heard of it -- it's a larger town -- of maybe around 50 000, positioned at the neck of a large lake by the same name. Andras, my "personal concierge for the day," (in this hotel, everyone on the team does every job, switching around as the need arises) outlines a plan for me. Black Sharpee pen in hand, he takes out maps and starts drawing arrows, marking "x" spots where needed, listing options.

Wow. It all sounds amazing. All I have to do is go upstairs, pack a daypack of essentials (umbrella! gloves! the maps!) and buy a ticket for the trains. 

Have you ever tried to buy a ticket on the SBB (Swiss Rail) site? It's at once easy and impossible. So many options! There are day passes. But limited in number. There are half fare cards. There are flex passes for three days. There is so much out there and clicking through it all you inevitably wind up on square one, without any idea which option fits your needs best.

After a few minutes spent trying to figure out the best way to get to Interlaken and from there to Thun, and then back again, given that the return could well be a combo of trains, buses and boats (I kid you not), I decide to go for the easiest -- just buy an RT to Thun and then play the idiot that I am, if a conductor tells me that I messed up. 

And now I see that the train for Interlaken is leaving in ten minutes. From the station that is a 17 minute walk from my hotel. Andras! Please please please.... I did not have to insert so many pleases. The people here are so nice and they always, always go the extra mile for you. If they wont do it, then you know you've asked the impossible.

I catch the train to Interlaken Ost. 

 

 

 

(leaving the damp valley)

 

Arriving Interlaken Ost! Ha! The source of my initial confusion in coming here: there is a station at Interlaken Ost. It's where you want to be if you're traveling to Grindelwald. You, in your German language ignorance,  think that means Interlaken West, but it doesn't -- it means East. The other station is just called ... Interlaken West. You pass it on the way to Ost. When the announcer says "Interlaken West," the way they say it, it sounds awfully much like "Interlaken Ost." All very disconcerting when you're arriving for the first time.) From Ost, I follow the black sharpee pen's arrows, keeping my eyes and my umbrella open.

But it is chilly. I'm wearing a light sweatshirt and my medium winter jacket. It's okay if I'm moving. Chilly when I'm not. Damn it, I have the perfect hoodie hanging in the closet. An added layer. Just thinking of it makes me feel cozy. Momentarily. Sigh... I best splurge. I want that toasty feeling to be with me all day long. I'm just coming off a sinus issue, I dont want to invite a return of it.

I go into the nearest store. A big one -- their Co-op, which sells foods, but not only.

(heated discussion: do we buy white or green?)

 

 

No women's clothing i this place. I leave and keep on walking. 

 

 

It may be wet, but it sure is lovely here. Small, quiet. Andras calls it a village. That's a bit of an exaggeration, but I take his point -- it's not city-like at all.

I come across an upscale souvenir store (upscale in that it's not dirt cheap). I go in and purchase a sweatshirt. 

 

 

 

Touristy? Sure. It' says INTERLAKEN on it. Big white letters. And it being Switzerland, it costs as much as a wool sweater would back home, but the fact is, back home I wear sweatshirts about ten times as often as I wear sweaters. And this one is so warm, so so deliciously warm...

Back on the streets now.

 

 

Interlaken itself is of course rather empty. I'm outside the tourist season, and it is a rainy day -- enough to clear out the streets. But it's pretty, in a grand dame sort of way. I can see that it is after the moneyed traveler. The opulent hotels, the sudden appearance of expensive watches in the window. Like in Zurich, on a smaller scale.

 

 

 

The black sharpee directs me to the other side of the river and I go there now -- so quiet and pretty! Stroll with me!

(street art I like...)

(do I envy them their clear clean water? so much I do!)

And now I have just enough time to pause for a cup of take-out tea (that delicious Swiss fruit blend!) to have with me on the train ride to Thun.

 

 

(out the window: Lake Thun)

This time there is a conductor and he does check my smart phone to see if my ticket aligns with where I am going. I wait to hear that I bought the wrong thing. Oh, I see him shaking his head! He hands back the phone -- next time, he says -- you need to show a photo ID with the ticket. Danke! 

 

There are castles, old towns, wooden covered bridges, yes, all that in Thun. And there is a chocolate shop (best chocolate in Switzerland!) and an excellent ice cream store (the sharpee noted the flavors to try!). So how do I begin?

Well, my first impression is that Thun feels and is considerably bigger than Interlaken, and it has more traffic and more locals out and about. It's not really raining here, though the clouds are low and the threat is there.

I fight the impulse to compare further. I know I am drawn these days to smaller, quieter places and I dont want to dismiss Thun merely because of its size. I look around me -- well, the first thing I need to do is get away from the station which is big and busy. I check with my Sharpee pal: go toward the river, cross, walk around there. Look at castles. Okay, I'm off.

I do get distracted by a market. It's not a food market but one of those "everything else" markets that seems a little geared toward Easter shoppers maybe? Or trinket shoppers. 

I leave it to cross the river.

I spot the ice cream shop immediately. I suppose it's almost time for my lunch coffee! 

Pistacchio and salted caramel.

(outside: a good way to pass the time while the grownups talk forever)

 

 

(outside: I really think the seniors here are very serious)

 

 

I walk up into the old town. Cobbled streets, pedestrian blocks. Elevated sidewalks, many more stalls with nick nacks.  

 

 

 

I pause at one stall. I'm not really looking to buy, but I do like small beaded one and I tell her how pretty it is.

How we got from there to the state of America right now -- this I do not remember. Suffice it to say that I found myself explaining to her that yes, there have been arrests of students, foreign students who expressed a view not in line with our current leadership.

I don't believe it! -- she says. Except that it's true. I find myself fighting tears. Can you leave? At least for now? -- she asks. Of course I cannot and will not. Until it becomes impossible to continue. She reaches over to her plate of stones and gives me one -- pink, smooth. It's for you. Keep it. Pink means love. There is always joy in that.

 

 

 

I walk on. To the square now where a "bunny" is handing out chocolate eggs. He gives it to a kid, then comes over to me, and says something I do not understand. Rather than asking anything, I take the candy and smile. Danke.

 

 

And now I think I have done enough town walking, visiting, looking. I head back to the station, remembering to pause at one last place marked in big letters by the Black Sharpee: Steinmann's, the "best chocolate in Switzerland." (How often have I heard that claim?) 

 

(serious)

 

 

I pick up just a few loose pieces for the kids for Easter. I'm sure it will taste the same to them as chocolate you may have picked up at the gas station back home, but still, it has meaning. Swiss chocolate from Thun. The town with a heart.

 

It would have been lovely to take the boat back to Interlaken (as the Sharpee had suggested), but that would have had me run around town trying to figure out and coordinate schedules. And I felt fairly confident that my rail ticket would not work on a boat (though in Switzerland, you never know). And so I merely take the train back, connecting in Interlaken, arriving in Grindelwald in the very late afternoon.

Dinner tonight is at a place called Cafe 3692. It sounded very good, but it has a problem: its position is off the main road and it will take me at least 20 minutes to walk there according to Google maps. Normally, that is not an issue for me, but on a cold wet day, walking from along unfamiliar roads in the rain at 10 pm sounds daunting. I spell out my concerns. No problem. We can drive you over there and when you're done, just tell Miriam at the restaurant to call me and we'll pick you up. This on their busiest night at the hotel restaurant. 

It is that kind of a hotel.

I immediately backtrack: Let me do the walk there. I'll find my way with Google. I'll call you for that ride back. 

Okay! 

I'm sure not going to be late for anything anymore! Promptly at 7:40 p.m. I set out. But here's the thing: you don't follow a road to get there by foot. You follow a path. Up the hill, from behind the hotel. In the dark.

 

 

I almost turned back and begged for that ride, but then I thought -- no, if they think I can do it, then of course I can do it, because I think I can do more than they give me credit for. 

My iPhone was indispensable, both for finding the path and for providing me with a flashlight. It is a dark night! The trick is to watch your step, and watch the screen too. It's way too easy to slip, trip and fall. How do I know? Because I did it! One oops and I'm on a grassy, muddy embankment. My camera survived, my pants got dirty. I continue, promising myself that I will call for a ride home.

And of course, I don't call.  Having done it once, I know I can do it again, and besides it will be downhill now. And the woman at the Cafe 3692 didn't bat and I when I said I'm on my way to find that path again.

Possibly knowing that Americans freak out when alone in the dark, she reassures me -- you'll be safe here. Enjoy the walk! They all do have confidence in seniors managing physical challenges. And that's such a cool thing!

And the food? Oh, they do have a very, very good cook at the Cafe. Most dishes are meat based and I chose venison because, well, coming from Wisconsin, I've learned that deer hunts are needed to keep the stock healthy. So, deer, over beef or lamb.

 

 

Exceptionally delicious! With a wild mushroom sauce that is to die for. And spätzle! Those weird twists of eggy noodles! I haven't had them since I made them for my family many decades ago, on my Swiss foods cooking kick. (Oh, but my rösti was good, too!) 

On my (dark and wet but otherwise uneventful) walk back, I thought how each day here has been completely different, in terms of walks, weather, hikes, food. And each has been excellent. Much of the credit for this goes to the hotel people. So impressed am I with their work here that I wrote a Tripadvisor review even before I left. Tonight. These guys can do no wrong. An amazing crew.

Tomorrow... I have no idea about tomorrow! I'm still digesting this day!

with love.

Grindelwald

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...