crazylemurinswitzerland

[crazylemurinswitzerland]

Day 11: Lugano and Porfezzo

Today was our last day in Lugano. Tomorrow, we head to Zurich and the day after that, I'm headed home. We bandied around the idea of driving to Lake Como, but ultimately decided that we'd seen enough lake towns and didn't really need to spend time traveling to another. Plus, the weather had taken a turn towards muggy and drizzly. We decided to stay relatively local and committed to it by returning the car. When we stopped to fill up the tank, I went in to pay--inside, in the center of the very clean gas station convenience store, hemmed in by frozen foods, was a single table. At the single table, three older men were sitting, chatting, and drinking wine. Hello, we are so not in Kansas anymore (or Exxon or Texaco for that matter).

We'd been trying all week to schedule a boat tour on Lake Lugano, so we decided that today would be the day. At least on the water, we could get something of a breeze and also see some more far-flung parts of the lake. The tour started around 3pm, so why not make the most of the last day and see some of the museums in Lugano before than! Yeah! Great idea! Let's head to the first one. Closed for renovation until October. Oh, okay. Let's head across town to the second one. Closed!

No worries, we'll stop in LAC, the Lugano Arts Center (where we had dinner the other night). Phew! There we got to see a small show of art from 1960s and 70s Turin. Plus--really enjoyable--the Swiss Press Photo 2017 exhibition, which was a spectacularly curated collection of portraits, lifestyle, news, and sports shots from the past year.

Now we can walk over to the cafe that was recommended as a must-see by a friend. Closed!

We grabbed lunch at a nearby restaurant instead and then killed another half hour wandering aimlessly until it was time for the boat trip. The boat took us along the northeastern arm of the lake and--into Italy! I hadn't realized this particular trip crossed the border until I saw the Italian flag painted on one of the docks where we stopped. Between one small town and the next, not 5 minutes away, we had switched countries. The border controls here are nonexistent--so we were able to disembark for a quick 35 minutes at the far end of the tour in the Italian town of Porlezza. We had absolutely no idea what was there and very little time so we made for the church, which turned out to be quite beautiful inside (despite the super graphic painting of a headless dude)!

Plus, there were these two awesome old Italian sisters sitting meditatively in the back with their dog. The dog seemed to be happy there, but my guess is he was more excited about the cold stone floor than about receiving any form of religious enlightenment.

As in Lugano, most of the shops were closed (Sunday), but we did find one cute little place to get some nice pasta and other goodies to take home. Not expecting to go to Italy, I actually had no euros on me! Whoops! Luckily, C had some!

It was a quiet pleasant boat ride. The weather was not great today, but it was still nice to get out on the water and to see some of the places we'd been, such as Gandria, from a new perspective.

When we got back to Lugano, we decided we would go see the cathedral, as it was only a 5 minute walk away and we'd not been yet.

Closed for renovation!

We gave up. Came back to the hotel, packed, and had a surprisingly tasty dinner at the self-service restaurant in the chain department store here, called Manor.

Few pictures today as it was kind of gloomy, but I have a few from Lavertezzo yesterday that I just went through and like.

Tomorrow, a brief--really brief--stint in Zurich and then home!

[crazylemurinswitzerland]

Day 10: Valle Verzasca

Another valley today, just as magical as yesterday's, except this one is called Valle Verzasca. Valle Verzasca is immediately east of Valle Maggia--siblings digging parallel paths into the alpine peaks. What drew us here were photos of the dazzling green-blue Verzasca River. Have you ever been to a place based on a photograph and been disappointed? It seems to be a rare thing when the actual destination is more spectacular than the tourist brochures claim it to be. But that was the case with our first stop within the valley--a town called Lavertezzo. The multiple parking areas in a town of just a bit over 1000 souls is the first sign that you have arrived at a serious Ticino weekend destination.

There was definitely no color adjustment going on in the photos we saw. The river is stunning, almost otherworldly, with smoothed rocks on either side serving as both beach and diving platform. We got lucky with parking and quickly made our way to the main bathing area. This meant first a walk across Ponte dei Salti, an old stone 18th century bridge--two gentle curves sitting high above the river.

The water in the river is cold cold cold--straight from the mountain peaks. Every entry was accompanied by an "Ack, eek, oof" along with some version of "Jesus, it's cold" in Italian, German, French, or English. Nonetheless, I went in and, frigid as it was, thoroughly enjoyed floating around in the crystal clear water. (It's green from far away and super clear close up--sort of swimming pool kind of effect). Maneuvering your way down to the river across the rocks is not the easiest thing, but it is well worth it. I figured since my heart didn't stop within the first 15 seconds or so, I would probably be fine (though there are quite a number of signs warning about the river's dangers: cold, sudden flooding, currents, etc). Honestly, you eventually get kind of numb and it is pleasant in a masochistic sort of way.

I spent an hour dipping in and out, lolling on the rocks, and watching the brave folks diving from a tall rock next to the bridge and the crazy folks diving from the bridge itself. We'll get to ludicrous jumps, but you'll have to read to the end of today's entry. (In the picture two below, you can see the diving rock and the bridge.)

After Lavertezzo, twenty minutes of driving brought us to Sonogno, the last village in the valley and a beautifully preserved little town all in gray stone. Sonogno has a small but very intriguing museum that explains the traditional lifestyle of the valley. Half of the museum is in an original home, where two families lived with ten billion children.

The town of Sognono is known in Switzerland as the setting for a classic children's book called Die Schwarzen Bruner (The Black Brothers). The story based on very real history--child chimney sweeps who were drafted from the area in the early to mid 1900s. Our very kind and knowledgeable steward at the museum explained that Ticino was traditionally a relatively poor region, where a semi-nomadic lifestyle was required due the challenging environment (little pastureland meant moving from higher to lower elevations and back as the seasons changed). In those days, chimney sweeps were necessary in order to prevent fires. Men--bosses--would travel to Ticino valleys such as Valle Verzasco and recruit young boys aged 7 to 10ish for this work. Families were often desperate and would agree to hand their small children (literally physically small) over to these bosses, with no guarantee the children would return. The bosses would gather a number of kids and take them to northern Italy to serve as seasonal chimney sweeps during the winter (when these children would otherwise have been able to attend school). It was dangerous work--the boys had to be small to fit into the narrow chimneys. They would clean and climb and clean and climb--when they reached the top, they would stick their hand out to prove they had gone the entire way. The boys received no payment for this work, were barely fed, and were frequently beaten by the bosses. According to the woman at the museum, a book was written a number of years back in which many of these boys, now old men, were interviewed about their experiences. Some were still so traumatized that they refused to--or simply could not--talk about their experiences.

We needed a palate cleanse after the museum so decided to take a short hike to a nearby waterfall. Our path took us along the river, here quite shallow and strewn with rocks across its width. We were hot and it was too enticing. We were once again glad of our bathing suits. This was not an official bathing area though there were a couple of other folks around. The water was shallow--but so cold of course that even a shallow dip was enough to cool us off. We spent about a half hour playing river goddesses and sitting in the current or on the stones watching the waterfall above.

It was late afternoon and time to head back to Lugano. A few last stops though. First, back in the village, a man was taking freshly baked bread out of a traditional oven build into the side of one of the houses. It was still hot! We bought a loaf, dotted with ash from the oven, and it fed us on the ride home--still steaming well after we'd bought it.

Oh, and we made a new friend.

Last stop. Remember how I talked about the brave and the crazy? Now let's talk about ludicrous. At the mouth of the valley, the Verzasca River feeds into Lago di Vogorno. And at the mouth of THAT, is an absolutely enormous dam. And it's a famous dam. Because it's the scene of one of the greatest movie stunts ever--the bungee jump by James Bond in the movie Goldeneye. And because humans have an irrepressible desire to do ludicrous things, you can now make the same jump off the dam. It's the tallest bungee jump in the world. We walked out to the middle of the dam and I couldn't even look over the edge in the center, it's so high and disorienting. There were no jumps happening when we were there, but you could see the starting point and it made me woozy to think about it (720 feet high over bare rock). For $255, you can stare death in the face for 7.5 seconds. You can see the small scaffold for jumping in the upper right of the picture below.

I preferred to drive back to the hotel and eat spaghetti bolognese. It was dangerous and thrilling because I drank rose instead of red.

[crazylemurinswitzerland]

Day 9: Valle Maggia

As I learned during my teenage years, having a car changes everything. The Swiss transit system is excellent and efficient, but it can't do everything. Getting to remote areas in particular, while certainly possible, can be time consuming due to limited schedules and routes. With a car, we had a magic carpet to take us wherever we wished, no matter how far off the beaten track. We managed to find an inexpensive rental car at Sixt in the neighboring town of Paradiso, just a 15 minute walk from our hotel. Reserved the cheapest automatic available and were kindly upgraded to a BMW. Good times.

We got a much earlier start today than on prior days, which, along with the wheels, opened a world of possibilities in a place called Valle Maggia--the Magic Valley. One thing I've noticed here is that a lot of the names sound stupid in English, but lovely in Italian. Valle Maggia--the Magic Valley--sounds like a place where hippies hang out and smoke dope. Paradiso--Paradise--sounds arrogant for a town name. And so on.

Valle Maggia is one of several long, fingerlike valleys located northwest of Lugano--we headed there for a day of hiking, an interesting museum, and perhaps some swimming in the river. You're probably not going to be surprised to learn that things didn't quite work out that way.

The shift in feel from the lake towns like Lugano and Locarno to the alpine valleys is dramatic. Along the lakes, you would be forgiven for thinking that you were in either Italy proper or perhaps California. The Mediterranean/Tuscan feel is overwhelming, between the low mountains, the luxurious sprays of flowers, the pastel houses, the sparkling water, and, not to be forgotten, the palm trees and high-end shopping. A two hour drive and we were back in a more Swiss-y Switzerland. Dramatically different but equally as beautiful. Twisting country roads led us between steep, towering mountain cliffs, as a crystal clear river kept pace. I wanted to stop and take pictures every 2 minutes. No matter how much I took in, I wanted more. And the valley provided. There are about 12 hamlets along the valley floor, quiet tumbles of ancient stone cottages huddled up against the walls, so organic that they looked as if they had sprouted there hundreds of years ago of their own accord.

Our first destination within the valley was Fologlio, easily identified by its enormous waterfall. A short but steep hike took us to the base of the fall, where we cooled ourselves in the spray blowing off the massive cascade.

The village itself was just one restaurant and a couple dozen small ancient homes. We had a rustic lunch in the restaurant by the river--goat cheese, salad, bread, and a local barley dish. As we ate, we read in our guidebook that if we drove another 20 minutes or so, we would hit the northern end of the valley--and would be able to take a cable car from the hamlet there, San Carlos, high up into the mountains to a region called Robiei. We couldn't resist. The museum slipped away. How could we go inside with so much of the alpine world to explore?

When we exited the cable car at 6000 feet above sea level, we heard a strange sound. It was a herd of cows!

Apparently, our lucky bovine friends get to spend the summer on the meadows there--heading to San Carlos at the mountain base come fall. Swiss cows wear huge bells, which are set tinkling by the slightest of movements. I assume this helps herders locate the cows even when they are hidden by intervening mountain peaks. The sound that these bells make when "operated" by an entire grazing herd is oddly beautiful. It's a sounds that once heard, you never forget--and it will always evoke memories of these alpine meadows filled with shy little mountain flowers (thus, the sound of the cowbell on the airport shuttle train).

Because we only had a brief time until the last cable car back and neither of us relished the idea of being left there (although there was a hotel up there!), we decided that we should do a shorter hike out to nearby Lago del Zott, another dammed mountain lake. It was a gorgeous journey--although we had to walk through the mines of Moria to get there. The lake is this bright powdery blue color and sits immediately below the Basodino glacier.

But, eventually, we had to leave and return to the land of Mediterranean flowers and heat. We drove back through Valle Maggia, still in awe of the place, perhaps even more so in the warm golden hour light. We stopped at a grotto for a drink next to a pretty stream, then headed back to the Lugano area.

Grottos are small family run restaurants. This one had a bit of a miniature golf snack bar feel but was next to a pretty stream.

We had dinner at the town of Morcote, about 15 minutes from Lugano on the lake. It was a good way to wind down the day. Morcote is on a peninsula--with one road that wraps around it at the lake. The rest of the town is only accessible by foot above on the slopes. We did a quick--very quick--reconnaissance mission up there in search of ice cream--found a chapel tucked into the hillside on the way-- and then headed back to our hotel.

Here are some Morcote shots which should show the difference from the Valle Maggia.

A wonderful day of contrasts, which I hope you can see in the photos!

[crazylemurinswitzerland]

Days 7 and 8: Locarno, Ascona, Montagnola

Apologies for the cold shoulder last night--while the writing on here is most definitely rough and hastily done, putting together an entry, including uploading the photos, takes 1 to 2 hours, and I was simply too exhausted last night to do it. Now, however, it's only 6pm and I'm refreshed from a swim in the hotel's small but much appreciated pool.

The story of yesterday and today is a tale in three risottos. The first was lunch yesterday. We had decided to take a train to Locarno, a bit northwest of Lugano, and also a lakeside town.

Should you ever need the following specific things all at once--pot-laced iced tea, extra-large condoms, a pregnancy test (should have bought those condoms) called Maybe Baby, and lighters adorned with hedgehogs--may I recommend the vending machine on the train platform in the town of Giubiasco? You can also sip a Capri-Sun as you ponder your life decisions.

However, after strolling from the train station to the main piazza, we decided that we would move on relatively quickly. Although both Lugano and Locarno are moderately commercial, the vibe of Locarno just wasn't as pleasant to me. Maybe it was the fact that we passed a Benetton, a Body Shop, and a Claire's in quick succession, which had me feeling like I was 8th grade again and had just gone to the mall to hang out and eat at the food court. I looked all over for a TCBY!

We decided the best bet would be to continue on via bus to the next town over, called Ascona, which was described in the guidebooks as well the platonic ideal of a small Ticino lakeside village. Okay, not really. It actually said it was the "most perfect lake town." Either way, we quickly stuck ourselves on the bus there. And it was very lovely, with a long arc of pastel-colored cafes and hotels strung out along the pedestrianized lakeside, full of people laughing, drinking, and eating. We picked a restaurant at random and sat down to lunch. This would be risotto number one. It was tasty.

We perhaps hadn't planned the day out super well. I think we thought that Locarno itself would be more enticing and take more time so when we found ourselves in Ascona pretty early, we had to figure out how to entertain ourselves. Carbs only go so far. We decided that we'd spend the afternoon wandering the narrow stone streets of Ascona and taking in a few small local museums. Only, you know, there's that whole European thing where stuff is only open at very random times...

The first museum we chose was called the Museo Epper and it was focused on two local sibling artists. I would love to tell you their stuff was spectacular, but the museum was shuttered for installation of an exhibit. No matter, there was the Museo Communale d'Arte Moderna at the other side of the (admittedly small) town. We headed there. According to the guidebook, it would be open at 3pm, right around our planned arrival time. We arrived to find it closed and locked--apparently, its afternoon hours in July started at 4. *sigh* Exactly one purchased dress (I know!) and one brief examination of the local church later, we again found ourselves at the museum, which was, thankfully, now open. It was small and mostly focused on modern works from the 60s and 70s, which, honestly, isn't usually my thing--but it was still nice to see. I was more than pleasantly surprised by the very last exhibit, the wonderfully evocative and moving work of a female expressionist painter named Marianne von Werefkin, who spent much of her life in Ascona.

We finished our time in Ascona with a lakeside gelato, then headed back to Lugano.

Although it had been a relatively undemanding day, it was quite brutally hot, so we were both exhausted. It took great effort to push on to get some dinner.

The hotel we are staying at is a few minutes walk from the heart of the town, and even that seemed too far for dinner last night. Fortunately, just on the other side of the church with the amazing frescoes is LAC, the Lugano Arts Center, a modern facility with art exhibitions, performances, and more. And it has a restaurant. Perfect.

Only our quick, bing-bang-boom meal turned into a long drawn-out dining experience thanks to two things. A waiter who loves NYC. And a restaurant that was otherwise completely empty. First, a special olive oil from the town where his mother lives. Then, complimentary appetizers of thin slices of veal. Finally, cold glasses of limoncello on the house. And, thus, no blog entry last night. Oh! And, of course, I had risotto the second. Yes, I ate risotto twice in one day.

Today, after discussion of multiple options, we decided to stick nearby and explore the Hermann Hesse Museum, which is located in Montagnaro, a few miles west of Lugano. Hermann Hesse lived there for most of his adult life, and the whole area was, for him, a muse--the quiet woods, the layered mountains, the clear lake. The museum proper was located in his home of 30 years and had some small but interesting exhibits of photographs, letters, manuscripts, and his artwork. Also, his typewriter, watercolor set, straw hat, and a jacket worn to India. However, the entire town seems devoted to him, and a trail leads from his home to his grave and to many of the local places from which he drew inspiration.

While attempting to find Hesse's grave, we made a friend--a French student who was following the same path as us. We ended up walking along with him for the rest of the afternoon, practicing our French and allowing him to do the same with his English. Our plan was to stop for lunch at a grotto, a traditional Ticino-style restaurant named after the traditional storage areas use to keep food cool and preserved. However, of course, the grotto located along the Hesse trail was closed. Our companion spoke with a guy who was doing some work on a roof nearby (I know), who led us back to a restaurant adjacent to the grotto and convinced them to serve us--all the while speaking in French about his father, who worked for the world bank in Tunisia, which was somehow a response to my telling him we were from NY. Didn't quite see the connection but it gave me a chance to practice French comprehension skills. There, under the shade of the trees, I had risotto number three. We had a nice meal with our student friend, who apparently is majoring in Nordic languages and culture. A true intellectual, I think. He informed us that while traveling, he doesn't like to "do a lot of stuff" and is perfectly happy "reading in his hotel room." It was kind of funny. Honestly, I think he was simply trying to say that he doesn't pack his days full of tons of touristy activities, which I can appreciate. Then again, he also didn't seem extremely keen on going to Norway/Sweden/etc. He loves cultures, he said, but for him, it's more about studying them than experiencing them up close. This boy lives a very theoretical life.

Before we moved on, our roofer friend returned to tell us how he once spied on George Clooney in Lake Como from the top of a tree he was trimming next door. I think.

Thanks to the vagaries of the transit system here, we determined it would be just as fast to walk back to Lugano as to take the bus, so we ended up on an hour walk through the heat and the suburbs back. Nothing like walking the silver curve of a highway as the lake glistens below and the trucks whiz past your shoulder...

At dinner tonight, we made another friend. He's the head of marketing for the town of Bergen, Norway--and he regaled us with much discussion of Bergen's amazing gingerbread city, constructed every Christmas for the past 25 years. You think I'm being facetious--but no, it was actually very cool! He had pictures and everything!

This evening, we made an executive decision. Several of the places we want to go over the next couple of days would take forever to get to by public transit. Hello, car rental!

[crazylemurinswitzerland]

Day 6: Lugano and Gandria

Today was brimming with unexpected and delightful surprises. We had actually anticipated a mellow day, but as often seems to happen on vacations, the day had other ideas. Our plan was to dedicate our Swiss Fourth of July to relaxation, just as we would have at home--hang out at the public lido (beach) and do some swimming, then take a scenic boat tour of the lake.

Before heading over to the lido, we decided we should stop into the church that is literally next door to our hotel, as we'd been told that there are some wonderful frescoes there. In a pattern that remained true for the rest of the day, it exceeded expectations. The church, Santa Maria degli Angioli, dates to 1490 and is filled with absolutely stunning fresco-work. The main piece, which depicts the Passion of the Christ, is enormous and covers the entire wall the separates the front of the church from the back. Detailed, colorful, and mesmerizing. It was lovely to sit and gaze on it for a few quiet minutes. In one corner, a woman on a scaffold was actually doing some restoration work on it--it's good to know it's being cared for.

When we'd finished worshipping the art, we decided it was time to worship the sun. We headed over to the Lido de Lugano via the city park. For about 11 bucks, you get access to an enormous complex with an Olympic size pool, a diving well with platforms and boards, a childrens' pool, a sandy beach on the lake with umbrellas and chairs for rent, spotless locker rooms, a bar, a restaurant, and changing rooms. Plus a number of large, beautifully manicured grassy areas for plopping down on. We spent a few hours on the beach, reading and swimming. The lake was nice, if not quite a spotlessly clean or clear as I'd hoped.

We relaxed perhaps a bit too much, because by the time we motivated to figure out a boat tour (around 3:30), we'd missed the vast majority of them. This ended up to being wonderful thing. We decided that we would walk along the lake to a teeny town (now part of Lugano) called Gandria--a little speck of a village that was supposed to be quite quaint and had been recommended to us by several people. At first, the walk seemed a bit bland--the views over the lake were nice, but the road we were on was pretty busy and decidedly unscenic. Soon, however, we veered off and found ourselves on smaller and smaller roads, twisting along the lake's edge and, eventually, we discovered the Sentier des Oliviers, which is a walking trail that leads into Gandria. The road ended in a small parking lot and the trail proper began. Several wagons marked the entrance--very Fire Island--presumably for those folks who live along the trail to transport groceries and the like. Every turn led to a view that was more and more stunning, a slope upwards on our left to secluded homes pressing against beautiful old stone walls. At one point, we discovered a "park" entrance on the left. I could have spent all day there. Worn steps led up in several switchbacks into a steep meadow overgrown with tall willowy grasses and tiny wildflowers, and interspersed with silvery-leaved olive trees.

We finally pulled ourselves away from the wild little park and continued on the path to Gandria. Our goal was to have perhaps a glass of wine in Gandria, then grab the 6:35 boat back to Lugano--this was the last boat of the day. However, as we made our way onwards, we noticed a secret little lido below us to the right. Not a sandy beach, but a small grassy area with direct access to the lake. It would make it difficult to make the boat, but we simply couldn't resist. We were hot and tired--we had swimsuits--and the lake looked irresistibly cool and inviting. We walked down and discovered that this was also a public lido--4 francs to enter. It was almost indescribably amazing. The first thing I did was throw down my yellow beach towel that I purloined from the hotel, and head towards the steps to the lake. No beach here. Just a direct jump or climb down a ladder into the most refreshing water ever--deep and cool and clean. Green low mountains all around. A small floating dock for sunning and diving. I already want to go back.

The only thing that gives me slight pause is the large snake I saw slipping into the water from the long wooden entry area, raising his head from the water like a little reptilian periscope. I went over to the lifeguard (yes, there was one!) and asked him if he often saw snakes. He did not speak much English but he seemed to understand what I was telling him (snake--serpent--water--big!). He said it was not common and spent some time kind of looking around at the water, but our friend was gone.

Also, just a note, if you ever find yourself at this lido with a canine friend, follow local customs. It's perfectly fine for him to have a gin and tonic, but be sure he does not swim.

Reluctant to leave but definitely reinvigorated, we continued on our way to Gandria, having now decided that the best option was to grab dinner there then find a bus. Except the buses to Gandria also stopped running at 6:35. So we would have to walk 3/4 of a mile back after dinner to get a bus. Seemed like a fair exchange given the beauty of the scenery. Gandria did not disappoint. No real streets per se. Just narrow steps up and down the hillside weaving between old stone houses, with glimpses of the lake below.

The first restaurant we found was closed, and there are only a few in the village, so we ducked into the next one we saw. What a great find! At first, we were the only people in there. Our friendly waiter led us through a bright little restaurant out to the verandah, where there were about five tables overlooking the lake. It was perfect. The sun set slowly, as it does here, and we had a wonderful meal as we watched a mother duck and her wayward ducklings below on the water. I actually think the lasagna I had ranks among the best ever--though of course the surroundings may have much to do with that perception.

View from dinner below.

Eventually, the day had to end. It was spectacular. Full of surprises. We thought it would be a quiet day at the Lugano beach, but no! So much more.

Oh yeah, and we had to trudge the 3/4 mile back to the bus stop after climbing ten thousand stairs to get up to the main road. And we walked through three tunnels with cars whizzing by. And it was hard to find the bus stop. And the bus didn't stop until we yelled at it. And then the driver decided he wasn't going all the way to Lugano--even though according to my bus schedule, he was supposed to. But hey, man, I had a good day and you can't break my zen state. Because even though we had to walk another 20 minutes back to the hotel from the bus, the reflections of the night-bright town on the lake were amazing...

[crazylemurinswitzerland]

Day 5: Lugano, San Salavtore

Note: Sorry for the kind of fuzzy pics. Sharp on my end but Tumblr automatically downrezzes them. :(

Feeling much more lively today even though the sun is setting on another very active day. However, before I get to that...I feel like I shorted you guys a little bit yesterday, so just a couple interesting tidbits first.

As I intimated, the trip from Lucerne to Lugano took place via the Gotthard Panorama Railway. This is a bit of a misnomer, as the first part of the trip is accomplished on a boat--a paddle steamer to be exact. Late yesterday morning, I boarded the biggest and oldest boat in the Lake Lucerne fleet. Her name is Stadt Lucern and she is a paddle steamer from 1928. She has hosted innumerable important personages (aside from me), including Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip.

From the lower deck, you can actually watch (through a clear window) the giant pistons working away to turn the paddle wheels on either side. Windows on the left and right (sorry, port and starboard) overlook the paddles, which toss up a constant wash of lake water. It's kind of like watching a washing machine or a car wash. Much of the interior of the boat is given over to dining tables, however, so I I didn't have to spend the entire trip looking at boat innards. I also got to have a nice cappuccino. The weather was steel skies and drizzle, but I still spent a fair amount of time wandering around the outer edge of boat and snapping pictures of gray on gray on gray. And no matter how misty it got, there was that amazing teal water.

Immediately prior to boarding, I befriended a gentleman from Washington DC who is part of a railway enthusiasts group who meets once a year. There were dozens of folks there from England, the US, South Africa, and more. All railroad evangelists. And when I say evangelists, I mean it, because they were apparently all also ministers! Who knew that a specific group existed for men and women who love both railroads AND god? I joke, but I actually had a quite nice time chatting with him on and off throughout the trip. I have promised to send along any decent pictures I get--and to stay in touch. And no, we did not talk about religion at all. Simply about the joy of traveling and the beauty of Switzerland. Meeting so many varied people really is one of the true pleasures of traveling, even if you only spent a few minutes talking.

Eventually, I said farewell to my new friend, as it was time to move on to the next portion of the journey--a railway trip over the mountains and into the southern section of Switzerland. (Ironically, my railroad-loving-acquaintance was not taking that portion of the trip, but instead returning to Lucerne.)

A panoramic journey, of course, occurs on a panoramic train--one of those with extra large windows for sticking your nose against. The nice Dutch lady below was too polite for nose-pressing.

In order to cross into Ticino, the southern and Italian-speaking portion of Switzerland, you must traverse the Alps via the Gotthard tunnel, which, at a hair over 9 miles, was the longest tunnel in the world when completed in 1882. That's cool and all--but as you probably know, tunnels are, well, kind of dark and featureless. Fortunately, there was more than enough to see on either side. Traveling through Switzerland makes you feel sometimes as if you are looking at a perfect little model--wooded slopes with train tracks and roads popping in and out of mountainside tunnels, little cars, little trucks, little busses, and little bikes. It's like the beginning of Mr. Roger's Neighborhood.

Once we were through into Ticino, the weather changed almost instantly. Sunny blue skies, even palm trees along the lakes. Warm and balmy. And, of course, all the signs switch from German to Italian and the restaurants switch from focusing on alpine cuisine to pizza and pasta. The border is just a few miles away and Milan only 30 minutes by train.

In Lugano, C and I met up and we'll continue travels together for the next week.

Today was extremely strenuous. The town of Lugano sits on the lakeshore in between two low mountains--San Salvatore and Mt. Bre. We decided that today would be a good day to take the funicular up to San Salvatore, as it would provide great views of the surrounding area and literally give us a good "lay of the land." 

At the top, the panorama is indeed quite breathtaking. There was also a cool little exhibit on the use of the edelweiss in classic Swiss advertising. There is a small church, which you can climb up to the top of to enhance the view further. The church itself is not particularly interesting. What is interesting is its owner--the Archfraternity of Good Death and Prayer. That is so the name of my new group of superheroes. The AGDP used to accompany condemned prisoners on their way to execution. Wikipedia (yes, it works in Switzerland) tells me that this is a particular type of Roman Catholic group called a purgatorial society, which tries to help souls in purgatory reach heaven. Umm, cool.

After taking in the vista, we decided to take the shortest hike we saw signposted, which led to a small village partway down the mountain called Carona. It was not an easy descent--rocky and steep in parts, but it was enjoyable. At one point, the trail divided and there was a small sign on the left fork. It looked like this:

We went right.

Carona was a beautiful little town clinging to the side of the slope. On our way in, we noticed the many of the houses had their own private elevators/mini-funiculars, which would bring the owners from their driveway higher up on the slope to the house entrance below. Awesome!

Carona itself had several lovely looking restaurants. All of which were closed on Mondays. An hour and a half hike... Onto the bus and back into Lugano then. We grabbed a quick lunch then decided that paddle-boating on the lake would be a well-spent late afternoon.

The thing about paddle-boats is...you always go out just a little too far. So you are in a panic to get back to return the thing on time--but the pedals, they do nothing! I don't believe anyone in the history of paddle-boating has ever returned one on time. We were only two minutes late, so I think that's pretty good.

See you tomorrow!

[crazylemurinswitzerland]

Day 4: Lucerne to Lugano

Guten morgen to buonosera! Today was all about contrast. I opened my eyes in Lucerne and am about to close them in Lugano--hopefully soon, as I am exhausted. So this will be a short post.

Oh, first things first though. I tried the "vitamin juice" this morning and the results were...inconclusive. All I can say is that it tasted faintly of carrot. Other than that, it remains a mystery. Certainly wasn't bad, though I wouldn't go out of my way to have it again.

Beautiful Lucerne sits almost in the middle of Switzerland. It is German-speaking and feels classically Swiss. However, a journey via the Gotthard Panorama Express took me across Lake Lucerne by paddle steamer then over the mountains and into the Italian-speaking region called Ticino by train. Even though they are both Swiss, these two regions couldn't be more different--in language, of course, but also in weather and culture. If I dropped you into Lugano without warning and asked you where in the world you were, you would almost certainly say Italy. More on the history later, but for now, suffice it to say that it feels quite different from Lucerne.

Some pictures for now. The rainy gray day ones are from Lake Lucerne and the sunny ones are from the trip south and Lugano.

More tomorrow. Just too tired this evening.

See you soon!

[crazylemurinswitzerland]

Day 3: Lucerne to Mt. Pilatus

I definitely broke a personal record today with regard to modes of personal transport--more types in a single day than ever before. Over the course of the day, I travelled by: steamship, cogwheel train, cable car, toboggan, bus, and, of course, my own two feet.

Good thing I pampered myself by sleeping in this morning--even sacrificed my breakfast to do it. (Sorry, I know you were all super-excited to hear my discoveries regarding the "vitamin juice," but it will have to wait until tomorrow.)

Today's destination was Mount Pilatus, which is a large mountain that overshadows Lucerne. Its name has several possible origins, the most interesting being that the body of Pontius Pilate was thrown in a lake there (as all prior attempts to deal with it had failed due to storms that would whip up until the corpse had been retrieved). I had been told by several people not to miss the trip to the top, and I'm glad I didn't. There are many ways to the peak, but I chose the most popular route--called the Golden Round Trip and completely included in my handy little Swiss Travel Pass. The first portion of the journey was by steamship from Lucerne to a town called Alpnachstad located at the tip of the southern arm of Lake Lucerne. The lake was beautiful as ever though I took few pictures because I was stuffing my face with a macaroni and cheese dish from the restaurant. Yes. The boat had a very good restaurant. So, having skipped breakfast, I inhaled a bunch of calories as the scenery passed by. Eye movements burn calories, right?

At Alpnachstad, things started to get exciting. It was time transfer to the world's steepest cog railway, which would ascend to about 7000 feet in 30 minutes at an incline as high as 48%. Entrance to the railway was, as most things here, extremely organized. 

The turnstiles automatically kept track of the number of tickets inserted and stopped operating at 40 people, which is presumably the maximum per train. Unfortunately, the family behind me discovered, after three of them had entered, that their father was number 41. He refused to ask to be allowed in and his daughters kept saying they would all wait for the next train. Which, obviously, would overload the train with 43 people instead of 40. It's not that hard to understand. Sigh. They would just have to accept that they would be separated--never ever to see each other again. *grin*

The little train chugged its way up--okay, not really, because it was like most trains in this country, electric. Anyway...it chugged its way up with great poetic license, passing meadows of tiny colorful flowers, dense stands of evergreens, cows and goats outfitted with oversized bells, and, eventually, scree-filled slopes. All the while, Lake Lucerne diminshed below.

I was seated next to two American sisters and their mother. One of the sisters had been studying abroad and the other two had arrived that morning and jet lag was taking hold. This resulted in the one sister working to keep the other one awake as if she’d sustained a serious head injury--”Don’t close your eyes! Stay awake! Stay with me!”

At the top of the mountain was a large viewing area, two hotels, and lots of hiking trails. It was chilly up there, but the views were fabulous.

As I wandered around, snapping pictures and taking in the view, I noticed they were playing some type of traditional Swiss music over loudspeakers. Only then I walked down a set of steps and realized the music was live. Three men and a woman in traditional dress were playing alphorns. Now, I didn’t know what an alphorn was. I just looked it up now. But it was kind of wonderful listening to them on the peak of Mt. Pilatus.

Eventually, my fingers were numb so I grabbed a hot chocolate in the restaurant. Also this doughnut--purely because I couldn’t resist it. It looked so perfect! And, surprise, it was cream-filled. A filled ring-shaped doughnut. These Swiss can do anything.

The ride down occurred in two parts--first, a quick trip in a large cable car down to Frakmuntegg. From there, a longer gondola journey (small cars, each holding up to maybe 6 people) down to a town called Kriens. As my cable car swung towards Frakmuntegg, though, I was intrigued to see people on little bobsled-like things racing down a hillside. When I exited, I saw that this was Frakigaudi--Switzerland’s Longest Summer Toboggan Run! Only a 5-minute walk and 8 francs. I was in! And it was a LOT of fun. They put you on this little plastic sled that sits curved metal track. A single lever brakes and accelerates. You get going really quite fast and bank pretty steeply around the edges. Once you reach the bottom (sooner than you wish), they attache the sled to a tether that pulls you backwards up the slope, again, between wildflowers and cows.

Having conquered the summer toboggan, I got on the gondola and rode down to Kriens, which is a 15-minute bus ride from the center of Lucerne. On the way, I got some good recommendations for things to do from the Swiss gentleman who shared my gondola and had just finished a hike from Kreins to Frakmuntegg.

Here you can see the final gondola ride.

Here's a map of the complete trip.

Dinner tonight was in a tasty little burger place near the apartment, where I discovered something called Pompita--”a vibrant mix of rose wine, watermelon, and citrus with a spritz.” Sangria in a bottle! 

And, I discovered something else. My burger had arrived and I was two bites in when I noticed that everyone at the table across from me was eating their burgers with a knife and fork. Odd. It’s probably just them, I thought. They’re kind of “older.” Then I looked to my right and noticed a pair of younger dudes doing the same. I lowered my burger. As you can tell from my earlier concerns about the family split at the turnstile, I am, to my great chagrin, a rule-follower. I wish it weren’t so, but it is. So, of course, I picked up my knife and fork and followed suit. A couple sat down next to me. Their burgers arrived. The girl picked up her utensils. Her boyfriend looked, well, kind of a like a total bro. Surely he would grab the thing with his hands and tear into it. Surely. Redeem me, frat guy! But no. Utensils for him as well.

The Swiss eat their burgers with silverware.

Eating this way was not easy for me. I sliced and hacked and eventually my poor burger was in complete disarray. After several minutes of scientific observation, I discovered that my problems were geometric. All of the locals were cutting in pie slice shapes, which resulted in extremely neat consumption regardless of topping burden. Anything other approach makes you look like a animal. Or an American.

Sent from my iPhone

[crazylemurinswitzerland]

Day 2: Lucerne

Not really my intention, but today ended up chock full of museums. The hotel had free breakfast and it was surprisingly good with a great range of options. Though these included a weird orange liquid that was just labeled "vitamin juice" tucked sedately in between the carafes of orange and cranberry. Maybe I will try it tomorrow but today I kind of feared it. It sounds like something a cartoon character or a small child would drink.

When I travel, I really love to know the history of a place. So I planned my first stop to be the Historisches Museum, the History Museum. However, on the way there I decided to pop into one more church, the Jesuitenkirche, Jesuit Church. This one was bright and ornate and kind of looked more like a palace--a palace for god, I guess. It also had these unidentifiable and slightly suspicious objects in a frame on the wall--small silver eyes, hearts, and legs.

I did a quick spin through then pushed on to the museum.

I thought I would get a nice organized history of the city of Lucerne and perhaps a bit of Switzerland, too. That was not to be the case. If Lucerne was a building and had an attic of "stuff"--this would be that attic. It felt a bit like a tall, square warehouse packed floor to ceiling with random things. I'm pretty sure the Ark of the Covenant is hidden in there somewhere. There is no signage. Instead, every item has a barcode and you are equipped with a scanner that displays information on a little screen. So you walk through, pointing your scanner at whatever takes your fancy like a greedy bride-to-be. And in this place, that could be anything. Old swords, fire-fighting equipment, ice skates, women's underwear, creepy carnivale puppets, dental equipment, altar cloths, old ration stamps, maps. I found one book called "Medicine for the Housewife".

Also, my scanner gave me this really disturbing description of an old birthing chair.

My god, why does the chair need so many openings?!! If I were giving birth, I have to say I'd be WAY more concerned about my own openings.

Anyway, it was actually quite fun "rummaging" around--though I spent quite a bit of time dodging a school group of children who were entirely more interested in the technology of the scanners than the "artifacts".

After the museum, over the river again. This time via another old wooden bridge that tells a story. Unlike the Kapellbrucke, the Spreuerbrucke is entirely original. Rather than relating the history of the city, the painted panels in this bridge display the “Dance of Death”--showing Death in the guise of a skeleton taking away all types of people.

I'm a sucker for wandering around old city walls--I guess because these don't really exist much in the US. Some of the Lucerne ramparts still exist and they made for a nice wander from the western edge of the Old Town back towards the east--and provided some nice views over the city as well as of a little neighboring urban farm. Cows, llamas, and chickens.

I was headed to see a lion, though. My destination was the Lowendenkmal, the Lion Monument. This was spectacular. In the late 1700s, Louis XVI, nice guy that he was, told the Swiss palace guards to lay down arms in the face of mobs of French revolutionaries. They were rewarded with complete slaughter. So much for neutrality. The Lion Monument was sculpted out of a cliff face in 1821 in remembrance of these 700 Swiss souls. The sculpture sits at the far side of a calm green pool and depicts an enourmous lion in the last moments of life, a spear jutting from his side. The expression on the big cat’s face is so sad--it’s quite moving--even with the dozens of tourists thronging around.

Next to the monument, is the Gletschergarten (the Glacier Garden), which actually was a bit of a disappointment, but it was free with the Swiss Travel Pass so not a big deal. The garden centers on a series of glacial formations that were discovered in Lucerne in the 1800s and also contains a museum dedicated to glaciers. It was kind of bland and left me a bit cold. Ha ha. See what I did there?

I had a bite to eat and discovered at about 2pm that I just wasn’t certain what to do next. Until then, I had stuck to the areas around the Reuss River, but, of course, I hadn’t yet really walked along the lake. With nothing else in mind, I decided to wander along the northern edge--gardens, a casino, and old stately hotels on the left, and bright blue water, boats and happy swans on the right. 

Eventually, I left most of the tourists behind. I decided I would walk to the next “boat stop” and take the boat back into the center of Lucerne. I walked quickly because I had 15 minutes to make the boat. But as I did so, I realized I was going to pass right by the Verkehrshaus--the Transport Museum. Though I’d read great things about it, I hadn’t planned on going. But...I was right there.

I’m glad I did! It is an enormous space, broken up into four main--huge--areas. One dedicated to train travel, one to road travel, one to sea travel, and one to air travel. Each area has dozens of full-size examples, modern and historical. One enormous wall was full of cars from all time  They looked like matchbox cars stored by a giant’s child.

There was also a quite good mirror maze that was somehow supposed to teach me about road safety, a very large and amazing snow plow train, an artistically displayed arrangement of road signs, and tons more.

Oh, also, they had these sample mannequin flight attendants. Complete with name tags. I'd like to introduce you to Barbara Zobrist. As a Swiss Air flight attendant, she is “well-versed in psychology, sales, enology, nursing, midwifery, childcare and care for the elderly, crisis management, personal protection, and much more.” She's like a doctor-ninja-barista of the sky.

By the time I left, it had started to thunderstorm. I quite enjoyed waiting by the dock for my boat back to Lucerne, with clouds tumbling over Mt. Pilatus in the distance and big drops of rain spattering the lake. But the time my boat docked next to the train station in Lucerne (sadly, only a 12 minute ride), the rain had stopped. It seemed like a nice time for a drink, so I spent about a half hour sipping an aperol spritz in Luz Seebistro, a cute little restaurant and bar in an old boathouse on the lake.

And that was the day. I made it back to my hotel just as the skies were opening up again, had a short nap, then grabbed dinner at a nearby bar.

[crazylemurinswitzerland]

Day 1: NYC to Zurich to Lucerne

I've arrived safe and sound in Switzerland. The flight was uneventful except for a slight delay, during which I felt absolutely no guilt at all for ordering french fries and white wine from the bar adjacent to the gate. Why wait obsessively in the United Group 2 line when I could be scarfing down alcohol and starch? I drowsed my way through most of the flight, occasionally listening to Stephen Fry read Sherlock Holmes (60 hours of audiobook for 1 credit on Audible--hooray!). I love Stephen Fry, but listening to him read the role of Lucy (in A Study in Scarlet), a young girl from the American west in the 1800s, is fairly hilarious.

Here in Switzerland, the train says...moo! The shuttle between terminals in the Zurich airport regales its weary passengers with pastoral background sounds as it whisks them along--chirping birds, the gentle clanging of cowbells, and yes, upon arrival at the baggage claim, a proudly mooing bovine.

After passing through immigration, my first destination was the train station, which is conveniently located under the airport. There, I purchased the Swiss Travel Pass. The Swiss Travel Pass is a magical document that gives you access to pretty much every form of transportation available in this country--trains, buses, trams, boats, gondolas, and who knows what else (yaks? magic carpets?). I had a half hour to kill before my train to Lucerne so I went to the most comforting place an American can find in a foreign locale--Starbucks. There, I discovered what people mean when they say Switzerland is expensive. When I told folks I was going to Switzerland, if I didn’t get a puzzled look, then I usually got one of three replies: “oh, it’s really beautiful there, “oh, it’s really clean there,” or “oh, its really expensive there.” And yes, I knew that things might be pricier, but the idea seemed sort of theoretical until I had to pony up $7.60 for a tall iced tea. A tall!! Iced tea! As in, water, ice (which, as we all know, is just more water), and tea leaves mixed together.

As expected, the train trip was efficient and pleasant and I arrived in Lucerne around noon, then made my way to my hotel. I’m staying in the Cascada Hotel in a single room. Single rooms--which have just a twin bed--don’t seem to exist in the US. In Europe, they are common. And perfect for solo travel. My bed is tucked under an angled ceiling, which looks adorable and cozy although it may ultimately result in a minor concussion.

Here is the view from the room. No waterfalls but it's pretty in its way. And there are some mountains.

Each room here is named after a different waterfall, displays a giant backlit photo of said waterfall, and has a QR code that can be used to gather more information. I’m in the Saarfall room. Unfortunately, the bed in my Saarfall room looked so inviting that I broke all rules for fighting jet lag and took a nap. Until 5. However, that gave me enough energy to head out for some small explorations.

The Reuss River, which flows swiftly out of the northwestern tip of Lake Lucerne, divides the city rather neatly into north and south. My hotel is on the south side, which is a bit less touristy and more business-y. Still very beautiful, with leafy streets and gorgeous old buildings. I made my way north towards the river, spending a few quiet minutes in the Franziskanerkirche, the Franciscan Church, which dates to 1270 and is the oldest building in Lucerne.

There, I was thrilled to discover an ornately decorated skeleton tucked into a glass case--but alas, I could find no information about it. I don’t even know if it’s real. It was labeled, as far as I could tell, as the body of St. Celestine, a martyr. Will continue to Google search to see what I can find out.

A few more blocks north and I found myself on the southern edge of the Reuss, which flows merrily along under several pedestrian bridges that connect to the Old Town on the northern bank.

The wooden Kapellbrucke is the most famous of these--and with good reason. Sprays of flowers decorate the outside, while on the inside, every 15 feet or so, is an ornate triangular painting tucked into the angled ceiling. Each painting depicts a famous moment in Lucerne’s history.

Sadly, a massive fire in 1993 destroyed much of the original bridge, sparing only the edges. Of the 111 original paintings in the bridge at that time, 81 were burned. Fortunately, in the 1800s, a number of paintings depicting St. Mauritius had been removed when the bridge was shortened. These were used to replaced some of those that had been lost, although some blanks have been left as a remembrance of the fire.

I wandered a bit through the Old Town then crossed back to the southern bank and picked a random restaurant for dinner--Opus. I ordered and consumed the biggest chicken pot pie in the history of chicken pot pies. When I left, I discovered that it had rained while I was eating, and the city’d been rewarded with an enormous rainbow arching above the Kapellbrucke. If you’ve followed along on my older blogs, you’ll know that one of the last times I saw a rainbow was about 30 seconds before my infamous Icelandic car accident. Fortunately, this time, no car. So I was able to observe without fear.

I also stumbled on a cool little outdoor show--some sort of vaudeville-style thing that combined comedy, singing, and magic. Can’t tell you much of the storyline as it was in German, but I did enjoy watching for a few minutes, before deciding that that was enough for the first day.

See you tomorrow for more Lucerne.