With the Covid pandemic having mothballed travel for what seems an eternity, Christine and I are excited that it has relinquished its chokehold enough to allow for some wandering in the luscious landscapes of Luxembourg and Switzerland.
Luxembourg City has a dramatic multi-tiered topography, and since Luxembourgers proudly claim the ‘Chemin de la Corniche’ as the most beautiful balcony in Europe, that is where we begin. Descending 235 feet down on the glass Pfaffenthal Elevator to the gorgeous Grund District, it feels as if the area has fallen into a crevasse on our stroll along the meandering Alzette River.
With Luxembourg being a financial hub and the wealthiest country in the European Union, it’s relatively easy to get around with 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 rental car, a 2022 Audi A3, is operated by some newfangled touchscreen technology, but as a technophobe 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 that sounds like a cat trying to gag up a hairball stuck in its throat. Oddly enough, when Luxembourgers are angered or frustrated they sometimes use the odd saying; ‘Leck d’Kaz do wou se keng Buuschten huet’, meaning ‘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 for the first of several hikes. The Mullerthal Trail is one of Europe’s best kept secrets and an outdoor enthusiast’s paradise, where Mother Nature has sculpted masterpieces out of sandstone rock throughout the network of tantalizing trails.
Our trail highlights include Hohllay Caves, ‘The Labyrinth’, Pericop, and the stunning Wollefsschlucht (Wolves Canyon). But perhaps most striking of all is the bombardment of beauty in the Consdorf area, where we wriggle through 150 foot high canyon walls so narrow our backpacks brush both sides.
After a side trip to Vianden and its Disney-worthy castle, we continue to Germany’s oldest town of Trier. Greeting us is the Porta Nigra, or Black Gate. Constructed by Romans back in the 2nd century, it consists of 7,200 stone blocks weighing up to six tons each.
At the crack of dawn today we arrive in Nommern; a Luxembourg commune with a whopping population of 262. As we pilfer a few tasty plums from the trees at the start of the ‘Well-being Trail’, a handsome red fox trots through the field beside us in search of a tasty meal of mouse. We allow the black forest to embrace us, appreciating the fresh air and solitude on our walk through nature’s landscape.
Ending our days as Echternacherbrück-ites, we drive to Mersch to see its huge bronze dragon fountain. Then, returning the rental car in Luxembourg City, we head to Gare de Luxembourg to purchase train tickets. Tomorrow morning we plan to travel through France and into Switzerland.
In the pitch black of morning as our first train is preparing to leave the station, we are suddenly ordered to immediately vacate the train and take our bags with us. Employees are in panic-mode, as 250 kg World War II bomb has just been 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, trams and traffic diverted, and all restaurants and businesses within several blocks shut down.
The train’s crew, station employees, and passengers are all directed into town. After hours of standing around with luggage in hand we are worked up into a knot of frustration. Finally, glum news comes from police that no trains will be operating until at least tomorrow morning, and the elephant edging into the room is that all our connecting train tickets have now been compromised.
Last night’s hotel if off-limits to us as it’s now part of the lockdown area, and unable to find another hotel recommended for tonight, I ask a group of guys on the street for directions. They happen to be a multi-national crew known as the ‘green shirts’, hired by the city to keep tourists safe in the Gare district. Trained in martial arts, they include a Russian and Ukrainian who tell us with a grin they don’t mind conflict; and though they’re not allowed to start a fight, they definitely have the skills to finish one.
They inform us the reason we can’t find the hotel is because the owners recently renamed it. Designed by a famous Italian architect, the historic 1932 Hotel Perrin is decorated period correct with an absolutely charming old school vibe; and listening to Max Greger playing saxophone while having drinks in the antique-laden lounge helps soothe what has definitely been a cerebrally taxing day!
As a result of yesterday’s turmoil we must board the first of six trains today at 5:00 a.m. in order to reach Switzerland. Entering Metz in France in darkness, we mistakenly board a second train going in the wrong direction, once again invalidating the rest of our connecting tickets and creating even more delays. After another epically long day rolls by we’re happy as a butcher’s dog to arrive in Switzerland’s Lauterbrunnen Valley and shower away the strain of the train!
Switzerland is a peaceful country that appears allergic to conflict; and not taking sides, it has not been involved in a war since 1847. This is probably a good thing, as using wee red pocket knives pregnant with gizmos and gadgets as their weapon of choice, any chance of success seems on the wrong side of zero! It seems the Swiss prefer to get other countries to do their fighting for them while they ski and eat chocolate!
The country also has 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, the headstone is recycled and the grave dug up to dispose of any remaining bones and ready it for the next renter.
A few more laws making about as much sense as powdered water include the fact a windshield wiper is compulsory on a vehicle even if it doesn’t have a windshield. Say what? 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 that 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 Swiss Alps beyond. Lauterbrunnen means ‘many fountains’, and as it happens, we are staying adjacent to famous Staubbach Falls; one of the highest free-falling waterfalls in Europe.
The steep Wengeneralpbahn cogwheel train lugs us up to Wengen to begin our trek to Kline Scheidegg. With the village shrinking below us on our hike, the hills are not alive with the sound music, but instead, the sound of heavy panting from our exaggerated efforts on the lung-busting terrain. The closest we hear to music is a charming concert of clanking and clonking cowbells resonating up from the valley below.
The surrounding mountains silently observe our granddad-esque climbing pace in the rarified air of the Alps, but suddenly Christine and I become concerned. Both people and trail signs seem to have vanished quite some time ago. It doesn’t take long to realize that 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 have the good fortune to encounter an experienced Norwegian hiker who kindly offers a helpful orientation to the trail we are seeking.
Switzerland terrain looks like a Trump or Putin polygraph test! Having much more up and down than sideways, this country could fit roughly 241 times into Canada, but I suspect its footprint may be comparable should all the vertical of its muscular mountains be ironed flat and added to its borders!
After our days in Lauterbrunnen we venture higher into the enthralling mountains to the itsy-bitsy, and ever so Switzy, alpine village of Mürren. Perched precariously on the side of a mountain, car-less Murren has a sparse population of 450 people, and requires both train and cable car to reach it. The gasp-inducing vistas of the Eiger, Monch, and Jungfrau leave no-one unimpressed, and we’re elated to be sequestered away for the next four days in marvelous mile-high Murren to mingle with the mammoth, mesmerizing, mystic, and majestic mountains.
Given the heavenly location and views of the funky 1888 built Chalet Fontana, we’re 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 to gain access to her backyard chickens.
Our activity of choice is walking and lots of it, because 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 village of Gimmelwald, it feels as if we’ve wandered into some kind of fairy tale. Steep slopes are freckled with trapped in time rustic wood chalets adorned with cheerful geraniums, and storage sheds with firewood stacked in works of art. Contented cows laze about on seaweed-green grass, and in the magnificent landscape 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 stunning natural phenomenon called the ‘Alpenglow’. The sun has dropped below the horizon line, and light reflecting off moist air particles covers the snowy tops of our silent 13,000’ friends in a dazzling reddish glow. Mother Nature has us in a Zen-like trance by painting such a masterpiece on the towering beacons of beauty.
At today’s first light we’re whisked via an ear-popping cable car up the daunting Schilthorn Mountain to the village of Birg. Our purpose is to tackle a seizure-inducing experience designed for the adrenaline-obsessed called the Thrill Walk.
At an elevation of 9,744 feet the mountains are often above the clouds, but today we’re blessed with a perfectly blue September sky. As the first to arrive, we have the luxury of having the Thrill Walk all to ourselves.
As the peaks lord their beauty over us, a one-way gate reminds us that once starting there is no turning back. Unimpeded by common sense and putting a lot of faith into Swiss engineering, we enter a 650 foot structure pinned to a vertical rock cliff of Schilthorn Mountain. The dizzying heights immediately introduce our old friend adrenaline, while walking a fine line between exhilaration and cardiac arrest!
With the myriad of ways this could go wrong stirring in our cerebral shadows we tremble across the glass-bottomed floor trying to ignore the terrifying drop. Clearing that hurdle, we move on to walk a tight rope of wire cable, which segues into 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!
Having completed our task, I’m thinking a therapist would likely find this endeavor worthy of discussion! With hearts still ramming our ribcage we share a post Thrill Walk lip-lock to celebrate being back on terra firma. Our timing has been perfect, with clouds now swooping in and starting to cloak the mountains.
After hiking the craggy Grauseeli Lake loop we descend the mountain then complete today’s trifecta with a one hour jaunt up to Allmendhubel. Whew! After our 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 head down the mountain to Lauterbrunnen for a train to Zweilutschinen. In a quandary over which train connects to Grindelwald, I ask a guy waiting at the station if he might know. In a remarkable, he turns out 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 in the control car. Enjoying unimpeded panoramas during the steep incline to Grindelwald, we share some laughter with the hospitable driver which makes for a lovely start to the day.
From Grindelwald we float over an emerald valley in a gondola up to the village of First. Beside us and watching our every move is the perilous north face of the Eiger (the Ogre), menacingly responsible for claiming the lives of at least 64 climbers.
From First we hike to Lake Bacalpsee, and the vistas of the glacial water reflecting jagged snow-capped mountain peaks are about as subtle as a falling anvil. They keep urging us to take another photo, and it’s very easy to see why gorgeous Lake Bachalpsee travels around the world as a postcard!
To the delight of travelers, Switzerland is run with a by-the-book precision, and with schedules about as flexible as a crowbar transportation is always on time. However, the country’s Achilles heel is clearly its pillaging pricing. Affordable in Switzerland – I’m sorry, those words just do not compute!
Like most activities in this 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! Finding something ‘not too expensive’ here is about as rare as a Swiss declaration of war!
Moving on to Luzern we wander its historic cobblestoned streets amid towers of flowers. We cross the River Reuss using the photogenic Chapel Bridge which is cheerfully adorned by 278 wooden boxes spilling over with vibrant flowers of red. Then at the historic Musegg Wall, we climb a 580 year old structure that looks like somebody stole a vowel from its name; the Zyt Tower.
Elegant swans on Lake Lucerne looking for handouts paddle about near shore, and we do a little paddling of our own by splashing down the lake to the village of Weggis aboard the 1906 built ‘Schiller’ paddle steamboat.
Luxembourg and Switzerland may both be diminutive domains, but often, as in this case, less is more. With this year’s travels at an end, we acknowledge what a privilege it has been to immerse ourselves in the remarkable landscapes of both of these epically beautiful wee countries.
Seeing the world with Christine began way back in 1981 during my quest to realize a boyhood dream of visiting South America’s mysterious Amazon Jungle. Christine’s dream on the other hand, after reading ‘Heidi’ as a little girl, has always been to visit the ‘bite your knuckles gorgeousness’ of the Swiss Alps. Now we can be proud both that our childhood dreams have come to fruition, bookending over forty years of enticing adventures and misadventures together.
All the journeys have been enriching in their own way, and we are eternally grateful for what they have taught us about both the world and ourselves. Beyond a doubt, travel is the best gift we could have ever given ourselves.
Mark Colegrave 2022