IN AND AROUND KANDERSTEG

WEDNESDAY, 18^TH SEPTEMBER, THE LOTSCHBERGER SUDRAMPE

Kandersteg has the slightly odd ambience of a tourist town just out of season – like an ageing beauty, the signs of past glory are there, but now looking slightly faded around the edges.  The large terraces outside the hotels are empty, their umbrellas furled, and the town sits rather sullenly under a permanently grey sky.  However, the reason behind our itinerary’s three day stay here is immediately apparent when you look at what lies on Kandersteg’s doorstep.  The topography of the town would suggest that it is an isolated town surrounded by mountains and disconnected from the world around it, but not at all.  By the ingeniousness of Swiss engineering at its best, Kandersteg is linked to its neighbouring valley, and indeed countries,  by a rail system which simply goes through the mountains.  The Swiss are understandably proud of this huge achievement, and our first walking tour from Kandersteg gave us an opportunity to fully appreciate the enormous imagination, tenacity and skill of the railway designers and builders. 

Travelling by train from Kandersteg through the Lotschberg Tunnel reminded me of a film I had seen as a teenager.  A plane crashes and several people are lost on a snow covered mountain side.  When they crawl through a tiny opening in the wall of the mountain they enter a world that is permanently in summer and where no-one ever ages – a true “Shangri-La”.    Sadly I can’t vouch for the anti-ageing benefits, but arriving on the other side of the mountain from Kandersteg into the “Lotschberger-Sudrampe” was not dissimilar.  The grey drizzle we had left behind was replaced with sunshine which grew steadily stronger as the day progressed.  The south facing mountain sides were covered with vineyards and orchards, and in the valley below the fast flowing river was an artery which united a valley full of industrial activity and busy townships. 

The busy valley below the Lotschberger Sudrampe walk

Our original plan was to get off the train at Hohtenn and then take a walk which follows the railway line around the side of the mountain to Eggerberg which lies further up the valley, from where we would catch a train back to Kandersteg.  Neither Anthony nor I are linguists, and certainly neither of us have any German between us, so our first mistake was assuming that the train would stop at every station, as they do in England.  Not so!  The Swiss have a far more efficient system whereby the train will only stop at the smaller stations on request.  This we discovered after Hohtenn whizzed by without the train stopping!  Once we realised our mistake we had to quickly get up to speed and reschedule our walk to go in the opposite direction!  We left the train at Eggerberg and began our 5 hour hike back towards Hohtenn, contouring around the mountain sides, and gaining a wonderful insight into human determination and ingenuity at its very best.  Vast bridges and viaducts spanned the deep gorges which were gouged into the mountain sides, and tunnel after tunnel appeared, not only for the train running around the mountain side below us,  but also on our hiking trail, with sometimes up to 7 or 8 tunnels in quick succession.  We were able to experience the quite extraordinary sensation of literally walking through the sides of a mountain.

Tunnels for trains, and on the left, for trekkers, each as remarkable as the other

We came across a mountain hut at Ranerchumma and drank in the sunshine over a delicious lunch of Rosti, before hurrying on to reach Hohtenn within the hour to catch the next train for Kandersteg.

My first ever Rosti - I'm sorry but the English breakfast isn't a patch on this!

The path was a wonderful variation of tiny track which literally clung limpet like to the mountain side under overhanging rocks, to slippery earth trails under the trees with fast flowing channels of water running beside them.  In some places, the “path” was actually the edge of one of these channels, on one side water and rock face, and on the other – a very long fall!  Luckily metal hand rails on the rock face provided much needed reassurance!   In one place, the channel was actually made out of interlocking halves of huge logs which had been dug out to form a gutter, which made an interesting juxtaposition between the modern day engineering we were witnessing with the railway line and an ancient but equally effective form of engineering in wood. 

Coming through yet another of the many tunnels on our path, we caught a glimpse of our first chamois.  Sadly I wasn’t fast enough to reach my camera before this lithe creature made mockery of our need for paths and tunnels by leaping around a protruding outcrop on the mountain face and swiftly disappearing from view.

The path suddenly descended and we crossed a deep gorge on a metal suspension bridge, which then turned into a series of steep metal steps which followed the rock face of the gorge down towards the water crashing below.  I couldn’t quite believe what was happening, as the metal steps actually took us virtually behind a cascade, with the bottom step flooded by the rushing waters.  Behind this step was a large plank, which appeared to be blocking our way.  I was just starting to think we must have gone horribly wrong when Anthony pointed out a switch in the rock face above me, which I pushed and suddenly the way forward was revealed.  Stepping gingerly onto the flooding metal step and over the plank, a lit tunnel led us through the mountain from behind the waterfall.  It really was like something out of “Boy’s Own” and great fun!

Finally we reached Hohtenn, with ten minutes to spare before the next hourly train, and so were feeling very pleased with ourselves and quite elated by what had been an incredible walk.  Suddenly the air of elation evaporated as we searched for the railway station, and saw a sign for “Hohtenn Station – 55 minutes”.  How could this be?  We asked a local man, and my heart sank when he pointed to a large cross on the skyline high above the village – that was Hohtenn Station, where we stood was Hohtenn Village.  Somewhere we had lost too much height on our walk and taken the wrong trail, leading us well short of our destination.  There was nothing for it but to begin the long, hot climb up a very stony mountain side to the station above, made even more frustrating by the sound of our train whistling by over our heads without us.

Hoftenn Station at last  - time to cool down and reflect - "Act in haste - repent at leisure!"

However, this small setback didn’t detract from what had been a fantastic day in the sun, marvelling at how man has overcome the natural obstacle of mountains, and connected a country that could be so easily isolated and locked in by its natural topography to the world around it.

THE GEMMI PASS - THURSDAY, 19^TH SEPTEMBER

The weather conditions which deteriorated so quickly at the beginning of the week have slightly been preoccupying our thoughts and determining our plans, but fortunately things are improving, so much so that we were able to make this walk up to the Gemmi Pass at 2,346 metres.  This ancient and popular pathway between the Bernese Oberland and the Valais region has been a trading route for hundreds of years.   It is set amidst glorious alpine scenery with far reaching views from the Pass itself towards the Weisshorn and Matterhorn.   Once again our day began in mist and cloud and as we headed down to the bus station to catch a bus to the cable car station at Sunnbuel we could only hope that the day would brighten.  The cable car ride did little to allay our fears, as far from punching through the overlying cloud as we ascended, we could see very little as the thick wet cloud enveloped our little bubble.  Perhaps luck wasn’t going to be on our side today as it had been yesterday.

We decided to sit it out at the top, and I made the waiter’s day by ordering the house special, coffee with a good slug of grog!  I think he was well impressed that I could drink this at 9.00am!!  We drank our coffee, poured over our maps and waited for the miraculous unveiling of promised scenic delights, but it just wasn’t going to happen.  Eventually, we decided to set out and just make our way gently towards to first stop en route to the Pass, the Schwarenbach Hotel, the oldest mountain hotel in Switzerland, and a destination for many famous names.  Conan Doyle has Sherlock Holmes spend a night here in one of his novels, and Pablo Picasso, Mark Twain, Lenin and Alexandre Dumas were also once visitors to this isolated but beautiful hotel.  Our walk, although cloaked in cloud, was still beautiful in its mystery.  One could sense that around and above us, there was a magical world just waiting to be revealed, and sure enough, an hour and a half later as we sat enjoying a late breakfast of Rosti at the Schwarenbach, the long awaited sun began to burn through, and the mountain tops with which we had been playing hide and seek all morning began to reveal themselves in their pristine white glory, flurries of snow billowing gracefully from their peaks.  But the game wasn’t over yet – as we scurried to be back out on the path and appreciating the sun, another veil of cloud descended.  Before I had time to photograph this wonderfully historic hotel, she was evaporating before my eyes behind a veil of cloud, like the vapours of a dream not quite remembered in the light of morning.

Playing hard to get - the views on the ascent to Gemmi

We pushed on regardless, and as we climbed slowly, more and more blue sky appeared above us.  Then, the highlight of the day – a vast bird gliding along the mountainsides – a huge eagle gave us the most wonderfully graceful display and flew by so closely it was almost unnerving.  We stood watching in awe for a good 15 minutes, hoping it was going to treat us to another close encounter.  We felt so lucky to have seen this, and so now we have black squirrels, marmots, chamois and an eagle to tick off our list of Swiss wildlife!

The sighting of this majestic eagle will remain a highlight of the trip

The path towards the Pass skirts alongside the Daubansee – a beautiful mountain lake, before rising up again to the Pass.  Conditions were steadily improving, and we were now able to enjoy walking in shirtsleeves in bright sunshine, with a light breeze.  Above us, more and more peaks filled the skyline, whilst behind us towards the Schwarenbach, the cloud sat low, like a stubborn child, arms folded and refusing to budge.  At last we were able to appreciate the much awaited glory of this alpine haven, and it certainly didn’t disappoint.

After a celebratory hot chocolate at the Gemmi Pass, all that was required was the descent!  Feeling on top form with the sun on my back, and fantastic views all around, I had toyed with the idea of simply walking down to the thermal springs at Leukerbad, and hour and a half away.  Fortunately Anthony stuck to the original plan, and booked our tickets on the cable car down.  As we descended I was hugely grateful that we were travelling by cable car.  The path to descent from Gemmi was carved into the rocky face of the mountain side below us, a treacherous combination of zig-zagging path, vertical steps and sheer knee-jarring horror.    How they managed this centuries ago, with mules and sedan chairs as transport, beggars belief.  As Mark Twain wrote: “We met a few men and a great many ladies in litters; it seems to me that most of the ladies looked pale and nauseated; their general aspect gave me the idea that they were patiently enduring a horrible suffering.  As a rule, they looked at their laps and left the scenery to take care of itself.”  I can see why!

Not knowing quite what to expect at Leukerbad, we were pleasantly surprised by this quaint town, its lovely timber houses meandering down the main street, the fast flowing river at its heart, and the coffee shops and restaurants full of people sitting out and basking in the warm September sunshine.    We made our way to the thermal baths, and enjoyed the strange sensation of swimming in bath temperature water under an open sky rimmed with snow capped mountains.  Even Anthony (never knowingly gets wet!), couldn’t help but appreciate the attraction of this peculiarly European idea of therapeutic bathing. 

Leukerbad with its spectacular backdrop

 

Thermal baths at Leukerbad - a peculiarly European past time

We made our bus out of Leukerbad with minutes to spare, and then marvelled at the Swiss transport system as we seamlessly connected bus with train to Leuk, and the train from Leuk to Brig and finally connecting train to Kandersteg, each scheduled within a minute or two of each other, but each one 100% punctual and each connection made seamlessly. 

It has been another wonderful day.  The weather is now much improved and our proposed high alpine trek tomorrow to Adelboden is looking more hopeful.   As much as I have enjoyed exploring in and around Kandersteg, I am excited at the prospect of arriving somewhere new tomorrow.  

PASSING THE TEST AT THE SIFFENENFURGGE PASS!

It's good news!  My eyes were barely open before Anthony was dressed and heading down to Reception to get the latest weather update and find out if we would be able to take the high route option to Griesald. Fortunately, although we had heavy rain yesterday afternoon, and again in the night, the view was that the low lying cloud that was making visibility so poor in Murren would not be at the top of the mountains, and the way would be clear for us to cross over to our next destination of Kandersteg via the Siffenenfurge Pass at 2612 metres.  Our host at the hotel confirmed this with a phone call to the mountain restaurant at Schilthorn (well known to James Bond fans!) and we were good to go.  We ate a hearty breakfast, doubling up on our "piece" ration knowing we had a full day ahead, and were out the door at 8.00am.
Murren was indeed enveloped in cloud, and we walked through the streets of this quaint vehicle free village, dodging little boys on their scooters happily chattering together as they disappeared into the gloom on their way to school.
The exit from Murren was steep, but as we climbed the murkiness did begin to gradually clear.  We were quickly overtaken by two Swiss lads we had seen at Murren the night before, and it was reassuring to know that they too were making their way to the pass.   Soon we were above the cloud and and enjoying magnificent views of the mountain tops, floating on a sea of white cloud.

Above the cloud level and looking back towards Murren

 Soon the path began to traverse along the side of a scree slope, and as the stiffness from the day before subsided and the ground levelled out, we were able to get into our stride and speed up the pace, but not for long.  Drifts of cloud kept coming across our path, and as the scree turned into open meadow, it was very difficult to see from one red and white way marker to the next.  Anthony quite rightly reminded me of the necessity of staying close together, as should one of us wander off mistaking the path it would be very difficult to find each other again.  Eyes straining for the next way mark, we made our way steadily across the meadow, getting a start as a great moon-white face of a cow suddenly appeared out of nowhere!

After two hours we reached the Rotstockhutte, and decided to go in for a energising hot chocolate and a weather update.   Our two Swiss lads were already enjoying the enveloping warmth of the hut and a cup of tea, and the hut host spoke very good English so we were able to get an update on the current conditions.  Were we being stupid to continue?  Conditions, if anything, were worsening since we had left Murren.  His view was that the day was only going to get "uglier", however, if we were to press on quickly, and make the pass before the worst of the weather came in the afternoon we would be OK.  After a quick assessment of our boots (they got the thumbs up luckily!), he was happy for us to go on, suggesting that we sign into his log book and get the mountain hut at Griesalp to phone through to him when we arrived, so that a search party could be sent out if we didn't make it.  (Reassuring!)  The night before we had logged into Anthony's mobile phone the number of our destination, and the emergency number in Switzerland.  The Rotstockhutte also provided us with another number for the helicopter rescue service.  He explained that it was not the ascent that would pose the problem, but the very steep descent which would be dangerous if conditions worsened, particularly if the snow which had been forecast for the afternoon began to fall.  Should we "get a bad feeling" he urged us to retrace our steps to his hut, and spend the night there.  Feeling happy that we were figuratively wearing both belt and braces, and had put all sensible precautions in place, we took the advice we were given and quickly made our farewells and pressed on.

As we climbed higher, the amount of rain that had fallen the previous day was made obvious by the fact that the stony path we were climbing was now a small stream running under our feet.  I picked my way carefully, not wanting to have wet feet at this early stage in the day, with many miles still ahead of us.  The cloud lifted a little again, and we were able to enjoy wonderful sights, including a glimpse of the revolving restaurant on top of the Schilthorn, high above us at 2,960 metres, where Anthony helpfully informed me they serve Krug '56!  No champagne corks popping for me though - we still had 10 kms of hard work ahead of us, and a deadline to meet.  We had set a goal to be at the Pass no later than midday, to ensure we were up and over the Siffenenfurgge and safely tucked up at the Golderli Griesalp mountain hotel by 2.30pm at the latest.

Bond country - a glimpse of the Schilthorn summit between the clouds

Light rain was falling, but conditions were not too bad.  Eventually the rocky grass terrain gave way to scree, and looming above us was the reality of the Siffenenfurgge.  I could just make out two tiny brightly coloured dots half way up the slope, our Swiss friends, who seemed to be completely stationary on the horribly steep scree slope, but after watching for a moment or two I could see that they were moving, but painfully slowly.  This looked to my amateur eyes horribly like mountaineering - and not what I had signed up for at all!  I was a tiny bit relieved as we approached nearer to the base of the Pass to see that in fact traversing the scree slope was a barely discernible path, which zigzagged its way across its face, disappearing around rocky clumps before reappearing again, and then finally disappearing altogether well below the summit of the Pass.  There was nothing for it but to get on with the job at hand, and we began the slow and relentless climb, my concerns about ascending the Pass completely overshadowed by my greatest fear of all - getting down the other side!  Going downhill has never been my strong point!

Putting a brave face on at the base of the Siffenenfurgge Pass

After a gruelling 20 minutes, we made the summit of the Pass, and paused for hastily taken photographs and to refuel with our sandwiches before beginning the dreaded descent.  It was naturally much colder and we put on our waterproof trousers in preparation for the inevitable rain.  I realised suddenly that my hands were wet and horribly cold, and cursed as I tried to get freezing cold, wet fingers into my new gloves, jamming the fingers home and now really wanting to just get moving again and get warm.

I had deliberately managed to avoid looking over the ridge at what lay ahead, but now there was no alternative but to look at what was in store.  Literally hundreds of wooden steps had been dug into an incredibly steep scree and Anthony led the way down this extraordinary staircase.  I kept my eyes firmly fixed down at my feet and my mind focused on each and every step, not daring to look left or contemplate what could happen if I missed a step or stumbled.  If I began to let those sort of thoughts enter my head, the journey down would be twice as agonising and three times as slow.  Eventually the steps came to an end and joined onto a narrow path which wound its way down through a series of hairpin bends.  Again, I didn't dare look left or right!  However, eventually the slope became less intimidating, and in some places where the scree was finer and free of rocks, I developed an odd sort of walk/trot which helped loosen up the biting of tensed up muscles and made me feel I was at least covering the ground!  The path wound down and nearer to a raging river, before following alongside it and eventually levelling out into hill pasture, where the first sheep we had seen appeared, again wearing the requisite bells!   We took cover by a small farm building, by which time the rain was coming down properly, and paused for Anthony to change into dry socks before heading out into the rain for the final push - the thought of a warm fireplace and hot tea driving us on.

As is often the case, the final run home seems to take forever.  By now, both of us were feeling the strain, and my right knee was painful and feeling suspiciously hot.  We really needed to reach the Golderli.  The path had now turned into a gravel farm track, which relentlessly switched back on itself as it made its way down.  I was cheered by the sight of a hutte, with some unlikely looking customers by the door!  We contemplated stopping for a drink, but I was keen to push on.  I knew if I sat down now in a warm hutte you would never get me out again!

Calling in for hot chocolate?

Visibility was now awful, and I confess I was unable to muster suitable enthusiasm to fully appreciate the majestic beauty of the river, which had now swollen to a raging torrent, and was both an impressive sight and sound.  Buildings loomed out of the cloud, and I peered at each one hopefully - could this be the Golderli?  We had been checking and re-checking our notes, determined after our mistake from Wengen not to miss a vital clue, and sure enough the Golderli finally consented to come into view, its incongruous and disconsolate red and white umbrellas appearing through the rain and cloud.  The Golderli is a traditional mountain inn situated on an Alpine pass route from the Rhine to Lake Geneva and dates back to 1925.

Hot tea, a hot shower, dressed in Anthony's woolpower shirt and curled under two layers of duvet, and still I just couldn't warm up, until I literally sat on the raised hearth of the woodburner downstairs and consumed two glasses of the local tipple, "lutz", an odd but very effective mixure of extremely weak coffee and a good slug of the local liquore made from meadow herbs.  Local farmers enjoying a drink at the hutte assured us in their broken English that this is what they used to keep warm in the winter, but it was good in the summer too!  I agree wholeheartedly!  We exchanged stories with our new found Swiss hiking companions, who needless to say had arrived long before we did, over a fantastic dinner of consomme, sublime beetroot salad and parma ham, chicken stroganoff and pear tart, which I consumed with alarming ease!  The best dinner and probably the most well earned we have had in Switzerland so far. 

 

The Golderli Berhaus at Griesalp in the morning snow

After a long night's rest (we were in bed at 8.45pm!), we were keenly anticipating what were meant to be some of the most spectacular views of the entire trip as we crossed over into the Kander Valley via the Hothurli Pass at 2778 metres.  The conversation last night, as is often the case on these sort of holidays, revolved around the weather, which was steadily deteriorating.  We had a low route and high route options, and even a complete "opt out" option of public transport to get us to our next destination of Kandersteg.  Pulling back the curtains this morning, the latter looked the most inviting as the rain had now turned to snow, which would mean that higher up conditions would be dangerous, and even on the low route, visibility would be poor.  We hadn't come equipped for more than the odd shower, and our wet weather gear certainly would not have stood the test of 6 hours hiking in the rain, so we decided to opt for the bus and train option.  The Hothurli Pass with its promise of magnificent views across the summits of several famous mountains would have to wait for another day.  

This morning's view from our bedroom window

I will confess to a certain amount of relief at this decision.  It would give my knee a day off to recover, and clearly I wasn't equipped with the right clothing to deal with the sudden cold.

Kandersteg has turned out to be a real gem - a charming place surrounded by a crown of snow topped mountains, with even the sun deigning to reappear.  This is a walker's paradise, and with my knee now firmly encased in an incredibly unattractive but hugely beneficial elastic support, we took the cable car to Oeschinensee, a turquoise blue lake at the head of the valley.   We had the lake almost to ourselves, and enjoyed a delicious lunch out on the terrace overlooking the amazing scenery of waterfalls coming down from the sheer rock faces which surround it, gazing up at the mountain sides trying to ascertain the route which could have been ours if the weather had been more amenable.  

View from the cable car station at Oeschinensee

Beautiful Oeschinensee

Heading towards lunch by the lake

The walk back down to Kandersteg was a good test, and I am feeling very confident that with a gentle day today I will be back on form for our walk tomorrow.  Again, the weather will determine which option we take, but here we are definitely going to be spoilt for choice.

Blue sky again at Kandersteg

WENGEN TO MURREN - THE WRONG WAY!

We were both so tired last night we were relieved to know that we had a relatively easy day today with only a short 3 hour walk from Wengen to Murren.  We were already salivating at the thought of a long lunch somewhere, and a peaceful afternoon to re-group and prepare for the following two days, which are going to be challenging.  Previously we have been surreptitiously making our "piece" for lunch at breakfast, and it is amazing how a piece of fairly unappetising waxy Swiss cheese at breakfast time magically transforms itself into a gastronomic delight after several hours hiking!  It was all shaping up to be a walk in the park, crowned with a "proper" lunch.  However, as they say, the best laid plans.....!

The forecast for the day was showers, but we were prepared for that and thought that with a shortish hike ahead we would just press on, get the job done and then be able to make the most of our afternoon in Murren.  We set off at 8.30am, and woke up the legs with a jarring descent into the village of Lauterbrunnen which lies in the valley bottom.  We weren't able to see much of the village as low lying cloud hid her from view, but we could hear the steady chiming of church bells below summoning the good people of Lauterbrunnen to church, which was a timely reminder that today is Sunday!

From the village of Lauterbrunnen we continued straight on and began to ascend the other side of the valley. However, a momentary lapse of concentration on the note reading, and after blithely following what we thought were the correct "Wanderweg" or footpath signs, we realised we had missed a vital part of the instructions and were heading off on a tangent.  That was Mistake Number One!   Mistake Number Two was after consulting a kindly passing motorist and ascertaining where we thought we were, we opted to continue on our way, not double back to correct our error, and make our way to Murren on our existing route.  This led us on an excrutiatingly steep path through the woods, 1:3 most of the way, for the best part of an hour, ascending 700 metres straight up to the village of Grutschalp.  Having been forecast rain, I wryly thought that that only showers we were experiencing this morning was the steady torrent of drops of sweat falling off the end of my nose as we laboured our way upwards.  The irony of our situation was made even worse by the fact that our tortuous route took us directly beneath the cablecar, which would glide effortlessly overhead, making mockery of our self-inflicted torment.

Finally with our waterbottles already spent, and our energy levels flagging, we reached Grutschalp, just as the train to Murren was pulling out of the station.  In desperation Anthony waved at the train driver, who fortunately took pity of these two bedraggled and sweat soaked apparitions which stood before him and slowed down to allow us to board.  (OK, so I love Swiss cows, but now I REALLY love Swiss traindrivers!).  After a short train journey through cloud covered forests, we arrived at Murren, just in time for the rain to start falling.

So, what should have been a pretty straight forward and scenic walk to Murren became a fairly hard core climb, but as always, after a hot bath and clean clothes, and with the prospect of a good lunch and a relaxing afternoon ahead, all is well again!  However the lesson has been learnt that you disregard the notes at your peril.  We will definitely have to sharpen up our map/note reading skills for tomorrow, when, weather permitting, we are undertaking one of the hardest sections of the hike via Sefinefurke at 2,612 metres.  We stay in a mountain hut where our luggage is unable to reach us, so we must carry whatever we need.  This may be the moment I regret the purchase of my tiny 10 litre "day" rucksack!

Low level cloud and rain have not made today a photographer's paradise, but hopefully the weather may (?) clear for tomorrow, when we should have some spectacular views.  Tonight we check with our host at the hotel about the weather conditions for tomorrow.  Sadly if things don't improve we will have to look at a low level option as bad weather conditions will make it unwise to attempt the high pass.

GRINDELWALD TO WENGEN - WHAT GOES UP MUST COME DOWN!

I rose rather gingerly this morning, completing a mental check list as I put my feet to the floor - feet (fine), shins (fine), knees etc., and was relieved to find that everything was in good working order and good to go!  A niggle or a strain at this early stage would be too boring for words.  We were determined to get away punctually this morning as we had a big day ahead, with a planned itinerary of 18.5 kms or 7 hours walking. We were out of the hotel door by 8.15am and beginning what was to be a long ascent out of Grindelwald. The going underfoot was very easy in comparison to yesterday, with very straight forward paths and farm tracks to follow, but the downside was that there was no let up to the relentless climbing.  We basically were ascending for the entire 9 kms to our destination of Kleine Scheidegg, contouring around the base of the north face of the Eiger.  The views back towards Grindelwald were lovely, with sweeping views up the valley towards First, our starting point for yesterday's hike.

We made our way through small farms and again I was able to enjoy the gently soothing sounds of cow bells which accompanied our walk for much of the way, finally stopping at Alpiglen for some much needed refreshment.  It seemed ironic that yesterday we were stocking up on woolly gloves and adding extra layers into our rucksacks, and today we were absolutely sweltering.  We looked such amateurs compared to some of the Nordic walkers who glided past us, dressed in hi-tech hiking gear and making it all look so irritatingly easy! There we were, in our cotton shorts, faces pouring with sweat, and plodding painfully along.

It was that kind of morning - every way a climb.

A much needed drink and my new tipple - Mountain Twister - apfellimonade with non-alcoholic beer - delicious!

From our welcome 20 minute break at Alpiglen, we were quickly climbing once again, past delightful wooden cow barns where milk churns were lined up in neat rows.  We learnt yesterday that many of these small Swiss farmers produce their own cheese, so I suppose quite apart from the almost impossible logistics of milk transportation from these remote areas, the milk doesn't ever have to leave the farm.

We had hoped to reach Kleine Scheidegg for lunch, and were making very good time to arrive at midday.   Kleine Scheidegg is the start point for the Jungfrau Railway which began construction in 1896, finally reaching completion in 1912 at a vast cost of 16 million Swiss Francs, twice the estimated cost.  The brainchild of a Swiss industrialist who saw the benefit of making the Jungfrau accessible to all, the railway involved blasting a tunnel through the rock of the Eiger and Monch mountains to construct a cogwheel railway to the Jungfrau summit.  If today's carriages loaded with tourists (80% Japanese!) is anything to go by, his vision has been fulfilled, and after a quick assessment of the weather conditions (almost ideal), we decided to lash out on what is probably the most expensive rail ticket in the world!  A 50 minute rail journey took us to what is now a sophisticated tourist destination with viewing platforms, restaurants, "Ice Palace" and snow-sport playground, all at 3454 metres!  Having walked up from Grindelwald at 1034 metres, we had ascended 2500 metres in just over four hours.  With a further three hour walk ahead of us to Wengen, we couldn't stay at the Yungfrauyoch for long, which was probably just as well as we were soon experiencing the effects of a sudden increase in altitude.   However, we were able to stand on the viewing deck, and appreciate the majesty of summits such as the Monch and the Yungfrau at relatively close quarters.

The summit of the Yungfrau under the disdainful eye of a visitor who makes the ascent so effortlessly

Fantastic views from Yungfraujoch

 Back in Kleine Scheidegg and the place was humming as it was the finishing point for the world renowned Yungfrau Marathon.  Hundreds of flag-waving, horn-blowing enthusiasts and friends were lining the route to meet the successful finalists of this unbelievably gruelling event, which soon put out meagre efforts of plodding up from Grindelwald into perspective!   Thoughts of a reviving hot chocolate were quickly put aside in the melee of returning runners, their supporters and tourists all converging at once, and it was with relief we beat a hasty exit onto the path towards Wengen when once again the cows were our only company, but not for long!  The event attracts literally thousands of competitors and little did we know that our path to Wengen formed part of the marathon route!  What entailed was a glimpse into what must be one of the most beautiful and at the same time taxing marathon events in the world.  Horn blowers, flag wavers and enthusiastic throngs of well wishers saw home the exhausted looking "runners" - most of whom were now plodding in agonised silence the last few kilometres to the end some three hours after the first finalists. Making our way against this tide of exhausted humanity was difficult and we retreated "off piste" which made the first couple of kilometres very slow going.  However, once the last of the marathon competitors had hobbled their way past us, we were able to pick up the pace, and I was struck by how walking can make you aware of sensations in a way that other forms of travel simply don't provide.  A little over an hour before I had been squinting in the blinding snowy whiteness of a pristine mountainside, in the thin cold air of Europe's highest summit, and now I was distinctly aware of how warm the air was around my legs, humming with bumble bees and chirriping with crickets as we crossed meadowland once again.  

Don't panic - I won't bring one home with me - but I do love them!
You can just see our destination, Wengen, in the background.

Marathon running - Swiss style

Soon after this we were following a fast flowing river, with the mountains looming over us, and the spasmodic thundering of avalanches reaching us as we made our way further down into the treeline and on towards Wengen.

Fuelling up on the nectar that is mountain water straight from the stream

It has been a huge day, and to be honest I am quite exhausted!  However, we are thrilled to have managed to have been able to enjoy the Yungfrau and looking forward to a shorter day tomorrow as we make our way towards Murren.  

I'll say goodnight and leave you with the sound of Switzerland!!  

THE WARM UP - GRINDELWALD TO SCHYNIGE PLATTE

Today was our chance to put ourselves to the test and just see how we measured up against the expectations of the itinerary.  Each day our walk from Grindelwald to Gstaad is described in kilometres as well as hours of walking.  It is quite important to know that we walk at a similar pace to that expected in the itinerary otherwise we will never get to our destinations!  It is also a great opportunity to just check out our equipment and make sure we have everything we need.  Grindelwald is full of wonderful shops full of the latest high-tech walking and mountaineering gear so should our clothing fall short, we were definitely in the right place to put it right.

The day started well.  The Eiger, which had been reluctant to show her face to us yesterday afternoon, was less retiring this morning, and we were greeted with the wonderful sight of the summit drifting in and out of thin cloud and early morning sunshine from our hotel window.  The forecast was good - blue sky with some cloud, but thankfully no rain.  After breakfast we were quickly booted up and heading the short distance through the town to the gondola which would take us up the mountain to our starting point at the aptly named First.  The climb up was magical - the scenery almost painfully perfect - a complete Swiss postcard of green meadows, wooden chalets with snowy mountains behind, crowned with a near perfect blue sky.  Just when I thought it couldn't get any better, I heard the most harmonious multi-toned tinkling of bells in the distance, a beguiling sound if ever there was one, and looking down saw herds of goats and cattle grazing below us, their bells ringing out in the morning air.  A real childhood fantasy was playing out in front of my eyes.

Good morning the Eiger!

Post card perfect Switzerland from the gondola

Disembarking at First, it was time to get down to business.  I have been using a fantastic app at home called Map My Hike which gave a fascinating insight into how far and how fast one actually walks, not to mention other interesting details like calories consumed!  We decided to put it into action just to give an indication of how we were doing, so that for future days we would be armed with correct statistical information to be able to properly predict our arrival times at various points of the route (the most important of course being the final destination ie., very hot bath and G&T!).

We were broken in gently with an easy ascent on a gravelly track which would take us up to our first landmark, Bachalpsee, an ice smooth mirror of a mountain lake.  En route, we saw our first marmots, queer little rabbit/guinea pig like creatures. Sadly my limited photographic skills weren't up to capturing them. From Bachalpsee, the easy option is to descend back down to Grindelwald, and the majority of the walkers who had disembarked with us at First dwindled away as we began the long, slow climb up from Bachalpsee towards our next landmark, Faulhorn, at 2,680 metres, and home to the highest hotel in Europe.  From the outside it looked rather like Colditz and I was very pleased to be staying in cheerful Grindelwald and not in the mist-covered mountain tops!  The going was now getting a bit tougher - the nice easy gravelly paths giving way to slippery mud and even snow, which had been made quite icy in places by the tramping of previous walkers.  I was very glad of my alpine walking sticks.  Having felt like I was walking with four very uncoordinated legs when I first started using them, they are now second nature and a real asset in walking on varied terrain, as well as having the added advantage of keeping the momentum going.

Bachalpsee

Nearly there - the long pull up from Bachalpsee

We followed a nice easy ridge from Faulhorn which started to gradually descend before climbing once more through some really rocky sections which required concentration.  I had already witnessed the summer version of the "Blood Wagon", a quad bike and driver, picking up a walker from just below Faulhorn.  It wouldn't take much to badly twist an ankle on these trickier parts.

The highest hotel in Europe - Faulhorn

Descending down from Faulhorn

By now we were getting into a good rhythm, the only alarming thing being that I had seriously underestimated how cold it would be.  My hands were now seriously cold, and I was kicking myself that I hadn't thought of packing gloves.  We were also the only walkers we had seen so far wearing shorts!  Not a surprise for those of you that know Anthony well, but for me, the knee caps were definitely tingling with cold and a very alarming shade of red!  I just kept telling myself that this is what today was all about - ironing out the omissions and problems, and it did make me feel better when Anthony admitted that his hands were also freezing.

Fortunately, we were keeping very much to the timetable, and by the time we completed the knee-crunching descent to the Manndleenen Hutten it was a very welcome sight indeed.  After a half hour in the cosseting warmth of this welcome haven, scoffing bread, smoked sausage and goulash, we felt completely restored and ready to tackle the final two hours to Schynige Platte.

A very welcome sight indeed - and home of the best goulash!

Another chapter of the geology manual was opened as we headed away from the Hutten and starting descending towards our final destination.  Vast slopes of scree may have been a less majestic sight than the soaring peaks we had left behind, but it did make for easier walking, and we make up for the slow progress we had been making prior to our stop at the hut.  Before too long, the tree line made an appearance, and this day of startling contrasts was coming to a close.  The final push descended through lush meadows, where once again the sound of cow bells accompanied our last few miles towards the train station at Schynige Platte.  Rather than "it's a dog's life", in reality it's a Swiss cow's life!  Resting on a bed of lush meadow, generously sprinkled with aromatic mountain herbs, with the musical background provided by one's herd mates, what more could one ask for!  Needless to say, they regarded me with deliberate disdain as only a cow can, but I couldn't help but smile to myself as I descended through these beautiful meadows accompanied by the polite applause of cow bells.

A stunning view of Interlaken from just before Schynige Platte

 One nasty last pull, with the Eiger, Monch and Yungfrau observing us hautily from above,  finally we were at our destination where the cog railway dating back to 1892 would take us back down 7.25 kms in 52 minutes to Winderswil from where we could catch a train back to Grindelwald.  With what the guide books describe as "the" classic high Alpine tour in Switzerland under our belt, we feel well prepared and confident that we will be able to cope with what lies ahead.

The station at Schynige Platte

Just out of interest, our stats for our last "pre-holiday" training hike around the Gibbet at Coombe stood us in at 14.97 kms in 3 hrs 02 minutes, averaging 12.13 minutes per km and burning 1654 calories.  Our first hike in Switzerland was a similar distance, 14.69 kms, but we took 5 hours 17 minutes, averaging only 21.37 minutes per km, but we burnt a staggering 2,873 calories.  What a difference a mountain makes!

CHAPTER ONE OF THE FAIRY TALE

It is certainly no Narnia and there wasn't a White Rabbit anywhere to be seen as we ploughed through the prairie landscape of northern France with homogenised efficiency on the autobahns.  Six hours from Calais and eventually the much anticipated fairy tale started to unfold as we left behind the vast fields of maize and the acres of dejected looking sunflowers, until so recently the party animals of the agricultural world, tilting their optimistic faces towards the August sun, but now with the imminent prospect of inevitable harvest, standing like so many rows of condemned men awaiting sentence, their heads bowed in silence.  Finally we can exit the autobahn and slowly ascend, the crops giving way to lush green meadows dotted with cows and horses. Once we reached Pontellier, the sleeting rain of the day gave way to a secretive mist, but we could still make out charming steep-roofed farmhouses and wonderfully unspoilt wooden barns. The winding road climbed its way through forests and tiny farms, each with the prerequisite herd of picture perfect dairy cows and a couple of horses, and a froth of summer flowers at every windowcill.

After eight hours we finally decended into Neuchatel, on the north western shore of Lake Neuchatel,  to break our journey for the night.  References to Neuchatel go back as far as 993 and 1032, and apart from its beautiful lakeside setting, Neuchatel has an enchanting Medieval heart.  Our hotel was lakeside, where we both slept like babes after a long day in the car, but we were able to enjoy exploring the old town this morning before setting off for Grindelwald.

Modern and medieval - a view of the Cloisters at Neuchatel

The Banneret Fountain in Neuchatel dated 1581

A warm up for the mountains?

The Place des Halles, Neuchatel

 Rather by accident than design we reach Grindelwald by a combination of "D" roads and autobahn, the rich soil around Neuchatel full of market gardens which finally give way to the most charming farmhouses and fields dotted with dairy herds as we ascend once again.  The houses are remarkable, in that they are home, hay barn and cattle barn combined under one roof, which strikes me as a remarkably sensible arrangement.  The Swiss are obviously extremely house-proud, and even the simplest farm house is adorned with billowy windowboxes and everything is immaculate.  Not a mucky farmyard in sight!

Wooden chalets begin to take the place of farmhouses as the enticing Grindelwald grows ever closer, which is where we leave the car and begin our hike.  Grindelwald is situated at the foot of the three world famous mountains, the Eiger, Moench and Jungfrau.   These great mountains, the names of which are synonymous with acts of great courage and the scenes of astounding human triumphs as well as terrible tragedies, are finally a reality.Tomorrow we will have a "warm up" six hour hike to the Schynighe Platte, returning by train to spend one final night in Grindelvald before the hike "proper" starts on Saturday.   

Mountain country at last - Grindevald - the start of our hike