Interlaken

Interlaken

Originally, the plan was to go to Zurich and Geneva to get a good grasp for what Switzerland is all about. We’d hit the big cities and lakes, do some hiking, get some inside guys with the U.N., try to move here, and go bankrupt in a week. Most of that remained true, particularly the bankrupt part, but the decision to switch Zurich and Geneva for the two tiny Swiss towns Lucerne and Interlaken was possibly the best of the trip. 

The train in was full of what I dreamed Switzerland to be, but didn’t realize was actually possible. Blue and green lakes, rivers that rivaled the mighty Missouri but excluded dead animals, snow capped alps, and Swiss cheese and chocolate flowing down the mountains, off of waterfalls and into my mouth. This country is magical. In fact, the streets are so pristine, the alps and rivers are so pure, that we’ve been desperately searching for the country’s faults. It’s too beautiful, too perfect. Taxes? Everyone has too much money? Mountain sheep overpopulation? People are TOO nice? Swiss army knife factory accidents? Short life expectancy from drowning in Swiss chocolate? Unclear, still searching.

We did find one thing that can ruin Interlaken, a tourist-ridden hiking town, though: rain. Not even rain, actually, just clouds. Clouds polluted day one. Our plan, naturally, was to reach one of the highest points behind the town, Harder mountain. It would have certainly been Harder had we made the two hour vertical hike, but a funicular with a 64-degree incline took care of that 1300-meter climb in 8 minutes. Within 2 minutes, we were within a palace of clouds, wondering if we had taken a wrong turn and gone to heaven. Except this heaven was full of drizzled trees and the visibility was 30 feet and there weren’t any Husker legends and old friends and family and saints to hang out with, as I expect Heaven to have.

We were slightly downtrodden, and resorted to taking pictures of postcards to just act like we saw what they showed. We actually started taking pictures of any clearance in the clouds at all – “I think that’s a building!! Wait…nope it’s gone.” We decided to hike around the peak and as it turns out, when the peak is within a cloud, you can’t really walk through it or brush it aside. I tried.

After we considered leaving around 6, the lord heard our calls for help, and the clouds slowly started moving away. I began cheering for them to move like I was at a horse race – COME ON, GIDDYUP! GO! GO! GO! Except this race lasted about an hour and a half and the jockeys were condensation. Nonetheless, for some divine reason, the clouds broke. And we saw our postcard. And our postcard looked like Heaven. 5 hours of staring at white walls was well worth the wait.

Some pictures of the miracle unfolding:

Ok so we look like we're entering Mordor but it should be fine

Beautiful right?!

Does our happiness look fake? It was

LOOK WE WERE HERE

Is that a...there's a lake down there?!?

THERE'S TWO LAKES?!

AND THEY'RE BOTH BEAUTIFUL!?

celebratory dinner here seemed mandatory.

Day 2

Today we planned a day trip to Gimmelwald, a tiny town in the alps. Beforehand, Bec was feeling her annual ‘Let’s do something extreme,’ surge, and signed us up for paragliding. In the morning, though, our cloud friends were back. Bec cancelled the trip, only to receive an email an hour later, saying we’d actually have to pay for the whole trip, $160 each. To keep a long saga short, I ended up doing my best lawyer impersonation, calling upon the injustices of the world and bringing down the hammer via e-mail argument, and the final email from Twin Paragliding read: ‘It’s ok. Have a nice trip.’ A little anti-climactic. But a victory for Andrew J.D.

We set out instead, taking approximately 5 forms of transportation en route, and didn’t return until the sun forced us to. We hiked 12 miles, and every minute was amazing although I couldn’t feel my feet for the last few miles. Sometimes I played a game where I would close my eyes and try and remember every detail of what I was staring at. This was never successful as I am not very smart and there was simply too much to take in. 

Caution: Children at Play

 Two minor hiccups occurred on the trek: 1) The cow invasion and 2) The time we almost died on a mountain climbers’ bridge thousands of feet in the air without cables

The cow invasion was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. Yes, I’m from Nebraska and all my East coast BC friends have asked at least once if I rode a cow to school. But this was different. Sitting peacefully along our perch over the alps, well, suddenly became not so peaceful. Cows. Tens of cows. All these cows adorned with cowbells slowly migrated toward us. This was cool at first, until they started circling us, like sharks in the water. Some just stood and stared, like we had entered their unwritten gang territory. We didn’t really know the protocol. Do we scare them? Give them food? Do cows like apples? Sandwiches?  Instead, we took some selfies, and scurried away slowly from our thousand pound creature friends, leaving them an adorable 70+ couple to feast on. 

Just enjoying the sites...

Oh hey look some cows...

...OH MY GOD. COWS.

...NOT SURE HOW TO PROCEED

Now what?

Sorry sir, leaving now. Also, your home is beautiful.

Bec did get a video, and I believe it to be the most epic video I have ever seen, as she accidentally recorded it in slow motion. Watch as the death bells start ringing, as if the grim reaper has arrived, and the cows stare into our souls. 

Second issue: taking unmarked trails in the Alps. Seemed like a good idea at the time to try and cross a bridge a couple thousand feet in the air to quench Becca’s adrenaline urges. When we found ourselves stuck behind an electric fence on a farm leading to the path, and subsequently on a 2-foot wide ridge, holding a cable just to reach said bridge, and finally reaching the bridge and noticing that it required technical climbing gear and some inkling of climbing experience, we concluded we’d probably made a tiny mistake. Which could have possibly led to death. But the views were amazing! 

Something seems wrong here.

You're doing great Bec, just don't step two inches to your left

The rest of the hike was exactly as one would imagine the Swiss Alps to be, and was capped off by a stop in Gimmelwald, a town of maybe 100, which hosts hikers to the best of its abilities. One hostel required hikers to leave a mark on a chalkboard before their morning departure next to their room indicating if they would to receive the only dinner option being offered that day on their return.  One big thing stood out in this town, other than the stunning 360 degree views at every turn: The Honesty Shop. The honesty shop was an entire store with clothing, food, drinks, etc., but nobody patrolled it. Nothing but your honesty kept you in check. Envelopes were left at the front to write your price, include your money, and a message. In the U.S., this place would get looted faster than New Orlean’s Best Buy following Hurricane Katrina – THANKS FOR THE FREE FOOD DUMMIES! Here, the messages on the envelopes created a montage of inspiration on their walls. Incredible.

Again, words can only go so far in describing this day of hiking. Pictures can only do marginally better, but enjoy!

How is this even possible?? This place is magical

We have a knack for finding nice porch hang outs

...and eating dinner on cliffs

Tomorrow, Katie Pappas and Aaron Fried make their first appearances on the blog as we link up in Paris. This promises nothing but the best of times. Paris will actually feel cheap in comparison to Switzerland, where I have been stealing breakfasts from our hostels daily to serve as lunch just to avoid defaulting on my credit card, but we'll miss our favorite country ever.