Alpine Pedestrianism with Mark Twain

by Caroline M. Jackson

Having been intrigued by the exploits of Mark Twain in his novel A Tramp Abroad, my quest more than a century later, was to follow the Swiss section of his route from Lucerne in Central Switzerland to the Alpine spa town of Leukerbad in the southern canton of the Valais.

Thus focused, my husband and I began our adventure in the mediaeval town of Lucerne which my protagonist described as “a charming place”. Our first stop was a visit to the famous Lion Monument. Painstakingly hewn from a sandstone cliff, the massive carving of a dying lion with a spear embedded in its left flank commemorates the Swiss soldiers who died in the French Revolution. It is such a poignant sight that even visitors are quieted by its presence. Mark Twain chronicled this monument as “the most mournful and moving piece of stone in the world”.

Adjacent to the Lion Monument is the Glacier Garden, a fascinating National Natural Monument, which was accidentally uncovered in 1872 during excavations for a wine cellar. Now that the site is protected by a canvas covering, visitors can glimpse Lucerne as it was millions of years ago during the Ice Age. After examining some fossilized sea shells, I stared into a ten-meter-deep pothole at the bottom of which was a giant boulder. Mark Twain had looked down the same scourged well and commented on the smoothness of the walls caused by the “continued chafing which they gave each other in those old days. It took a mighty force to churn these big lumps of stone around in that vigorous way.”

Right next door, I couldn’t resist a visit to the Hall of Mirrors, styled after Granada’s Alhambra in Spain. Originally made in 1896 for the Swiss national exhibition, its ninety mirrors set in 124 triangles give the illusion of never-ending long corridors. There was much hilarity as international visitors walked around with hands outstretched in order to avoid colliding with fellow travelers.

The next morning, as Mark Twain did in 1878, we boarded one of the historic paddle steamers for a trip across Lake Lucerne (Vierwaldstattersee). As the boat zigzagged in and out of picturesque lakeside villages I had to agree with my 19th century hero that “in truth, a trip on that lake is almost the perfection of pleasuring. The mountains were a never ceasing marvel.”

Our first destination was the tranquil village of Weggis which is dwarfed by Mount Rigi. An impressive escarpment which stands at 1800 meters, it is fondly known as Queen of the Mountains. When a trail between Weggis and the top of the Rigi was opened in 1820, the route became part of the European Tour for many of the rich and famous including Queen Victoria who made the ascent in a sedan chair in 1868. According to our knowledgeable local guide, Heidi Brown, “People would go up to see the spectacular sunrise and the sunset from the top of the Rigi. The hotels were palatial residences and guests would often stay for weeks.” En route there were yodelers, shoe cleaners, and up to 300 porters during the summer season.

It was along this route in 1878 that Mark Twain took three exhausting days to make the uphill trip along a leafy mule-path. On the way, he was pestered by Alphorn players looking for tips and when he finally reached his destination at the Rigi Kulm Hotel, he overslept due to the ‘opiate of Alpine pedestrianism’ and missed the sunrise. The next morning, heavy cloud further thwarted his plans.

Over a century later, our experience was less challenging. Rather than taking the 10-minute aerial cable car from Weggis to the top of the Rigi, we opted to make the ascent by cog wheel railway from the nearby town of Vitznau.

A short paddle-steamer ride took us past the salubrious Park Hotel and into the boat station at Vitznau. A town of quiet elegance, it is fronted by a promenade where swallows swoop to catch their diet of Swiss muesli. Across the lake, hanging glaciers clung to mountain precipices like a table cloth laid out for God’s pleasure. This was definitely the right place for a little rest and relaxation, so we checked into the delightful Hobby Hotel Terrasse for a couple of nights.

Our room overlooked Lake Lucerne and the Vitznau train terminus. As I watched the flow of tourists boarding the train, I reflected upon Heidi’s description of travelers from a previous era: “The guests in these days weren’t like the guests of today wearing hiking boots and showing a little bit of leg. They would be wearing blouses done right up to their necks, long skirts and carry a parasol to protect them from the sun.”

On our last evening, we found ourselves aboard the little red train chugging uphill to the top of the Rigi. On board our carriage was an elderly gentleman dressed from head to toe in khaki. Sporting an impressive moustache and brandishing a .303 rifle, he nonchalantly clunked his gun on the rack above my head. A party of colorfully clad Japanese tourists wearing wide sun visors and white gloves also joined us. At the first station, an elderly Swiss lady dismounted and disappeared with her alpenstock into what looked like a music-box-style house. Her back garden was edged with walls of neatly cut lumber.

Now past the tree line, the scenery became enticing for camera buffs who vied for space at the open windows. At an almost 45 degree angle, the little red engine came to another halt to allow a dairy farmer to load his milk churns.

When our train reached the terminus at Rigi Kulm, our fellow passengers disappeared into a tunnel. At the far end, a commercial-sized elevator awaited us. The guide and his Japanese contingent were laughing politely as my husband and I were bidden to join them. The elevator door snapped closed just a few inches from my nose. Seconds later, we spilled out onto the first floor of the Rigi Kulm Hotel. Unlike Mark Twain who was met by a “crusty portier” and a “crusty clerk”, we received a warm welcome at the reception desk.

Recently updated, everything in the Hotel was spanking new and state-of-the-art. Best of all, we had an unimpeded view of the Alps so I looked forward to seeing the sunset that Mark Twain had missed. However, I was to be disappointed. An hour before sunset, a distant haze obliterated the great orb. Undeterred, I determined to awake at 5.30 am the following morning. I have to confess, however, that like Mark Twain, I was overcome by “the opiate of Alpine pedestrianism”. I missed the sunrise and never even heard my husband creeping outside to photograph this splendorous sight.

By 6.30 am, a sense of guilt propelled me from underneath my downy and I headed outside for a bracing walk. I could barely push the hotel door open against the keening wind which made me bend double as I hiked up towards the summit of the Rigi Kulm. Everything was bent including the trees and the roughly hewn wooden fences were at an odd angle. My breathing became a little labored and with only a gnarled fence between me and the abyss below, I felt a little queasy. I thought of Mark Twain who lost his way up here: “We were in a bleak unsheltered place, now, and had to trudge right along, in order to keep warm, though we rather expected to go over a precipice sooner or later.”

It was now time to complete the last part of my hero’s Swiss sojourn. Backtracking by boat to Lucerne, we took the train via the scenic Brunig Pass to Interlaken. As we sped alongside the turquoise waters of Lake Brienz, I thought of Mark Twain making the same journey in a four-horse carriage with a driver who traveled through villages on a furious run with “a frenzy of ceaseless whip crackings”. Our destination was the imposing Victoria-Jungfrau Grand Hotel which dates back to 1865. From our balcony, like Mark Twain, we had unimpeded views of the majestic Jungfrau Massif which is home to the highest railway station in Europe.

From the Bernese Oberland, Mark Twain hiked over the Gemmi Pass to spa town of Leukerbad. Not being quite as fleet-of-foot, however, we cheated and took a southern route from the town of Leuk. The precipitous journey by Post Bus was an exciting one with plunging views down into the Rhone Valley below. Half way up the mountain we were enveloped in an unexpected summer snowstorm. At an altitude of 1,400m, Leukerbad is one of the highest and largest mountain spa resorts in Europe.

With the snow falling as gently as feathers, we later ventured out to luxuriate in the warm waters of the elegant Lindner Alpentherme spa. Surrounded by a walled mountainous amphitheater, I thought of Mark Twain’s graphic description of the pools: ‘Those baths remove fat, and also skin-diseases. The patients remain in the great tanks hours at a time.’

On our last morning the sun shone from brilliant blue skies and the barren face of the Daubenhorn escarpment looked almost naked now that its cloudy petticoats had dispersed. My protagonist had been awed by the same view: “It comes down out of the clouds in a succession of rounded, colossal, terrace-like projections – a stairway for the gods.” At that moment, time stood still and it seemed that the130 years between our journeys was but an illusion

Tourism Contacts:

Switzerland Tourism: http://www.MySwitzerland.com

Lake Lucerne/Weggis area: http://www.the-best-of-lake-lucerne.ch

Leukerbad Tourism: http://www.leukerbad.ch

Travel:

Rail Europe: http://www.raileurope.ca

British Airways: http://www.britishairways.com with our transatlantic transfers through their new spacious Terminal Five at Heathrow.

Where we stayed:

Rigi Kulm Hotel:http://www.rigikulm.ch

Hobby Hotel Terrasse in Vitznau (a Swiss Historic Hotel): http://www.hobbyhotel.ch

Leukerbad: Hotel Astoria: http://www.astoria-leukerbad.ch

Images by Hamish M. Jackson

email: caroline@crestlynn.com

Web: http://www.crestlynn.com