Interlaken, Switzerland

Instead of returning the way we had entered the Chamonix valley, we continued northeast on a much smaller road. Winding our way through the mountains across the Swiss-French border, we finally left the scenic route for quicker highway driving in Martigny. The trip would have been three hours had we not made frequent stops for pictures at various scenic vistas, but also could have been much longer had we opted to take the more direct route. The choice to stick to the highway took us north to Berne, then south again, driving along the shore of Lake Thun before finally entering Interlaken.

Named for the location between Lakes Thun and Brienz, the city is at the foot of the Eiger (Ogre), Mönch (Monk) and Jungfrau (virgin) mountains. With the white water rafting, parasailing, hang gliding, mountain climbing, etc. available in the area, Interlaken is a terrific base for adventure traveling, but we were in town more for the mountain vistas. After checking into the hotel we hopped back into the car and drove south, winding our way higher and higher into the Jungfrau region on a small mountain road. The Lauterbrunnen valley is world-famous for the skiing, rock-climbing, hiking, snowboarding and mountain-climbing, but I believe the postcard-perfect views alone would be worthy of the fame.

We stopped in Lauterbrunnen, full of Swiss chalets and home to Staubbach Falls. With sheer cliffs rising on both sides of the valley and mountains behind mountains visible in the distance, I can see why Goethe dedicated Gesang der Geister über den Wassern (Song of the Spirits above the Waters) to the ethereal, 1,000ft waterfall.

Gesang der Geister über den Wassern

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Des Menschen Seele gleicht dem Wasser:

Vom Himmel kommt es, zum Himmel steigt es,

und wieder nieder zur Erde muß es, ewig wechselnd.

Strömt von der hohen, steilen Felswand der reine Strahl,

dann stäubt er lieblich in Wolkenwellen zum glatten Fels,

und leicht empfangen, wallt er verschleiernd,

leisrauschend zur Tiefe nieder.

Ragen Klippen dem Sturz entgegen,

schäumt er unmutig stufenweise zum Abgrund.

Im flachen Bette schleicht er das Wiesental hin,

und in dem glatten See weiden ihr Antlitz alle Gestirne.

Wind ist der Welle lieblicher Buhler;

Wind mischt vom Grund aus schäumende Wogen.

Seele des Menschen, wie gleichst du dem Wasser!

Schicksal des Menschen, wie gleichst du dem Wind!

Song of the Spirits above the Waters

(loose translation using translate.google with some fiddling - to give you a general idea)

The human soul is like water:

It comes from heaven, it rises to heaven,

and again to the earth it must return, ever changing.

It flowed from the heights, a pure jet on the steep rock face,

Then it dusted lovely waves of clouds to the smooth rock,

and when hit by the light, it flowed like a veil,

with the slightest rustling to the depths.

Cliffs loom up against the falls,

It angrily froths in stages to the abyss.

In its flat bed it creeps through the meadow,

and in the glassy lake its face grazes all the stars.

 Wind is the sweet wave;

 Wind mixes from the ground in foamy waves.

 Soul of man, how do you like the water!

 Fate of the people, you are like the wind!

After a short stroll we found a comfy restaurant to dine in. The whole experience had the feel of a movie set, complete with quaint chalets with porches facing the valley (don’t forget the blooming red geraniums hanging in baskets from the railings and window baskets), and cowbells clinking in the distance (although we saw only sheep, so sheepbells?).

One more addition to my growing list of places I wish to return to someday. Maybe with a good pair of hiking shoes and a backpack instead of an infant and a toddler. We’ll see.

The next morning we headed back up the valley, this time turning east towards Grindelwald, in the shade of Eiger mountain. Quite an urban little village complete with touristy centre, we opted to keep climbing and eventually found a hotel with ice cream shop and outdoor seating area. The meadows and pastures were in bloom, and the one across from our ice cream stop proved too tempting a photo opportunity.

I believe we spent more than a few hours lazing away in the grass and eating ice cream, in complete awe that some lucky people can call the majestic surroundings “home.”

On the drive down to Interlaken I kept craning my head back to try to find the one perfect spot to take a picture; on our drives in one particular place had caught my attention as having the valley with layer after layer of mountains fading off into the distance. Now I know that the whole drive was picturesque, only it is hard to find spots to pull over for pictures. Note: hike entire valley!

Interlaken served us well as a base for explorations, as well as providing a store full of kitsch to pick out our own cowbells, cuckoo clocks and souvenir magnets. Swiss knives and yodeling horns abound! Souvenirs in hand, we continued on to Freiburg that day. Soon would be the moment I had been anticipating ever since the Kalamazoo grandmother had arrived in France; we would see Kalamazoo grandpa and would be able to introduce him to his newest grandson!

Petite Suisse Luxembourgeoise

The forests, pastures, heathland and rock formations of the Germano-Luxembourg national park haved earned the next stop on our itinerary the title of Petite Suisse Luxembourgeoise. Little Switzerland did have an uncanny resemblance to what little of the real Switzerland I’ve seen, and I’m very happy we took the slight detour to see it. We could have spent two to three days hiking along one of the rivers, exploring a gorge, scrambling through the rock formations or hiking one of the many long-distance trails, but we only had the morning. In addition, we had dreary weather and two enfants that wouldn’t be able to pull their weight in a 20-mile hike. So instead of the 10 km hike I had dreamed of I settled for the Michelin guide driving tour of the region with quite a few stops to see the highlights.

Only 30 minutes from Luxembourg, we started in the Müllerthal, the name given to the Ernz Noire valley. Trails crisscrossed the valley, and more than a few tourists had braved the chilly weather to explore. We stopped at the Hallerback river for a hike, and spent a lovely hour following the river through first a short section of planted pine, then through a deciduous hardwood forest filled with giant beeches, hornbeam, birch and oak to a small series of waterfalls. We didn’t see any of the areas wild boar (which is a good thing!) but did spot some cows in the pasture, and some giant slugs. Maybe it wasn’t the day for wildlife?

The spot we spent the most time in was on the road from Berdorf to the Müllerthal. The giant rock formations rose alternately on either side of the road, and a few of the biggest had parking areas and trails so that visitors could take a closer look. Predigstuhl was a pulpit-shaped rock and the Werchrumschluff was just beyond it. Narrow stairs leading into crevices, bridges crossing to rocky pinnacles, and sandstone rising up on all sides, it reminded me of a cross between the Garden of the Gods in Illinois and a park famous for rock climbing somewhere in Georgia that I once visited with a friend (help me out Styron, do you remember the name?). It turns out we were in for another rock climbing mecca experience on this trip albeit back in France, but more on that in a later post.

If Lauris hadn’t fallen asleep once we were back in the car, we might have stopped in the Gorge du Loup (gorge of the wolf) for another quick walk. Once more a network of well-worn paths connected the valleys, and we could even identify the one particular trail that had been recommended to me (but was 11 km long) that runs a loop from Echternach and back. Echternach, the tourist center of the region, is also known for the remains of the abbey founded there in 698 by a missionary from England, and after driving through the quaint little town we turned east and crossed the Sûre river, cutting through a corner of Germany to reach our next destination, the Hautes Fagnes in Belgium.

Lausanne, Switzerland and Lago Maggiore in Italy

On our way east we stopped at Lago di Garda, in close proximity to Verona, and enjoyed the detour very much. Beautiful scenery that differed from everything we had seen in France as well as Roberts’s love of water influenced our decision to take a different way home from Milan than through Torino, as we had come almost two weeks earlier. Driving north would take us to Lago Maggiore, perhaps the most famous of the Italian lakes.

These lakes in northern Italy are of glacial origin, narrow and long. Lago Maggiore is sheltered by the Alps and has a mild climate which allows for lush vegetation and colorful displays of flowers. We jumped off the main highway near Arona to take the smaller road closer to the lake, and spent the next couple of hours cruising up the west shore of the lower third of the lake, stopping often to admire the scenery and stretch our legs. Near Stressa we explored the option of taking a ferry to Isole Borromee, three islands belonging to the princely Borromeo family since the 16^th century. In the 17^th, Charles III established a residence on Isola Bella, named after his wife, and this palace is one of the major tourist destinations in Maggiore. Isola Madre is supposedly covered with gardens of flowers and rare/exotic plants, and the third island, Isola Pescatori still has a little fishing village. As Lauris chose this time to take a nap, we did not embark on a ferry journey, but instead decided to capitalize on the nap time of our most vocal passenger and continue north. After all, we had done plenty of the “ferry thing,” now was time for the “mountain thing.”

At the Simplon pass

And wow! Immediately upon entering Switzerland my jaw dropped, the scenery was just WOW! We pulled off at a little rest area at the Simplon pass, to snack and enjoy the mighty Alps surrounding us. Wow.

We ate dinner in Visp, a good meal of fish and potatoes, and for the first time since moving to France, Roberts looked to me for my language skills; I had chosen to study German in high school, and although the German spoken in Switzerland is reportedly not identical to German, I was able to understand enough to converse. This was short lived however, as we upon arrival in Lausanne we found that the proximity to France means French was the language of choice. For the curious, the official languages of Switzerland are German, French, Italian and Romansh (and the currency the Swiss Franc, which we had completely forgotten about having become so used to using euros wherever we go!).

Lausanne proved to be quite quaint, with its cobblestone streets and big Gothic cathedral in the middle of old town. That was our first stop the next morning, Cathédrale de Notre Dame, built in the 12^th and 13^th centuries. A walk through the nearby streets revealed a slight hitch in our plans; every street had a steep incline, the altitude change to Lake Geneva must have been 300 meters, and there was no way I was climbing back up, pushing the stroller up, that progressive incline to return to the car! So we drove down, and parked next to the Parc Olympique, located in Lausanne because it is home to the International Olympic Committee.

The Lausanne cathedral

The lakeside district is called Ouchy, and we strolled the boardwalk, enjoyed a pizza, checked out the playground, and spent at least an hour in a hundred-meter long wading pool with various fountains and waterfalls. To a family with a toddler, this pool was Lausanne’s best feature, and were it not for the call of home, we might have stayed longer.

Ouchy!