The Hills Are Alive

Look, I know this isn’t Austria, but just bear with me and you will see where I get my strange ideas from. If you could take a wander through my mind, fortunately for you, you can’t, you would be amazed at what you might find, don’t open the drawers marked “dubious,” they are still a work in progress.

This day was going to be pretty full on so, for that reason, I will take two weeks to cover everything we did.

On waking up today, it was like being slapped in the face by the alarm clock, nowhere near enough sleep by my standards. Jane is always quite annoyed at how easy it is for me to drop off, she always maintains I could fall asleep on a washing line. I know, a questionable analogy, and something I am not inclined to try. I have never understood how people cannot sleep, though, can you? To my thinking, all you have to do is put your head on the pillow and the next bit follows on as sure as the moon orbits the earth. I have never given credence to all of those quack remedies touted in the newspapers. Make yourself tired enough and sleep will take over. Easy peasy lemon squeezy!

25th July 1987, 38 years ago, we were both young, free and single. Well, for another few hours anyway. Today is our 38th anniversary. Incredible to think that our dinner companions from last evening were probably still in nappies on our wedding day!

Breakfast taken. Please forgive me but I am going to bang on about the buffet. I know for a fact that our wonderful travel agent, Dorothy Nelson of Premier Travel in Swaffham, informed Riviera of my requirements so, I am sorry to say, I am at a loss as to why this critical information had not made it from the company’s head office in Burton-on-Trent to the decks of the MS Geoffrey Chaucer. Not to worry now, try and make the most of it. Jane went across to select my food. I filled up anyway, and had nearly polished mine off before she appeared with her own.

We were joined by a lovely Irish couple from, I think, Limerick, or, at least, I think they had something to do with Limerick; perhaps they drove there once, not quite sure. Tempting, isn’t it? Here goes:

There was a lovely fella called Jim
I really did like him
And then there was Breda
I thought a lot of her
Who had joined the cruise on a whim

Sorry, couldn’t resist it. Apologies to all better exponents of the limerick art, which is probably every other breathing human being!

We were then guided, not herded like some ocean cruises, onto our bus for the first excursion of the week, to Stanserhorn and Lucerne. I for one couldn’t wait. The guide was straight into it, but every time we went through a tunnel he had to stop talking, the wind buffeted the bus, the sound bounced off the walls and ears popped

My eyes were beginning to feel a little heavy. I was, I am afraid, a little sleep deprived, so I strung out my washing line and pegged myself out. I snoozed really and convinced myself that I did not miss a single word of the commentary. Just don’t test me.

What do the mountains of Switzerland have in common with her most famous cheese, Emmental? Answer: holes. The ones blasted into the mountains are tunnels whereas the ones in the cheese are known as eyes. Back in the day, it was realised that it was damned inconvenient to go over or round the Alps so the easiest option was to go through.

The tunnels were constructed using tonnes of dynamite and concrete whilst the cheese eyes were formed by carbon dioxide which is a bi-product of the fermentation process. Did you know that there are about 1,300 tunnels cut through the Swiss mountains, giving approximately 2,000 kilometres of road and rail access through some, otherwise, inaccessible terrain. New ones are being added all the time, so both numbers will go up.

As I write this, the longest tunnel in the country, and, therefore, the world, is the 57km Gotthard Base Railway Tunnel. Given the size of Switzerland I was convinced that it must have more metres of tunnels related to land mass than anywhere else. I consulted with Mr Google who informed me that this is not the case, it is Norway. I also found an article that described tunnels as beautiful. Not sure about you, but I cannot conceive a time when I might look at a tunnel plunging into a mountainside and think it one of the most attractive things I have ever seen. Each to their own, I suppose!

As I mentioned, Basel, when including suburbs, lies across the borders of three countries. I had always been brought up to think that there were three languages widely spoken across the country: French, German and Italian. Well, think again, you need to add a fourth. Don’t know about you, but I had never heard of Romansh before.

The most widely spoken of the three major tongues is German, about 60% claim it as their main communication, used in 19 of the 26 cantons, but English has become as important as any other as it is the bridge between the main languages, most being reluctant to utter the rival official words. Romansh is an interesting little number, it is spoken by less than 40,000 people, but is probably the oldest continuous language in the country, going back to the days of the Roman Empire. It appears to have seen off the earlier Celtic and Raetic tongues.

Another morsal of trivia. Have you ever wondered why car registration plates sport the initials CH, along with the Swiss sporting teams, and website domain addresses? Well, it goes back a long way and it doesn’t. Let me explain. It stands for Confoederatio Helvetica. It goes back a long way because it is derived from the Celtic people who used to inhabit the region, the Helvetii, and it is also more recent because it wasn’t adopted as the official title until 1848, when they were looking for a name that would properly reflect its neutrality and not be taken from any of the four languages. Typical Swiss, designed not to upset. It really is impossible to be upset by the Swiss as they are all so nice.

So it was that we arrived at the base of the mountain. We had bussed from the canton of Basel-Stadt to that of Nidwalden, where the peak is situated in the Uri Alps, standing 1,898 metres high. Let’s give this a bit of context, Ben Nevis is our own big boy, but only weighs in at a paltry 1,345 metres. Then, just think, old Stan doesn’t even get into the top 50, maybe the top 100, there are 48 summits that come in at over 4,000 metres. It is clear that Britain isn’t referred to as Great for its mountains.

Alighting from the coach we were greeted by a rather lovely day, you wouldn’t call it summer, maybe a little springlike, things like Julie Andrews and Edelweiss came to mind. In fact, I would call it most pleasant. I had shunned Jane’s suggestion to pack a jumper or sweatshirt for this tour. To be honest, that would have been impossible as neither had made the cut for the entire holiday, after all, it was the middle of summer.

All she said in response was, “Remember Mount Washington.”

“You fuss too much,” I replied.

The first part of our climb to the top was on an ancient funicular railway, installed in 1893. It was amazing, timber framed and timber lined, it is possibly the most stunning example of this mode of transport I have encountered. We got off at the end of the journey, maybe the mercury had dipped a couple of degrees, but the sun was still warming my back. No problem, it was still very acceptable.

If the first leg of the journey had been amazing, then the second part was truly spectacular. We boarded the incredible double-deck open-top Cabrio Aerial Cableway, the only one in the world, or so they claimed anyway. What a brilliant piece of engineering it was. There was only the slightest of jolts as we passed under the pylon supports, but, other than that, it was as steady as a rock, as smooth as a waterslide.

One lady had become very nervous about boarding the Cabrio. In the end she had fought off her phobia and had made the huge effort to get on board. When I spoke to her on the ship later she couldn’t begin to tell me how grateful she had been that she had conquered her fear and made it to the top. It wasn’t to be long into the ride that we encountered low cloud. It was grey, damp and, most of all, a tad on the chilly side. There was no chink to let the sun through. I was happy, though, it gave everyone else an idea of what every minute is like for me. I don’t suppose it is a perfect representation but, in my mind, it is as close as it gets.

On the way up the discordant sound of cowbells clanking through the fog assaulted our ears. There we are, there was no better reminder that we really were in Switzerland; I was picturing Heidi putting in an appearance at any time. One can only dream. By the time we got off it was perishingly cold. Mount Washington popped into my mind along with, “I told you so.” Justifiably, too.

We went off to the giftshop. You got it, I needed a second layer. I purchased a rather fetching Stanserhorn hoodie. Many of the women travelling with me said it made me look really sexy. Okay, perhaps I am paraphrasing a little, but they did say it suited me! I am an author so am allowed to put my own spin on it.

Even though most passengers couldn’t make anything out thanks to the weather closing in, for me it was worse, the sense of openness up there was totally shrouded by grey cloud. I did wonder if the sun came out it might shatter any illusions the blanket of fog allowed me to build up. I would hate for it to lift and reveal mounds of litter and the like. I am sure that that would not have been the case, but I didn’t want to know for sure.

I have been in revolving restaurants before, but not one like this. The tables were set on a central dais, and it was this that moved whilst the external walls remained static. Usually, one sits by the windows as the moving platform revolves about the solid core. With the latter it is possible to look up after buttering some bread and view something totally different from when you selected the roll from its basket. Even though I knew this restaurant moved it was confusing, it didn’t feel like it was going round at all, so when I looked up and was staring straight at a solid wall rather than the windows of seconds earlier, my brain struggled to understand it. Truth be known, I had no view whatsoever, I couldn’t see beyond the glass. Nonetheless, this was the first excursion of our Gastronomy Cruise so, of course, there was food involved. It was a peculiar dish as it was referred to as a Swiss version of macaroni cheese. I was quite astonished at how good some folks’ tastebuds are? To me, it seemed like it was exactly the same except, if I maybe so bold, it used penne rather than macaroni, so strictly speaking, I guess it should have been penne cheese. Oh well, never mind!

One piece of drama took place on the mountain top. You will recall I said it was very foggy? Well, there are a number of paths that lead up to, down from and around the summit. The tour guide had said that they were safe enough to walk. One couple took them at their word, not sure I would have done, indeed, we didn’t. We love walking but know our limits. The pair wandered off and soon became disoriented, and panic set in. Eventually they were rescued, or, rather, discovered, by a gang of Dutch girls and led back to the restaurant at the peak. It was clear they were upset, and quite annoyed at the guides for giving them the impression that it was safe. Others were muttering that, sometimes, you need to take responsibility for your own actions. Not sure where I stand on this, other than to say I would not have done it, but there again, I have a handicap that requires caution as my first option.

Then it was back down the mountain in the reverse of the upward journey. The Cabrio Cableway, the wooden funicular, and the bus.

In next week’s episode, we will visit the pretty little town of Lucerne. There will be chocolate and a Tell tale!

Find Out More
Cabrio Aerial Cableway: https://www.myswitzerland.com › en-gb › experiences
Mount Stanserhorn: https://www.stanserhorn.ch;

White Cane Ratings
Funicular: good – a little tight to negotiate 🦯 🦯 🦯 (3)
Cabrio Cableway: excellent – very accessible 🦯 🦯 🦯 🦯 🦯 (5)
Mount Stanserhorn: good – don’t try walking on own 🦯 🦯 🦯 (3)