With the Covid pandemic having mothballed travel for what seems an eternity, Christine and I are excited it has finally relinquished its chokehold enough to allow for some exploring in the luscious landscapes of Luxembourg and Switzerland.
Because of a dramatic multi-tiered topography the former fortress city of Luxembourg is lived on multiple levels, and with Luxembourgers proudly claiming ‘Chemin de la Corniche’ as the most beautiful balcony in Europe, that is where we begin. Descending 235 feet on the Pfaffenthal Elevator to the Grund District for a stroll along the meandering Alzette River it feels as if we’ve fallen into a giant crevasse.
With Luxembourg a financial hub and the wealthiest country in the European Union, it’s relatively easy to get around with the buses, trains, and trams all free of charge. Although the miniscule country could fit into Canada roughly 3,861 times it punches well above its weight when it comes to natural beauty; as does the elegant Christine, who today has just accumulated senior citizenship status.
Our 2022 Audi A3 rental car is operated by a newfangled touchscreen technology, but as a technophobe even confounded by the operation of my phone I find it a total debacle. Unable to read the German operations manual we cannot find a way to silence a navigation system spewing out directions in a language sounding
like a cat trying to gag up a hairball. Oddly enough, if Luxembourgers become angered or frustrated they sometime use the saying ‘Leck d’Kaz do wou se keng Buuschten huet’, which interestingly translates to ‘lick the cat where it doesn’t have any hair’!
From our lodging in the German municipality of Echternacherbrück we cross the Sauer River border into Luxembourg’s oldest city of Echternach. We’ve come for the first of several hikes on the Mullerthal Trail; one of Europe’s best kept secrets, and an outdoor enthusiast’s paradise where Mother Nature has sculpted sandstone masterpieces throughout a network of tantalizing trails.
In the bombardment of beauty found in the Consdorf region we wriggle through 150 foot high canyon walls so narrow our backpacks brush both sides at the same time. Other wonderful trail highlights over the week include The Labyrinth, Pericop, Hohllay Caves, and the stunning Wollefsschlucht (Wolves Canyon).
Diving through Vianden and its Disney-worthy castle to Germany’s oldest town of Trier we are greeted by the Porta Nigra (Black Gate), and constructed by Romans back in the 2nd century, its 7,200 stone blocks weigh up to six tons each. Obviously the price of construction was not a concern back in the day.
Next stop is Luxembourg’s commune of Nommern with a whopping population of 262. A handsome red fox trots through the field beside us searching for a tasty meal of mouse as we begin our hike of the ‘Well-being Trail’ and allow the solitude of the black forest to embrace us. After our mind-quieting roaming we visit the commune of Mersch we return to Luxembourg City and purchase train tickets for tomorrow’s travel through France and into Switzerland.
In the blackness of morning as the first train starts to roll out of the Gare de Luxembourg, it abruptly stops and we’re urgently ordered to leave the train and take our bags with us. Employees are in panic, as a 250 kg World War II bomb has just being uncovered only 400 meters down the tracks!
Immediately all rail traffic in and out of town is suspended and electricity shut off. Police are now involved and order a complete evacuation of the railway station. The surrounding blocks are cordoned off, traffic is diverted, and all restaurants and businesses within several blocks are also shut down. The crew from the train, station employees, and all passengers are frustratingly directed into town.
After hours of standing around with luggage in hand, we finally receive the glum news from police that no trains will be operating until at least tomorrow morning. The elephant edging into the room is that now all our connecting train tickets have also been compromised.
Our previous night’s hotel is off-limits as it’s now part of the lockdown area, and unable to find another hotel recommended I ask a group of guys on the street for directions. The rugged crew turn out to be a multi-national group known as the ‘green shirts’, hired by the city to help keep tourists safe in the Gare District. Trained in martial arts, they include include a Russian and Ukrainian, who tell us with a grin they don’t mind conflict, and though not allowed to start a fight, definitely have the skills to finish one.
They inform us the reason we cannot find our hotel is because the owners recently renamed it. The historic 1932 Hotel Perin was designed by a famous Italian architect and is decorated period correct. Its vintage vibe is absolutely charming, and listening to a record of Max Greger playing the sax as we enjoy drinks in the antique-laden lounge certainly helps to soothe what has been a most cerebrally taxing day!
As a result of yesterday’s turmoil, we board the first of six trains at five o’clock in the morning to reach Switzerland. Entering Metz France in darkness, an ego-bruising mistake has us boarding a second train going in the wrong direction; once again invalidating our connecting tickets and creating even more delays. After another epically long and exasperatingly day we’re happy as a butcher’s dog to finally shower away the strain of the train at our lodging in Switzerland’s Lauterbrunnen Valley.
Peaceful Switzerland appears to be allergic to conflict, and not taking sides, has not been involved in a war since 1847. This is probably a good thing, since using wee red pocket knives pregnant with gizmos and gadgets as their weapon of choice makes any chance of success seem to be on the wrong side of zero! The Swiss, it seems, prefer other countries to do their fighting for them while they just ski and eat chocolate!
The country’s Achilles heel is clearly its prices, and affordable in Switzerland, I’m sorry those words just do not compute! Like most activities in the pauperizing nation, meals require some serious wallet-yoga, and it pains me to see Christine ordering a cup of coffee costing nearly as much as a small Caribbean island! It’s obvious that finding something ‘not too expensive’ here is about as rare as a Swiss declaration of war!
The country is also not without its quirks. What quirks you may ask, well let’s begin at the end. What is a landlocked island separated by mountains instead of seas supposed to do with millions of dead people and a severe shortage of land? Well, the ecologically-minded Swiss have a law stating that a graveyard plot can only be rented for a span of 25 years. When time is up they recycle the headstone, dig up the grave, and dispose of any remaining bones to ready it for the next renter.
Other laws making about as much sense as powdered water include the fact that a windshield wiper is compulsory on a vehicle even if it doesn’t have a windshield. Say what? Perhaps they want us to believe their famous Swiss engineering is efficient enough to bat away raindrops mid-air?
It’s also illegal to mow your lawn or hang laundry on a Sunday, as apparently the Swiss cannot tolerate the noise of a growling lawnmower or the sight of tighty-whities waving in the wind during their Sunday stroll. Oh yes, and did you know Switzerland even has a law making it illegal to ski while reciting poetry? All of a sudden the prostitution of cuckoo clocks on every corner seems to make a little more sense! Ahh yes, the Swissness of it all!
Lauterbrunnen Valley is without doubt one of the most beautiful valleys in the world, enclosed by dramatic cliffs rising up 1,500 feet on either side with the stunning Alps beyond. The name means ‘loud waters’, and as it happens our lodging is adjacent to famous Staubbach Falls, one of the highest free-falling waterfalls in Europe.
Lugged up steep slopes to Wengen by the Wengeneralpbahn cogwheel train we begin our hike to Kline Scheidegg. With the village shrinking below us the hills are not alive with the sound music, but instead the heavy panting from our exaggerated efforts on the lung-busting terrain. The closest thing to music is a charming concert of clanking and clonking cowbells resonating up from the valley far below.
As surrounding mountains silently observe our granddad-esque climbing pace in the rarified air of the Alps Christine and I suddenly become concerned that both people and trail signs vanished some time ago. It is then we realize we are lost.
Instead of sensibly turning back we continue up the precipitous slope, and somehow end up on the famous Lauberhorn World Cup downhill ski run. Dwarfed by towering mountains, the hair-raising course is the longest run in the world, where skier’s top speeds can reach up to 160 km per hour. Hunched over with nose to knees trying to catch our breath, we the serendipity of encountering an experienced Norwegian hiker who offers a helpful orientation to the trail we are seeking.
With much more up and down than sideways the Swiss terrain looks like a Trump or Putin polygraph test. The miniscule country could fit roughly 241 times into Canada, but I suspect its footprint might be a lot more comparable should all its muscular mountains be ironed flat!
Today we venture even higher into the mountains to the itsy-bitsy, and ever so Switzy, car-less village of Mürren. Perched precariously on the side of a mountain with enthralling vistas of the Eiger, the Jungfrau, and the Monch, we’re elated to be sequestered away for the next four days in marvelous mile-high Murren; mingling with the mammoth, mesmerizing, and majestic mountains.
Given the heavenly location of our lodging at the funky 1888 built Chalet Fontana, we are surprised when the lovely owner cautions us to keep the gates and doors closed at all times because of a sly Red fox that will try to slink in and gain access to her backyard chickens.
Our activity of choice is walking – and lots of it. With Switzerland’s stratospheric prices nearly as steep as the boldly sculpted mountains it is one of the few things one can do without hemorrhaging enough Swiss Francs to require multiple mortgages!
Hiking to the traffic free and cheery village of Gimmelwald it feels as if we’ve wandered into some kind of fairy tale. The steep slopes are freckled with trapped-in-time rustic wood chalets cheerfully adorned with colorful geranium boxes. Storage sheds have firewood stacked in works of art, and contented cows laze about on the seaweed-green grass. With the continuous beauty of the surrounds we half expect to spot Heidi frolicking with her Gramps and the goats!
Climbing back up to Murren late afternoon Christine and I witness a Zen-like phenomenon called the ‘Alpenglow’. As the sun drops below the horizon line, the light reflects off moist air particles and has the snowy tops of our silent 13,000’ friends blushing a dazzling reddish glow.
At today’s first light, an ear-popping cable car ride whisks us up the daunting Schilthorn Mountain to the village of Birg to tackle a seizure-inducing experience designed for the adrenaline-obsessed. At 9,744 feet the mountains are often above the clouds, but today we’re blessed with a perfectly blue September sky, and being the first to arrive we have the ‘Thrill Walk’ all to ourselves.
A one-way gate reminds us that once starting the walk there is no turning back, but putting a great deal of faith into Swiss engineering we enter a 650 foot steel structure clinging to a vertical rock cliff on Schilthorn Mountain. With the peaks lording their beauty over us, the dizzying heights introduce our old friend adrenaline while walking that fine line between exhilaration and cardiac arrest!
With the myriad of ways this could go wrong stirring in our cerebral shadows we tremble across a glass- bottomed floor trying to ignore the terrifying drop. Clearing that hurdle we face a wire tightrope before crawling through a narrow tunnel of what looks like robust chicken wire; the only thing preventing a crimson smear on the rocks 820 feet below! Completing our spine-tingling adventure with our hearts still ramming our ribcage we share a post Thrill Walk lip-lock to celebrate being on terra firma.
With gathering clouds beginning to cloak the mountain we hike the craggy Grauseeli Lake loop then descend the mountain and complete today’s trifecta with a one hour jaunt up to Allmendhubel. Whew! After a strenuous but wonderful day we return to Murren for chocolate, cheese, and wine; which just for the record, our legs think is a spectacularly good idea!
Before the sky has lightened this morning we train to Zweilutschinen, and in a quandary over a connecting train to Grindelwald I ask a guy standing nearby if he might know. In a remarkable coincidence, not only does he know, but he happens to be the relief driver for that very train!
Ken is an Irish guy with a great sense of humour, and as the train pulls into the station he invites Christine and I to join him up in the control car. Enjoying unimpeded panoramas during the steep incline up to Grindelwald and sharing some laughter with the hospitable driver is a great start to the day.
From Grindelwald we use a gondola to float over an emerald valley up to the village of First, and watching our every move is the perilous 5,900’ north face of the Eiger Mountain. During our hike, vistas of jagged snow-capped mountain peaks reflecting in a glacial lake are about as subtle as a falling anvil, and as they keep urging us to take another photo it’s easy to understand why gorgeous Lake Bachalpsee travels around the world as a postcard!
Luxembourg and Switzerland may both be diminutive domains, but often, as in this case, less is more. We feel greatly privileged for the opportunity of immersing ourselves in the remarkable landscapes of both of these easily embraceable and epically beautiful wee countries. For travelers with a love for the outdoors, it would be difficult to do better.
Mark Colegrave 2022