Beth and Mark's Gap Year 2014: August 2014

Thursday 21 August 2014

Golden Pass back to Germany August 11th to August 21st

So our big walking trip is done. Our next big excursion is cycling from Bruge to Paris starting on 23rd August. Until then we are doing some touristy things around Switzerland and Germany, and also taking the opportunity to catch up with Candice. I have mentioned before that Beth and I tend to like travelling by train in Europe. It is not that we have a nerdy fascination with trains, it is just safer than driving (I would not trust myself with this right hand side of the road thing), and you get to see more than if you fly. Some time ago Beth read about a train trip in Switzerland called type Golden Pass Line and decided we needed to do it. It basically takes us from Montreux back through the country we just walked through. There are tourist trains which run regularly on this line and have panoramic viewing cars or classical old wooden carriages and cost a small fortune to travel on, but here are also the normal regional trains which run on the same tracks providing exactly the same views, and hauled by exactly the same locomotives, but at a fraction of the tourist train costs. The Swiss use these trains, and we decided for a few days we would be Swiss not tourists.

Whilst we still have wifi in Saanen we carefully plan the route to our hotel in Montreux. My German Vodafone works for calls in Switzerland, but not for data, so it is important to get a snapshot of the Google map instructions from the railway station to the hotel. On our last trip to Eurooe we printed all this stuff out before we left, but this time half our hotels we have booked whilst we are on the road (either ini Australia or Europe), so we haven't bothered with paper at all, and so far that is all working fine. We only have one night in Montreux, so we leave Saanen pretty early to make sure that we have enough time to check out some of Montreux's sights. As we get on the train we realize that this is the exact line we will be tavelling on the next day, which means we get to enjoy part of the experience twice.

The trip down into Montreux (which is on the Lake Geneva shore) is quite amazing as it involves switching back and forwards across the mountains and down towards the lake. The views of course are sensational, but the strangest thing is that some of these switchbacks happen in tunnels, so you go into the tunnel with a view of he lake on your left, and exit the tunnel with the lake on your right. A very strange sensation. Montreux is only a small city (25,000 people), but much bigger than we had been used to over the past couple of weeks, so it took us just a little while to adjust to being jostled at train stations again. The other thing we hadn't done for a couple of weeks is lug our suitcases around, so the obligatory European railway station stairs are ensuring that our upper bodies are now getting a bit of a workout as well as our legs.

After checking into our hotel (not in the best part of town, but comfortable, close to everything and decent wifi) we head out to do what we can in one afternoon in Montreux. The obvious main attraction of Montreux is the lake, so after checking out the town centre a little (including the statue of Freddie Mercury, who seems to have quite liked this town), we decide to take a walk about 4km out along the lake to the 12th century Chillon Castle (half price entry with our guest card). We then caught the bus (free with our guest card) to the neighboring old city of Vevey, about 5 Km out the other side of Montreux, where we wandered quite aimlessly, but happily (well Beth was happy, I am led to believe that I was actually a little grumpy - probably because a bit of a cold I had developed a few days earlier wasn't really improving). After seeking out the local Co-op to buy something for dinner, we caught the bus back to our hotel. I don't think that I have mentioned the Co-op before. This is a supermarket chain found throughout Switzerland. They are generally quite small, but carry a fantastic range of freshly made salads and nice breads at relatively reasonable prices. The Co-op has been the source of quite few lunches and hotel room dinners over the last couple of weeks. It may not sound a lot, but we actually squeezed quite a bit into the afternoon and landed back at the hotel quite weary. Perhaps we have overstated this hiking caper, and there is actually more exercise in being a basic tourist.

Interlaken is our next stop on the Golden Pass, and after zigzagging back up through the mountains and retracing our steps of the previous day, we head for the small town of Zweissemen, where we have to change trains. The transfer time is over an hour, so we decide to take our suitcases for a little walk around town, where we find a nice little cafe advertising coffee and cake. Needless to say we could not resist, so with suitcases piled up around our table (prime position ,with a view - which caused disdainful glances from some of the locals who had to take up lesser seats), we enjoyed one of the more pleasant such treats of our holiday thus far. Back onto the train and it whisks us to Interlaken, which is nestled between 2 lakes (surprising that) and only 30 Km from where we started our walk. Interlaken is also quite small with only about 5,000 permanent residents. But the permanent tourist population probably swells that to 25,000, so it is quite a bustling place.

The weather is most unkind to us after we arrive, and our activities are pretty much restricted to window shopping (I have never seen so many watches in my life), planning tomorrow's activities and eating dinner at a Mexican Restaurant (strange choice you say - yes, but it was the hotel restaurant, there was a discount, and going anywhere else meant a certain drenching). Beth told me that if it was the good day tomorrow that was forecast, she was keen to visit Heidi Klum, which we could do half price with our guest card. Naturally I was quite enthusiastic. That enthusiasm only dulled a little when she showed me the picture, not of Heidi Klum, but of Harder Kulm, a high view point above the town.

The next day was quite beautiful, so after breakfast, we decided that we would leave our cases at the hotel and spend the morning looking at Interlaken and taking the funicular up to Harder Kulm. Interlaken really is a gorgeous town, and the fact that it is infested by tourists only detracts from this beauty a little. It has an idyllic setting amongst lakes and mountains, and the town has lots of gardens cobbled streets and interesting architecture. Not quite as magical as Grindelwald but getting there. I think that Interlaken is a wonderful destination in its own right but the bulk of tourists use it as a base for their forays into the nearby Alps.

The funicular ride up to Harder Kulm puts all others we have encountered so far to shame. It is quite steep obviously, but also quite a long ascent, taking you up about 800m over a 1.2km journey. Once up the top you wander around the mountain to a restaurant (of course) and the Harder Kulm lookout, which is a pulpit built out from the rocks giving you a spectacular view of Interlaken and the mountain ranges beyond. This was particularly interesting for us, because we could see in one long vista all the mountains we had walked amongst during the past two weeks. True to form though, it was a beautiful day, but bothersome little clouds around some of the mountain tops prevented me from getting a photo of all these magnificent peaks exposed. Coffee and cake at the restaurant, and then time to head back down, collect our suitcases and head for the Bahnhof (it was the Gare in Montreux). We pop into the Co-op near Interlaken Ost railway station for a bite of lunch and spend only about 12 francs on a feast of bread and fruit. Still not cheap, but much better than we have encountered to date. The 1.5 litre bottle of iced tea was one fifth the price of our jug of tap water at Saanen. A beautiful place where you can afford to eat. Interlaken definitely goes onto the list of places worth coming back to.

The train ride from Interlaken to Lucerne is very nice again, and to our surprise we passed through another town that we had visited on our walk (Meiringen of Sherlock Holmes fame). In no time at all we are descending towards Lake Lucerne and it is time for us to farewell the Alps for now. Lucerne surprised me enormously. I expected an austere, grey town without much soul, but I could not have been further from the truth. It is vibrant, quite beautiful and very interesting. The little time that we had in Lucerne was spent wandering about the old city and along the river, where we saw ancient covered wooden bridges, beautiful churches, some really interesting architecture and magnificent old squares. Not enough time to properly get to know this city, but enough to pencil its name in the famous book of must returns.

Now it is time to leave Switzerland and head back to Germany. Although it has been undoubtedly more expensive than we would like, it has been fun. Our next stop is Freiburg, which you need to be very careful about, because there is a Freiburg in Germany, but also one in Switzerland (and one in France for that matter). It would be embarrassing ending up in the right town but wrong country. Luckily we kept our wits about us, but the insistent clarification from the railway ticket seller indicated to us that many people had actually done just this before.

Freiburg is a small university city with a big cathedral and a very nice "old city". Two nights here just to settle down a bit and get washing done. As is our standard mode of operation, we check into the hotel and Beth consults her lonely planet guide to confirm the key things to do and we set off walking. This time we also pop into the tourist bureau for some tips (none really forthcoming strangely). We decide that tomorrow would be our day to visit tourist attractions and the rest of today would be dedicated to wandering the streets. First stop was the market square in the middle of the old town, which is dominated by the cathedral. There is a market happening and the square is a hive of activity. We haven't eaten so decide to find something in the market. A bratwurst sausage in bread is the unanimous choice so we queue up at the stand labelled "Wurst" and start trying to work out what we are ordering. It all gets too hard trying to read the menu, so I just point to the biggest, fattest sausage and raise two fingers. The sausages are forthcoming and the man asks for vier euro vierzig (€4.40), to which I think there must be some mistake. Then I realise that we are back in Germany, where you can actually afford to eat. The sausages were delicious, but seemed all the more so because of the price.

Freiburg is on the western edge of the Black Forest, so of course I think that it is important that we complement our sausage feast with a local specialty for dessert (black forest cake of course). For once rain came to my aid and helped to confirm my view that an indoor activity was called for. I need to remember that each Euro costs me about $1.30, so one needs to be careful about getting excited by low prices, but for about half the price of the infamous Saanen tart I got a piece of cake 4 times the size and it was beautiful. I am enjoying being back in Germany.

Having fed ourselves a decidedly unhealthy meal of course we need to walk a lot, and that is exactly what we do. I don't think three was an inch of street in the old town that we did not cover. All of the streets are cobbled and have funny little gutters like ditches beside the footpath which are constantly flowing with water, and it seems to be a traditional pastime for children of the town to float little boats down these gutters. It was quite cute watching them.

On our tourist day we managed to climb the hill out of town and the tower on top of it for the views, climb the bell tower in the magnificent cathedral, visit the old cemetery and eat more cake, which made for quite a busy day. Climbing for views is always good, but I have mentioned before my particularr delight in climbing bell towers, and Freiburg's certainly did not disappoint, with wonderful views of the whole town and it's residents moving about. We were in the bell chamber on the half hour, where the Freiburg bell tolls just once, but this time we were not caught unawares and braced ourselves. One poor child near us though was surprised, and her terrified screams afterwards easily out decibelled the bells. I know how she felt. The cemetery was quite interesting. There have been no interments there for over 100 years, and it has become basically a bit of overgrown parkland in the city with old tombstones scattered about. It was quite atmospheric.

We enjoyed Freiburg, not the least for the lack of tourist hordes. Our next destination of Baden Baden (so nice they had to name it twice quipped Bill Clinton) will not suffer from that same lack of tourists. This weekend is a long weekend in Bavaria, and it also happens to contain my birthday, so our daughter Candice is joining us for a couple of days. We have become quite expert at driving the German rail system, so the short trip from Freiburg to Baden Baden (which is also in the Black Forest) is child's play, but to add spice to our lives, our hotel is five kilometres from the railway station and we need to figure out the local bus system. Quite simple in the end, but that is a problem for us. We are used to complex solutions to simple problems (I haven't forgotten you Myki), so it took us some time to get our heads around it. After finally mastering the system and then checking in at the hotel, we went back to the station to meet Candice who was arriving from Munich and dazzled her with our mastery of public transport.

Baden Baden is indeed a very beautiful place. It is an old Roman Spa town, and is sort of like Daylesford on steroids. The same principle, only older and bigger. Needless to say we wore out the cobblestones with our wandering again. Candice is clearly her mother's daughter, because she decided for a treat that we could go for a long walk up the hill outside of town where there is an old ruined castle with commanding views of the city. Although Candice has sadly inherited my legendary sense of direction, we did eventually find the castle and the views, and it was a lot of fun.

For my Birthday Candice presented me with some bits and pieces she had acquired in her travels in the last few months, including a Tintin comic from Belgium, a spice grinder from Istanbul and some paprika from Hungary. I will enjoy them all. Candice is planning to run the Munich half marathon in October and as part of her preparation she thought that she would do an easy 10k run in Baden Baden. She obviously also decided that this would be an opportunity to check whether at 56 I had become old, and she graciously invited me to come along if I felt able. I accepted on the proviso that she go easy with me (she nearly killed me when we went running in Munich). Beth was perhaps a little concerned about letting two directionally challenged individuals out by themselves in unfamiliar territory, and quite rightly so. We did see more of Baden Baden than we reckoned on, but surprisingly we found our way home and the clock ticked over just less than 10km when we returned to the room. Candice was certainly true to her word snd took it easy. I am not sure whether I passed the oldness test or not though.

Such exertions on ones birthday warrants a treat, and any calories I burnt on the run were very quickly replaced at the Sunday brunch which Candice had organised. I had experienced the German Sunday brunch tradition in Munich, and it was something to behold, but this one was on a whole new scale of magnificence. There was an enormous buffet with all sorts of foods imaginable, including a huge array of sweet things. Sitting in a corner, there was even a little corn flake dispenser, but it didn't seem to be very popular. I thought that I was quite constrained and resisted the temptation to go back for thirds. Beth and Candice perhaps thought differently. I do love Germany, but if I stayed here too long I would explode.

A very memorable and enjoyable birthday and it was fantastic to spend it with Beth and Candice. After fond farewells Candice heads back to Munich and Beth and I really test our capabilities with a trip to Trier which involves four quite tight train transfers, one of which was a little like Harry Potter's platform 9 1/2. We are in Trier for one night only, then we travel to Cologne for 2 nights, Aachen for 1 night, and then to Bruges, which is where I am writing this. Tomorrow we commence our bike ride to Paris, which will take 2 weeks, and I doubt very much that we will have wifi access along the way, so I will post my blog as it is now, or it will have to wait 2 weeks. Trier, Cologne and Aachen were fantastic, and my next post will contain something on them.

Montreux from Chillon Castle

The old town of Vevey near Montreux

Paying homage to Freddie Mercury (no, that is not me)

The mountains from Harder Kulm - Interlaken

The Harder Kulm lookout - Interlaken

Interlaken from Harder Kulm

Interlaken with its mountain backdrop

Lucerne

Old wooden bridge - Lucerne

Lucerne waterfront

Town square - Lucrrne

The old Rathaus Freiburg - from the bell tower

Floating boats in Freiburg

Freiburg Münster (cathedral)

Old churchyard - Freiburg

Walking in the Black Forest - Baden Baden

Not sure what they are both thinking - On top of the hill outside Baden Baden

Baden Baden from on top of the hill

Baden Baden street scene

Baden Baden water fountain

Roman entrance to Trier

Trier town square - quintessentially German in Beth's view

A big important building and garden in Trier

Bridge of locks - Cologne

Rail bridge and Cologne cathedral in background

Cologne cathedral

Rail bridge from Cologne Cathedral

View from the top - Cologne cathedral

Cologne Cathedral

City square - Bonn

Somewhere in Bonn

Brühl

Graffiti in Cologne

Alpine Pass Route - Part 2 - 3rd August to 10th August

Day 7 - Resting in Lauterbrunnen

Our notes suggested that we might spend our rest day taking a walk up to Murren, about 10km away and a climb of about 850m. This is because the notes also suggest that we cut short the walking tomorrow (because it is a very big day), by catching the cable car up to Murren, and walking there on our rest day would ensure that we didn't miss an inch of walking. Our aching bodies suggested something very different indeed, they suggested that we don't walk to Murren on our rest day, and that we still catch the cable car up the next day. We chose to listen to our bodies, so instead of a strenuous walk we decided instead to walk about 4 Km along the valley to a place called Trömmelbach Falls, and to just spend the rest of the day lazing around town.

On the way out to the falls an interesting thing happened. As we were walking along, a man of middle eastern appearance and his hijab clad wife came alongside and passed us (we were tired, so passing was acceptable today). He was quite heavy set and had the very stern, almost angry looking expression typical of many middle eastern men, and not helped by the fierce beard that he sported. As he spoke rapidly to his wife in the harsh (to western ears) tones of his Arabic tongue it completed the picture of someone to be feared and avoided. A little further down the trail we caught up with them as he was scanning the landscape in a restless and furtive manner. I determined to look straight ahead and move quickly, but as I started to do so his gaze fixed on me and eye contact was made. What came next was a surprise, a broad but crooked smile of greeting with teeth pointing everywhere changed his fierce look into a kind and genial one. This somewhat took me aback. With the ice broken by this man's friendliness, not mine, we exchanged pleasantries and got chatting. He was a Saudi who was escaping his country's summer with his family, and was a lovely, friendly man, who I enjoyed talking with and was embarrassed by my initial thoughts. I think I spoke once before in this journal of the importance of heeding ones instincts, and I do still stand by that, but I would say that trusting them implicitly is not such a good thing, particularly when those instincts have been honed (albeit unwittingly) by fear, ignorance and bigotry. My instincts told me that this was a man to fear, but nothing could be further from the truth. I was reacting to years of conditioning in the White Anglo Saxon enclave of Melbourne.

Trömmelbach Falls is a very strange thing. Externally it doesn't look all that impressive, it just seems to be a reasonably powerful waterfall feeding a fast flowing stream, but the weird thing about it is that it seems to just appear from about halfway up the valley wall. This is because it's source is the foot of the Eiger and Mönch glaciers, and meltwater and debris from those glaciers has effectively hewn a series of pipes or tunnels through the rock to this point where it discharges something like 25,000 tons of rubble and who knows how much water each year, so it is effectively the glaciers' plumbing. This is all very interesting, but it doesn't really explain what makes this a tourist attraction. Some Swiss 100 years or so ago decided that it would be good to build a tunnel so that the falls could be viewed at various points on its journey through the rocks, and it is this tunnel up through the mountains which attracts the tourists (including us). This is another example of the Swiss digging holes to open up natural wonders. Not to extract minerals, or to establish important trade routes or farm paths, but simply so that people can look at them. Enormous effort for little or no return at the time, but these Swiss were obviously thinking well into the future. Things like the Jungfraujoch, the Aarschlucht and Trömmelbach Falls attract lots of tourists now and help in quite a considerable way with the country's prosperity.

Trömmelbach Falls was quite an experience, as was walking the 4km back into town afterwards. The Lauterbrunnen valley is laced with waterfalls, and we intended on our way back to the hotel to walk a path which takes you under one of these falls to enjoy the cooling spray. The only problem is that whilst we were visiting Trömmelbach Falls the weather turned foul, so we decided that there was no need for cooling off and made our way directly to the hotel. My spray jacket was no match for Swiss rain and I was drenched by the time we returned. We decided that outdoor activities were off for the rest of the day and settled in to shop browsing and coffee sipping to fill in the time til dinner. Hopefully this was the end of dodgy weather for us.

Day 8 - Lauterbrunnen to Griesalp (16km distance, 951m ascent, 1204m descent)

This was meant to be a monster of a day with about 1,800 metres of climbing, but we decided that we would cheat a little and use the cable car service to take us up the first little bit to the town of Murren. When you are in Lauterbrunnen down in the long deep valley, all you can see on either side are the valley walls and you don't notice that at the tops of these walls are the towns of Wengen on one side (where we came from two days prior) and Murren on the other side. It is quite amazing how each of these towns, whilst so close together as the crow flies are so different to each other in almost every respect. The architecture is quite different, town layouts are different, gardens are different, people seem to dress and behave differently, even the attitude of their dogs seems different (the cow bells are the same though). You would think that over the last 100 years or so as tunnels, cable cars and the like diminished the impact of vertical separation that these differences would also have disappeared, apparently not. Although different, all three towns are very nice, and we are tempted to linger in Mürren, but our lazy day was yesterday, and the day was disappearing quickly, so onwards and upwards.

Leaving Mürren provided some of the nicest vistas of the hike so far with magnificent views back to the Jungfrau, Eiger and Mönch, with the Jungfrau dominating, and wonder of wonders, there is only a little bit of cloud obscuring these views. We climb steadily from Mürren knowing that ahead of us lies the dreaded Sefinenfurgge pass. This is the second highest point that we reach on the trek, and from all accounts it is steep, slippery and not recommended for those without a head for heights. Gulp!! I would not describe myself as someone with a head for heights, but too late to turn back now. After a couple of hours of steady uphill enjoying the views, we turn the corner and are confronted with a huge and very steep wall of loose shale rock. "Where to now", say I, secretly fearing that I knew the answer. Beth replied simply by pointing to a small colorful dot on a saddle at the top of the rock wall. This dot was a person who had gone before us. How they got there I was about to find out.

Going up was hard work and quite slippery because the rock was very unstable underfoot, but really it didn't cause me any great anxiety (probably because I was always looking up to where I was going). Once at the top we rested to have lunch and took the opportunity to survey the landscape. The pass itself was very small, and luckily for us there were not a lot of like minded people choosing to take lunch here, because more than likely we would be fighting for the few rocks available to sit on. On either side of us and only about 30 metres apart were steep, craggy rocks which defined the pass. Behind us was the steep slippery slope we had ascended, and it looked just as steep from up here. The frightening bit though is that on the other side, it looked even steeper still, and in the distance we could just see through the mist that there were some snow traverses to negotiate. I was struggling to hold my footing on the rocks, let alone snow. I was happy to take my time eating lunch.

I am pleased that Beth also considerd this descent challenging, so she was happy to go very slowly and carefully. The snow bridges were successfully crossed, and I was very thankful for my walking pole which helped to steady me, I really could not afford any slapstick up here, because a fall almost certainly would mean an involuntary amusement park ride with perhaps not a happy landing. Despite Beth's slow pace I still managed to fall behind. It is amazing in this most hostile of environments how many gorgeous wildflowers seem to flourish. They just seem to pop their dainty heads out of a mass of gravel. These of course caught my attention and caused me to linger whilst contemplating photographs. I did catch up from time to time but invariably dropped off the pace again when my attention was diverted. This I am afraid is my lot in life. I was however very thankful for the distraction of flowers, because it took my attention away from the monstrous slope I was scrambling down.

Eventually things levelled of a little and we were back into cow country, and before we knew it we were on a lovely and lonely little almost flat country path, again with wonderful mountain views, heading into Griesalp (sadly after Engstlenalp Beth's brain is now hard wired to be challenged by any town whose name ends in "alp", and Griesalp in Beth speak is "Greasel-snap". Best I think that when asking directions, she points to the town on a map rather than say its name). We were entirely alone on this path, we know this because looking back you could see way back up the hill where we had come from, and looking forward you could see right down into the village we were heading for, and there was not a soul on the path. Having just mentioned our solitude to Beth a hiker overtook us going at quite a solid pace (faster than us obviously). She was dressed in something which looked like a mix of Swiss Dairy Maid, Amish attire and Nun's habit. After she was out of earshot Beth and I turned to each other and in unison asked "Where did she come from?" To my mind there were 3 possibilities. She had been hiding behind a rock or down a marmot hole (for what reason who knows); she had been visiting at one of the little farm cottages along the path; or she had been sent down as a guardian angel to guide us into town. This was my favoured answer, but as Beth was quick to point out, we had a perfect view of where we were going, and if we were to be sent a guardian angel surely it would be to deal with a situation more dire than the one we currently found ourselves in. Anyway, this theory lost all value soon after when the lady turned into a house to be greeted by other Mother Theresa Swiss Maid types.

Griesalp was another accommodation house we were warned about in our notes. Be prepared for cramped accommodation and shared facilities. This time the notes were spot on. The room was tiny, even Beth had to duck her head for the door, and I felt like Hagrid once inside. The bed, or rather beds (the Swiss have this quaint habit of providing two single beds butted against each other in a double room) occupied almost all the room, so we had to be very compact with our movements . When Beth lay down on the bed to test it out (for comfort) it was obvious to her that she was lying with her head facing downhill (the floor was a long way from level), so she slept that night with her head at the foot of the bed. As for showers and toilets, there was one male and one female shower down in the dungeon (sorry - I meant cellar) servicing the whole hotel (about 20 people this night) and one seriously tiny toilet on each of 3 floors. Given our exertions from earlier in the day, I definitely needed a shower, otherwise I would be sleeping outside with the farm animals (alpacas at this particular farm - yes, in Switzerland). So as soon as we had settled in to the room I made a beeline for downstairs before other guests arrived with the same idea. The shower itself was actually not too bad, but the journey to get there was somewhat off putting. It really was down in a dark and gloomy cellar and you had to wander through all manner of junk to get there. Showers the next morning really weren't a problem either, I think because we were the only hardy souls brave enough to descend into the lower extremes of the building.

Whilst this may sound like the accommodation from hell it was far from it. We had a comfortable (albeit crooked) bed, the food was fantastic, the hosts affable, and if we were smart about it ablutions were possible. One of the things we like about the tour company that organises these trips for us is that they mix it up a bit. One night we will be living the good life and the next night we come down to earth with a thud. But always you get a taste of something different and unique, such as this unpretentious mountain inn.

Day 9 - Griesalp to Kandersteg (16km distance, 1426m ascent, 1658m descent)

No rest day today, and as we set off (uphill of course) I get the sense that my climbing gear is defective. My head says step, and all that happens is a shuffle. I try hard to lift my feet, but it feels like someone has put lead in my boots. I wondered fleetingly about returning these legs to their maker, but I have a feeling that warranty may have run out. I may have complained just a little to Beth about my faulty limbs, but her reply was predictably philosophical. They are what you have, and they are better than nothing. Use them, don't complain about them.

Today is another very big day, for we cross The Hohtürli, a mountain pass which apparently makes the Sefinenfurgge seem like child's play. Perhaps this is why my legs aren't working as they should, they know what they are in for. Not too far along the track we come across a sign (placed there I think by my guardian angel of yesterday) saying "Do not enter - Danger of avalanches". After a bit of discussion, we decided that we should not proceed, but go back and get some advice from locals. Outwardly I showed all the right signs of being disappointed that we may have to abort this leg of our trip. As luck (or is that fate) would have it, we had only just started back when a couple of local hikers happened along, and we asked them whether we should heed the sign or proceed. They looked at the sign and spoke to each other in hushed German tones for a minute or more, whereupon the one obviously chosen as spokesperson came up to us. "There is risk in proceeding", said he "but what is life without risk", then off they went past the sign. Curse these blasted philosophers!! This was enough for Beth. If they were willing to take the risk so would we. We never did see any indication of avalanche danger.

The first part of the walk was steep but pleasant as it passed through forests and ran alongside mountain streams, but eventually it became a little steeper and the forest gave way to bare rock and shale until we came to a point where it didn't seem possible that we could go any further. Beth obviously could tell what I was thinking and again she pointed to a small coloured dot high high up on the ridge above, that was where we were heading. This time the dot was not a person, but a mountain hut. Somehow the track weaves its way backwards and forwards across the slope and then along a ridge heading ever upwards and into the clouds. After about an hour of climbing we bumped into a group of 3 Swiss hikers resting at a snow bridge before tackling the last push to the top. the group was a 70 year old man and his 67 year old wife and their 40 something son. The son looked very fit and athletic, but the same could not be said of the parents, particularly mum who was a little overweight and looking a little the worse for wear from her exertions thus far. We stopped and chatted for a while (these Swiss - along with most of the Swiss population I think - had been to Australia, which provided a good conversation starter). It appears that the mum of the group has a picture on her wall at home of the Blumislalp Hut (that dot we are aiming for), and for years has been saying that she will go to that hut and stay the night. Today she was looking to fulfil that dream. We wished them well and pushed on.

Although we could see the hut quite well now, it still took the best part of an hour to reach the pass, with the last bit of ascent so steep that a series of steps (steep enough to be called ladders I think) and chains were necessary. It was a tough job getting up here, and even though there was snow about and the fog ensured that there was no sun to warm us, I was soaked with sweat and looking I think a little the worse for wear as I took the last step to the top. Beth was in much better shape, but still looking a bit weary. The pass here was just as rugged, but a bit more spacious than the Sefinenfurgge, and there were a lot more people up here. Sadly most of them looked fresh as a daisy and full of energy. I looked around to see if perhaps there was a helicopter which dropped them off, but no, they must have got here the same way as we had. Perhaps once I took refreshments I would look pretty good too.

We sat down at the top of the pass and ate lunch then decided to climb the extra 200m to the Blumislalp hut and by way of celebration treat ourselves to some Heisse schocolade and apfel küchen (hot chocolate and apple cake) which were absolutely delicious. Evidently the makings for all the food sold at the hut is regularly delivered by helicopter, which meant that the 10 Swiss francs it cost us each was a pleasant surprise. We had just finished our treat and were standing to go when who should stumble in the door but the Swiss family from down the hill, mum sporting the biggest smile you can imagine. We clapped and cheered them in and then decided to sit back down and stay with them for a while. Despite mum's very limited English, she was happy to sit and talk with us, even apologising for her poor English (how embarrassing, we were not even trying to use our vey poor German). She was really lovely and we had a great time chatting. I have said it before I know, but the most enjoyable part of travelling is enjoying the company of different people. Eventually we got up to make the journey downhill. When we got outside, the fog had really settled in and it was quite cold, but the hot chocolate had warmed out tummies and the old lady inside had warmed our hearts so we were good to go.

The other side of the pass was much the same as the one we came up (I did check with Beth to make sure we weren't retracing our steps). There were ladders and chains and it was verrrry steep. Flowers again were my saviour, but even they could not take my mind off the growing pain in my knees and toes as we jolted our way down the hill. Eventually the extremely steep stuff gave way to simply very steep stuff which persevered for a couple of hours until we passed the very beatiful Oeschinensee (the German word for lake is see) and then dropped into the outskirts of Kandersteg. As we were walking into Kandersteg we noticed a very large number of young people wandering about, and wondered why. The fact that many of them were wearing funny scarves should have given it away. Kandersteg it seems has been a major centre for the world scout movement for nearly 100 years and there is a camp on the outskirts which hosts up to 2,000 scouts at a time during summer. Given that the permanent population of Kandersteg is about 1,500, it is little wonder that we noticed a high concentration if dib dib dobbers. When we finally reached the hotel it was a very welcome sight. True to form, this hotel had the most magnificent views down the valley to the mountains and was quite luxurious. Chalk and cheese with the Griesalp hotel, but we weren't complaining.

After freshening up we spend the couple of hours before dinner exploring Kandersteg, which is a very nice old town absolutely focused on tourism (scouts, skiers and summer visitors like us). It is also the first station out of the Lötschberg Rail Tunnel which burrows for 15 kilometres below the Alps to connect the Cantons of Bern and Valais. We were amazed at the number of trains hauling mainly cars and caravans through the tunnel. One suspects that caravans do not perform very well on mountain roads. We were also quite amazed by the scouts we saw. Not at all like my childhood memories of scouts. I am sure they were the ones who were able to tie all manner of knots in rope, light fires without matches and were happy to do a job for a bob. Invariably they were excruciatingly clean cut. Most of the scouts I saw here were an unruly bunch, reeking of cigarettte smoke and striking fear into the hearts if Kandersteg shop keepers. I am sure that I only noticed the rogues and there were plenty of the nice traditional scouts about. They were probably too frightened to roam the streets when the rogues were out and about.

Day 10 - Resting in Kandersteg

Whenever you stay in paid accommodation in Europe you are obliged to pay a local tax of generally about €3 per person per night. The theory is that this money is invested in facilities for tourists. This is an interesting concept. I thought that facilities were built to attract tourists who then spend money in town and that imposing a tax is probably double dipping a bit, but clearly my mind does not work like a European's. To make you feel better about the fact that you have handed over €3, your hotel will often provide you with a guest card , which offers discounts on generally useless things. Kandersteg's card however was pretty good in that it offered 50% discount on town cable cars.

So although yesterday was a tough day and it is officially a rest day, we both feel pretty good and decide to take the half price cable car up some 600m to Sunnbüel (a ski resort above town), walk 5 kilometres (and 400m ascent) to the Berghotel Schwartzenbach for lunch, and then walk back again. Surprisingly, despite my two black toenails and the decrepit state of my body the previous day, this was quite pleasant. Perhaps that mountain was also a fitness hurdle I had to get over, or more probably, gentle exercise doesn't kill me, but the serious stuff does. The rest of the day we spend window shopping (Beth seems to find this restful).

Day 11 - Kandersteg to Adelboden (16k distance, 1204m ascent, 1024m descent)

Although our notes suggest that our biggest days are now behind us, I find the hike up to the Bunderchrinde pass to be extremely challenging and at times quite frightening. As per previous days our walk starts with a climb (initially through forest, but then open farm land) which gradually increases in intensity as we progress. Today the climbing seems particularly steep and rather than push straight up to the Bunderchrinde pass, our route zig zags up the hill through rutted cow pastures across and to the right of the Bunderchrinde and then takes us back along a ridge to the base of the steep scree pile we need to clamber up to reach the pass. Walking through muddy ruts and cow muck is a lot of fun, but not nearly as much fun as traversing the ridge. Beth seems to have no problems with this sort of terrain, but it puts the wind up me a bit. On one side of the ridge if you fell the worst you would get is a few bruises and a drenching with cow muck, one the other side however, if you slip, it is down a sheer cliff face and into the cloud below and rocks beyond. In short, you perish. A fence runs along the ridge, and of course the path takes us along the dangerous side of the fence. Beth would say that the path was well formed and fairly wide, so there were no dangers. I didn't see it quite that way.

The push up to the Bunderchrinde was steep and very slippery, but reasonably short, and we made it without any real dramas. Once at the top, we did what now seemed to be the customary thing and pulled out our bread stick to dine. As was the case with the other two high passes, the weather was foul and there was not a lot of space to make yourself comfortable in, so we resolved not to linger. The arrival of a pair of hikers and a scout group all speaking English and smoking cigarettes was too much for us and hastened our departure. I think that this descent was the hardest of all. It was very steep and unstable, and there were no ladders or chains to provide any assistance, but thankfully some trail workers (there is a Swiss organisation responsible for maintaining trails) had recently shaped some footholds into the scree which was quite helpful. More slow and steady, more sore knees and more sore toes, but this time the landscape is so desolate that there are not enough wildflowers to distract me, so I can focus 100% on my misery. Soon enough though things settle down and and we start the long, but steady descent into Adelboden.

Although distance has not been a big factor today, it has again been quite a tough day and we breathe a sigh of relief as we hit the outskirts of Adelboden only to then look ahead to see that the town centre (and of course our hotel) are over and up the other side of the valley, which of course means one last long and steep climb for the day. A cruel trick to play on a pair of weary walkers. Adelboden fits pretty much the same mould as Kandersteg (except there are less scouts). It is a tourist town catering essentially for skiers.

Day 12 - Adelboden to Lenk (11k distance, 600m ascent, 888m descent)

Day 13 - Lenk to Saanen (14k distance, 970m ascent, 797m descent)

As the first two days if this tour seemed to be about easing us into our stride, the last two days seem to be pretty much a warm down exercise and whilst the walks to Lenk and Saanen are very much still part of the Alpine Pass Route and hold there own little challenges and delights, we have left the alps we came to see behind us, and these are justa couple of pleasant and relatively easy walks over rolling green hills. The views are still beatiful, but we have become a bit blasé, and they are nothing compared with what we have already seen.

Lenk was pretty and friendly and a little less touristy than other towns we had visited, but was also a little unremarkable. Interestingly, and perhaps this is because we were getting closer to the French speaking part of Switzerland, this was the first town we noticed where basically everything closes down for lunch between 12:00 and 2:00. Beth also noted that as this was a very easy day, it was probably also the only town we had actually arrived at between 12:00 and 2:00.

Saanen and it's close neighbour Gstaad are quite beautiful villages. We arrived in Saanen on their market day and the streets were packed with traders' stalls and prospective customers. Once we had checked into our hotel (which was the former old town hall and still retained all the trappings associated with that use) we decided to go out and have a look at the market. We were quite amazed at the price tags placed on things which seemed to us to nothing more than a load of old rubbish. We were even more surprised to see that people were actually buying these things.

Switzerland is a very expensive place to visit, to the extent that we would really need to think hard about spending a lot of time here again. Saanen was a stark reminder to us of these high costs, and also of the Swiss propensity to take as much money out of your pockets as they possibly can. While wandering through the market, we decided that we would get cup of coffe and piece of tart each from a street vendor. The young man behind the stall charged me 16 Francs (roughly $20), which is a bit pricey for a small espresso in a paper cup and an average sized piece of tart, but it was par for the course in Switzerland so I handed the money over without too much concern. At this, a man who I assume to be the stall owner berated the young man for charging the wrong amount. I foolishly thought a price reduction was coming, but no, evidently this little treat was actually worth 24 Francs. The cake was very sweet but seemed to leave a bitter taste in my mouth. Later that night we were charged 7.8 Francs for a carafe of tap water. I am looking forward to getting back to Germany, where 24 Francs will buy you a very nice meal, and 7.8 Francs is the drinks bill for a big night out.

Although the weather has not always been kind to us we have really enjoyed the Alpine Pass Route, it has challenged and enthralled us. We have found good companionship and hospitality from our hoteliers and fellow hikers, we have eaten like kings and we have enjoyed the diversity which Switzerland offers. Now we are heading to Montreux on Lake Geneva to take the Goldenpass Train route through Interlaken to Lucerne. Some people pay a lot of money to be pampered and fed on this train trip whilst sitting in coaches with panoramic views. We will take the standard regional trains used by Swiss commuters, which have no frills but travel the arame route at a fraction of the price. The Swiss have enough of my money already, they don't need any more.