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A Soupcon of SwitzerlandBy Caroline M. Jackson
“This is the charmingest place we have ever lived in for repose and restfulness, superb scenery whose beauty undergoes a perpetual change from one miracle to another.”
For the last section of our tripartite visit, we took a morning train to the exotic town of Lugano in the southern canton of Ticino. Bordered by Italy, this Italian-speaking part of Switzerland has a distinctly Mediterranean atmosphere. Two wooded mountains, Mount Bre and Mount San Salvatore stand sentinel at each end of Lugano and reminded me of Rio de Janeiro. Having deposited our suitcases in our hotel, we hastened towards the boat station to embark upon a tantalizing lake cruise. As we crossed the busy road, an elderly tourist tipped off the edge of the pavement and landed ungraciously at my husband’s feet. Being a man of honor, he helped her to a nearby bench while I supplied her with copious tissues to stem her facial lacerations. Once again we headed for the ticket office until strange looks from pedestrians alerted my husband to the fact that his once white shirt was somewhat bloodied. While he tried to wash himself in the nearby fountain, I tried to convince the boat captain to give us just two more minutes grace. The more I tried to explain the reason for my request, the louder became his Italian and the more people gathered around us trying to help with various gesticulations. Somehow my athletic husband jumped aboard and we were soon headed for the picturesque town of Gandria.
We spent the rest of the day walking along the lake front, admiring the garden sculptures and appreciating the coolness inside many historic churches. In the evening we dined alfresco and afterwards enjoyed listening to a public open-air concert under the stars. Switzerland Tourism: http://www.MySwitzerland.com Lake Lucerne: http://www.lakelucerne.ch Lugano Tourism: http://www.lugano-tourism.ch Swiss Travel System: http://www.rail.ch Images by Hamish M. Jackson |
TM
It
was a fresh May morning. Wavelets gently lapped against Lake Lucerne’s
shoreline. The nocturnal croaking of the frogs had been replaced by
shrilling swifts in search of a muesli breakfast of mosquitoes. A cool
breeze shifted the veil of mist and life stirred in the lakeside village of
Weggis in Central Switzerland. Below my balcony, a uniformed tour director,
clipboard in hand, counted the valises lined outside our hotel. I was not
alone in my musings. Novelist Mark Twain had also been enamoured by this
village:
Eager
to explore this slice of paradise, I shouldered my backpack and walked to
the nearby boat station cum visitor center. Determined to shake off our
transatlantic jetlag, my husband and I opted for a refreshing hike along the
escarpment behind Weggis. Known as the Rigi Kulm which stands at 1800 m., it
is a mere infant compared to the Eiger and the Jungfrau which top 4000 m. An
enclosed gondola whisked us above Weggis and over pristine alpine meadows
dotted with red-and-white Simmental cows. I pondered on the fact that a
century ago, the elite including Queen Victoria, were carried up the slopes
in sedans and chairs. Isolated from all traffic, the Rigi was indeed a
perfect place for hiking and picnicking and our return by cog railway was
exhilarating.
The
next morning was crystal clear so, taking advantage of our Swiss Rail Pass,
we traveled to the mountain resort of Engelberg at the base of snowy Mount
Titlis (3020 m). Our final ascent was aboard a revolving gondola which
looked like a giant blue and white tuna can. At the summit station we
put our non-slip-hiking boots to the test by taking an eerie walk through
the ice tunnels of the Glacier Grotto. Afterwards we joined the throngs of
warmly clad visitors and skiers who were basking in deck chairs on the sun
terrace. With much laughter and slipping, a colorful
delegation
of sari-clad ladies was scouting out the glacier as a prospective film
location. Leaning over the steep precipice, I forfeited my packed
lunch to the mountain birds that deftly caught morsels on the wing.
Feeling a little chilly, we returned to the valley to visit the Benedictine
monastery and cheese factory in Engelberg. A little more conservative than
the magnificent Baroque Abbey in nearby Einsiedeln, the bucolic setting
alone would bring peace to the even the most troubled soul. 
My
favorite waterways are the twin lakes of Thun and Brienz which are separated
by the Victorian resort town of Interlaken. From here steamers zigzag across
the lakes calling at picture-perfect villages such as the fairytale castle
at Oberhofen. At Merligen on Lake Thun, we disembarked for a hike up to the
St. Beatus caves once inhabited by an Irish monk. The guided tour took us
through a limestone forest of stalactites and stalagmites and beside
pristine underground lakes. A must-see on Lake Brienz is the Ballenberg
open-air museum. Spread over 200 acres of countryside, visitors are
introduced to more than 80 century-old buildings transported from almost
every canton. Although we kept up a reasonable pace, we only succeeded in
covering a third of the area so it is earmarked for a return visit. 
For
a little cultural diversity, we decided to leave the German-speaking area
and explore the French-speaking part by travelling west to Neuchatel.
A town with a relaxed atmosphere, shoppers linger in the street markets and
cafes spill out onto cobblestone streets. Its historic center is a hilly,
heart-stopping climb up to its 12th century castle, church and prison tower.
From the ramparts we absorbed the breathtaking view across Lake Neuchatel
and the hills clothed in vineyards. From the marina, we took a leisurely
boat trip through the canal to the fortified town of Murten. This place is
truly a historical gem and we spent the rest of the day wandering along the
city walls, ramparts and towers.
The
following day was a Sunday and to our delight we found the centre of town
was awash with an antiques fair. Stalls were packed with books, food, and
interesting objets d’art. The atmosphere was casual and in fact so
casual that one visitor accidentally knocked over a Roman vase with his
backpack. The distressed vendor immediately summoned the local police on her
cell phone and when we passed the area an hour later, bystanders were still
trying to give their version of the story while the police took copious
notes.