Switzerland & The Alps

Being here, in this beautiful, diverse, mountainous nation, has brought me center and restored any faith that I had lost along the way.

It's mysterious and beautiful the way that the world opens up to a person whose heart is open. Between being sick, and alone, I had forgotten to be lovingly open, not just welcomingly open. There is a difference between inviting someone to be your friend, and loving someone whether or not they are invited. My ducks starting lining up in a row when I met my mom in Zurich.

After a day of train travel from Munich, I arrived at the bed and breakfast where my mom had been adjusting her clock for the last 24 hours. A wave of relief swept over me when the door to her hotel room opened and I saw that beautiful smiling face. During our reuniting and meaningful embrace we held on tightly and jumped up and down spinning in circles saying things like, "Weeeeeee," "We're in Switzerland!"

My mom and I will be "weeeeeeee"ing from here on out.

Zurich
A beautiful, atypical, tram-type European city, on the border of a lake with the Swiss Alps sitting happily in the distance. Since one night in Zurich was not really a love story of any kind, and I was lacking quite a bit of energy, our time was spent walking nearby the hotel and seeing the red carpet for the premiere of the annual Zurich International Film Festival. Ignoring the yoga pants and under armour, my mom and I strutted down the red carpet as if we were wearing diamonds and mink fur. And although we weren't staying in town long enough to see some of the well-known names that would come through during the festival, we were able to see Ally Sheedy with her family, and enjoy our own imaginary premiere. The grand debut, at the Zurich Film Festival, starring actresses Mama and Daughter in their award winning, "New England Girls take on the Swiss."

Lucerne (Luzern)
Entering into the lakeside town of Lucerne was an instant romance. The bridges connecting the East and Western parts of the city were adorned with red flowers, and Swiss flags. The buildings had uniquely cherry-topped steeples and were close to the water's edge where people sat on steps feeding gorgeous white swans. On the western side of the lake was a hill steep enough so that buildings and roads zigzagged alongside. Just off across the water from the train station, staring into the eyes of the Alps, was our hotel.

It has been such a blessing to be able to stay in a room with only my mama, and not a number of strangers who snore, and fart in their sleep, or don't sleep at all but move around their bags packing and unpacking all night - so loudly that earplugs dont make a bit of difference. Such a relief to be taken care of and loved by one of the biggest forces of love in my life. Such a blessing to have a shower with hot water, and for it to be my decision whether the lights are on or off for me.

The hotel was beautiful, and friendly and because of the steep hill, there was an elevator/tram that brought us from the hotel down to three other hotels, and down to the main street that follows along the lakes edge.

My mom was so happy to be with me and to be in Switzerland and to have all of these miraculous blessings, that she skipped down the hall, throwing her arms carelessly in the air as she gazelled her way from the stairs to the room like a school girl's first day of summer vacation. I wish I filmed it. Her happiness is radiating and contagious.

Mt Titlis
On our first full day in Lucerne, we left for a day trip to one of the nearby Alpine mountains called Mt. Titlis. The tour guide who was bringing us to the mountain, was introduced over the intercom - several times - as the "guide for the Titlis people," and the "Titlis guide."

Only my mom and I laughed. New England girls are trilingual in English, sarcasm, and dirty jokes.

I knew nothing about traveling up these mountains, other than - dress warm! First we took a bus to the base of a tram. Then, the tram took us at a steady incline up to another base. There we entered a line of Thai, Chinese and Indians waiting to go onto what looked like a ski lift. The lifts, however, were Ferris Wheel-like carriages that took up to 4 people several stops, higher and higher for thousands of feet. The white top of the mountain was close at hand! After zigzagging through the station where the ferris-ski-lift went through an array of turns and pully systems, we jumped off and entered another lift-carriage. This one, the size of a subway or tram car, squeezed in as many as 50 people into a rectangular space leaving only hanging wristlets to hold onto for balance. Afterwards, we went through one more station before getting onto a rapidly inclining, and rotating circular car, similar to the last.

Now we take a deep breath. We are at 3,238m (10,600ft)

We walked up the stairs and out to the plateau of snow on top of, what was now, a glacier. Making sure to move slowly, since at this altitude - and having ascended within only an hour - I felt my heart thumping and the need to catch my breath more frequently. 

Please note: My mother and I are both scared of heights.

But it was no time to be scared. I'm learning more and more through my travels, that there is no such thing as fear or evil. Since God/The Universe/Higher Power (whatever you call Her) is the Supreme Being, there cannot be any counter supremacy. Evil can only be created from fear, worry, stress, and negativity. We make it. Trust in God means, literally, nothing can go wrong because it is in the name of Perfect Goodness. And even wrong means that we have a plan or an idea of what is right rather than trusting in Gods plan or idea.

So, for the first time in my life, I trusted God to take care of me in a way that made all of my fears stop existing. And this is what I got in return.  

My mom and I went on a ski lift with our legs hanging at 10,000ft. We went on a panorama catwalk, wobbling and bouncing all the way. We had the time of our lives throwing snowballs and walking through the igloo caves inside the glacier!

We were fearless, and flawless. We were told by several engineers on the mountain that the sun was bright and strong for the first time in two months - a reflection of us. We are bright and strong... Particularly my mom.

Now that we were fearless, the dangling cars on lifts rapidly declining thousands of feet down the mountain became fun. We "weee'd" and "wooo'd" on every dip and dive until we finally reached the bottom.

I caught a cold from the elevation and contrasting climates, but nothing a little rest and Mother Daughter Time couldn't cure. Nothing I didn't automatically love just because I got to have this breathtaking experience and be where I was. 

Interlaken

The day after our Mt Titlis adventure, the itinerary was to move on to a town that literally is called "Between the Lakes" in German. I insisted to my mother before leaving Lucerne, that we had to hand feed the swans on the lake nearby the train station. So after an hour of hand feeding and petting swans (I was even bitten by one who thought my finger was bread) we headed to the quaint town between the lakes.

Interlaken was much like a seaside New England home. 5,000 inhabitants, and 5,000 tourists during their busy season. Full of Edelweiss themed shops, Swiss watches galore, and local Swiss foods. In case I didn't mention it before, edelweiss is a beautiful white flower that grows throughout the Alps in Austria, Germany, Switzerland, France, and Italy - and its also a song sung in the Sound of Music. 

The Swiss foods were interesting because of the farming, cheese, and survive-at-whatever-cost lifestyle/history in the Alps. I even sadly, but triumphantly, ate a horse meat stroganoff with rösti (hash browns). A bit gamey like buffalo or near-raw steak, but not like moose or deer.

I love horses. I even went to horseback-riding camp once as a kid. I think one taste is enough for a lifetime for me.

Jungfraujoch

On one of our days in Interlaken, mom and I journeyed our way up to the top of a mountain known as "the Top of Europe" at 3,591m (11,782ft). The name of the mountain was Jungefraujoch and is the only accessible climate research station year-round in Europe.

It was the highest altitude I had ever been to, and only 4,000ft shy of the highest mountain in Europe - Mont Blanc.

I hiked Mount Monadnock in New Hampshire this past summer - it took 6 hours and was 965m (3,166ft). The altitude of Interlaken between the Alpine Mountains was 1,300m (4,265ft). And from there was our starting point to Jungefraujoch.

Different from Titlis, the journey up to the JungeFrau (meaning Young Lady) was much smoother. The tracks originally took 20 years to build and were finished in 1911. We were taken on several different old fashioned trains along the mountain through remote ski towns. First changing trains at 7,000ft and then again at 9,000 ft. The ride made for breathtaking views and a relaxed atmosphere, with lots of photography.

At the top, mom and I breathed deeply and went to all of the decks where we could see the panoramic views around us.

It was a majestic view of something touched by the hand of God. It did not look like vanilla ice cream! Unless your vanilla ice cream is made with the breath of life and the flavor of heaven.

Afterward, I walked through what I called the 'Ice Zoo.' A long cave, or igloo, of ice with ice statues of bears, penguins, wolves, eagles, and a random overly sized carving of Sherlock Holmes. Afterward, with the little energy we had left, I guided my mom through the tunnels of the mountain to the "snow fun" area. By the time we hiked there I had lost most of my energy. Hiking a few miles at that elevation felt almost like the end of a day after climbing Mount Monadnock. I wanted a hot bath and a long nap.

Just over the entrance of the cave where we exited to see the plateau of snow sports on top of the mountain, there was a zipline from 11,000ft down to the tobogganing hill. My concern wasn't at all heights at this point, but I was feeling drained and out of breath (I also had a bald cold). So I encouraged my mom to enjoy zip-lining for the first time in her life. I would have deeply regretted the decicion to bow-out if it hadn't been for a previous zip-lining adventure two years ago in the Dominican Republic.

Mom was totally up for the challenge. She is fearless!

I videoed her wild ride, and cheered her on, as she screamed (with joy, not fear) down the wire. First, waving furiously at me, then screaming loudly and holding on tight as she sped up, and then sliding on her bottom through the snow at the end.

I was a proud daughter! I yelled, "Yeah, mama!" And the woman next to me turned and said, "That's your mother?"

This time after leaving the top of the Alps, I suggested we stop at 7,000ft to adjust for a little while and have dinner. There we ate really interesting food. One was a pizza made of thick Swiss cheese (the kind that tastes like creamy mild Swiss, not like the kind with holes in it) and instead of pizza on bread it was made on top of a rösti. A pancake of a hash brown made into pizza = röstizza. Better than any pizza I ever had. While mom ate that, I had good ol'Swiss mac and cheese with a few twists. For instance, someone of pure genius decided to throw in a dollop of sour cream, bacon, and warm applesauce.

From there, mom and I both developed a good amount of coughing and sinus fits before we moved on to Geneva. Altitude can really do a number on ya if youaren't  prepared. I have altitude medication for trekking in the Hamilayas, and in case I hike Macchu Picchu, but it never occurred to me that I might use it in the Alps.

Geneva

It was for that reason that, after spending a few hours of sightseeing in Geneva, that we would spend the rest of the time resting. So in between French food and fondue, we sipped tea, read, and rested to our hearts content.

It didn't take a lot of effort for me to fall in love with Geneva anyway. Its more of a melting pot than London, more of an internationally political powerhouse than Stockholm, and more of a humanitarian mecca than Oslo (where the Nobel Peace  Prize Center is). I got to see the home of one of the most famous U.N buildings, called "the U.N Palace" and cruise around Geneva at leisure, taking it all in.

Geneva is such a various combination of cultures that it solidifies Switzerland's place in my book of naturally beautiful, authentic, and adventurous cultures. They are one step ahead in humanitarianism, eco-friendly lifestyles, and new-wave politics (compared to the Europe I've seen so far).

I find that in some countries people are extra friendly with tourists, some are extra pushy with tourists, and some want to stay away from tourists all together. Switzerland seemed to be the latter. Of course, people working in tourism are usually friendly no matter the country, because in the end, they get paid because of you and poor hospitality management can ruin individual jobs or effect their city's overall economy. So where there are tourist attractions there are friendly locals, or so it went in Switzerland. Privately owned small shops are always the exception. But certainly the landscape and possibilities of sports adventures make the country comparable to Norway, or anywhere else with glaciers, alpines, or fjords. It really was breathtaking.

From what I saw, most of Switzerland has a Swiss-German culture. I encountered an Oktoberfest here and there, and lots of pride in traditional or local music. In the south, where the Swiss Alps turn into Italian and French, the culture becomes Swiss-French. In fact, some Swiss-Germans told me that they don't like the French influence. People understood German when I spoke it, but even when I said 'gezundheit' to someone who sneezed on the train, the response was "merci." For that reason, it was interesting to travel from one end of the country to another, and - without crossing boarders - to feel as though I passed through time zones on ancient railways, and through cultures without even batting an eye.

Although Geneva had a splendid mixture of French, Italian, Spanish and German, it was still thoroughly Swiss. On our final night of Swiss travel before heading to Lyon, France for a day, my mom and I enjoyed a traditional Swiss meal. We went to a hotel called Edelweiss. At the restaraunt we ate in a log-cabin-esque two story room complete with yodelers and talented musicians who played at least half a dozen authentic instruments. My mom and I even got to give an old-college-try at playing the alpinehorn during one of the songs. The alphorn is a hollow wooden instrument made of spruce and bound together by birch bark. It looks like a really long trumpet (10 to 13 ft) and is played by blowing into a single mouthpiece - the one all of the yodelers are pictured playing on Ricola boxes and in commercials. Originally it was used by shephards.

At the Edelweiss, we ate fondue with hot oil, which was fascinating. The raw steak, duck, and chicken came out on a thin stone slab that was ice cold in order to keep it fresh. Stabbing a small cube of meat at a time, we essentially fried our own food right at the table and then dipped it into one of the assortments of sauces. I only know of one fondue place in New England, and it's a chain restaurant called The Melting Pot. No oil fondue there. 

The food was great, but the Alps were definitely the highlight. Every day was perfect.

The song Edelweiss is slow and sweet, and sort of gives the feeling like we should all lock arms and sway side to side as we sing the chorus together... and thats what the Alps were like to me. Mountains on mountains, arm and arm, filled with towns of populations in the thousands, who live there year-round and just get it. They get the struggle of being the only resource for hours and miles in harsh weather (or any weather). They understand the honor of escorting a herd of bell-ringing cows down from the mountains before the winter months hit. They are proud of their instruments that they can make themselves from trees in the forrest, and the authentic music that comes with them. And they work hard at providing for the community no matter what it takes.

Among the Swiss are some tough-as-nails mountainous pioneers.

All in all, Switzerland was one of the most awe-inspiring regions I had ever seen, with the exception of Geneva (which I loved because of combing cultures, not landscape). Whether Geneva or the Alps, I would go back sooner than a yodelay-hee-hoo.