Looking for a Great Local Beer?

If you love trying locally made craft beers, then check out this review of Bier Paul on Two Fools, Brewing.

That's right, the other fool of Two Fools is blogging on Two Fools, Brewing. A home brewer with a fine palate for wine and a gift for creating unusual, savory cocktails, he'll be writing about beer and other fermented topics on Two Fools, Brewing.

In the Brewing Fool's words

...beer topics, experiences, and visits to beer destinations, along with their wine-related and spirit-related familiars. Every once in a while some idiot politician will get my blood up, and you can expect to hear occasionally about that too.  So, grab a glass, let's get the top off of that bottle and get started.  Once upon a time there was some barley, hops, water, and yeast...

False Friends and Casual Acquaintances: You Say Marmalade...

You might think that speaking English will help you learn German. Not so, at least it's not so for beginners. In fact, many words that seem to be the same actually mean quite different things. These are the infamous  false friends that tend to throw egg on beginners' faces. 

False Friends
There are just tons of these false friends. Here are just a few. Use them at your own risk!

You may think that you're asking for some nuts (Mmm, walnuts!), but you actually asked for a prostitute (die Nutte).  Awkward!

Be careful about pointing out the lovely mist in the valley because, in between bouts of howling laughter, your German-speaking friend will be looking in vain for a pile of dung (der Mist).

The sales clerk may look concerned and a little confused when you explain you're buying the perfume as a gift and wonder who you are going to use der Gift (the poison) on.

Marmalade is jam (die Marmalade) and doesn't necessarily come from Dundee; art doesn't hang on museum walls, der Kunst does; a criminal is not a detective (der Kriminale), he's a Verbrecher; your neighbor is not kurios (odd or quaint), she's neugierig (curious, nosy); your car is not fast (almost), it's schnell (fast).

All this leads to the sort of caution (Ack! There's another: die Kaution is a security deposit) that results in a 15-minute discussion in German class on what a book index is in order to elicit the German term, which turns out to be der Index.

Cognates, Calques and Casual Acquaintances
There are lots of cognates that really do mean the same thing in both languages, or very close to it (meaning is a tricky beast so you have to be careful here). Once you get the hang of the sound shifts between the two languages, it's easy to figure out lots of words. Mutter, Vater, Buch, besser, and gut are all pretty easy to understand for English speakers.

That's because English and German have a long history together, beginning with the Angle and Saxon invasions of Britain and continuing into more recent times, where the influence of English as a prestigious international lingua franca has introduced dozens of new words into German.

There are loan translations (or calques) that give us great words like Wolkenkratzer (cloudscraper), which I think is such  poetic way of describing a tall building. Then there are words that German has stubbornly made its own (rather than follow an international trend to use Latin or Greek roots), giving us pointlessly Germanic words like Fernseher ('far seeing') instead of television, televisione, televisión, or televizí, all of which use Latin and Greek roots to mean 'far seeing'.

Then there are direct borrowings from English, and here things get tricky. Sometimes a word for a new thing is borrowed and the meaning stays the same, like software and die Software. Sometimes a word means the same in German but has a more limited range of meaning (or a bigger range) or hits a different register than in English. These aren't false friends so much as casual acquaintances.

There's nothing about the word 'shop' in English to indicate luxury, but Germans use Shop to indicate a smart, expensive store that we would call a boutique. To each his own prestige language.

The word professionell in German means the same as 'professional' in English, having to do with a profession, especially sports, or indicating a skilled or workmanlike job (such as a repair).  Used as a noun, eine professionelle, it also means the same thing as in English.

But in German the word lacks the historical sense registered by profession in English, as in to profess or take religious vows, to profess or declare a faith, and as a calling or vocation. In class we discovered that in English we can easily extend this sense of profession as a calling to make a distinction between a profession or professional as (or relating to) a high status career or  profession (lawyer, doctor) and a low status job or work (sales clerk, manual labor), but we cannot use professionell to do this in German.

You Say Marmalade...
All this cross-linguistic traffic and confusion mean lots of headaches for students and much anxiety for German language purists.  But at least there are a few laughs along the way.

References
The Calque
English German Cognates
English German Consonant Sound Shifts
English Words in Swiss German
False Friends in German
Language Invasion. English words conquer German
Variation in German: A Critical Approach to German Sociolinguistics

That Awful Language

I'm just a few weeks shy of completing 25 weeks of intensive German classes. When I started out, I was told to expect it would take 40 weeks of intensive study to reach a basic level of fluency. By that I mean a basically functional adult level of fluency. Well, they weren't just whistling Dixie (which they don't do here, of course).

 

"A gifted person ought to learn English (barring spelling and pronouncing) in 30 hours, French in 30 days, and German in 30 years."  -Mark Twain (from The Awful German Language)

I can recognize maybe 5000 words and can be pretty sure what two-thirds of them mean without double-checking them in my Wörterbuch, but I can barely get three out without making a mistake. I understand everyday language (in the store, the doctor's, the Kreisburo), but then there's always that one phrase (usually in the form of question) that I just completely miss. Wie, bitte? Wie, bitte? (Oh, right. Let's speak English then, answers the receptionist. Arrgghhhh.)

All of the things I can't do are actually a good sign. And I'm exaggerating my mistakes (a little). I could only recognize about 100 words when I got here, so I have come a long way. It's just that there's a long way to go yet.

The daily class schedule is just not going to work for the next couple of months. That's a little worrisome, and I'm marshalling all my self-study aids (I've got lots of these) and my determination. I will watch an hour of German television a day and listen to the radio while I'm  in the kitchen. I will read the paper. I will review grammar. Hmmm. Maybe I'll book a few tutoring sessions, just to make sure I don't lose it all.

I want to do my 40. I'll go back for another round intensive classes after a break. It would be nice to get that Zertifikat Deutsch. Might come in handy when I look for a job.

And after that? Then I start learning the local version of Swiss German. Let's hope the rumors that it's "easier" than high German are true.

Tipping in Switzerland

You may have already heard that tipping in restaurants in Switzerland is not necessary or even—strictly speaking—allowed. The tip, or Trinkgeld, was in fact abolished 35 years ago, replaced by an all-inclusive bill that covers the tip as well as payment for food and drink.

Immediately after noting that tipping is not necessary, most people if pressed will allow that it's okay to leave something. You should round up the bill to leave a little something extra.

Okay. What does that mean? For someone from the US where tipping is the rule, it means that paying the bill in a restaurant here becomes an uncomfortable moment. How much is enough? Is too much an insult? And how do you leave the tip? On the table? Hand it to the server? There won't normally be a line for it on the credit card bill (which makes sense since a tip is theoretically not needed).

How much?
The golden rule in restaurants seems to be to round up. 20 Minuten reports that the industry group GastroSuisse recommends that guests who wish to thank the server for good service should "generously round up" the bill.

That's still pretty vague for me, so I've come up with my own strategy. For something like a coffee, I'll round up to the nearest Swiss franc. For something below 100 francs, I'll round up to the nearest 5 or 10 francs, and for something over 100 francs I start going by percent. Most of the time this is about 10–15 percent, but I'll go even higher in some cases. Truly professional service does tend to stand out around here, and I'd like to do my small part to keep it going. Except for the way I tip on bigger bills, I think this tracks to the way many people tip here.

Too much?
You can tip too much. I've done it. I used to frequent a little coffee and sandwich place, where the people behind the counter were unfailingly pleasant and efficient. I never tipped. (I was still under the influence of the it's-unnecessary-to-tip notion.) But one day, overcome with ex-waitress guilt, I told the server to keep five francs. Oh dear. That was awkward. Was I sure? Really? No, you don't need to do that. Good grief. Unless your German is up to explaining alien cultural notions, it's best not to rock the boat.

According to an interview in Beobachter, you can also make a tip awkward to accept by saying something like "I need to get rid of my [foreign] change." Tipping really is about rewarding good service. It's not expected and it's not an obligation.

I don't give a Trinkgeld
The flip side of tipping for good service, rather than for all service as in the US, is that you can feel perfectly free not to tip for bad service. I will most definitely skip the tip when service is bad in Switzerland. In the US, the service had to be so abysmal that I hoped the person would leave the business before I would consider leaving nothing. (In the US servers live entirely off of tips. You're not taking away something extra; you're taking away a paycheck when you don't tip.)

How do you. . . ?
So how do you leave a tip? The best way is to do your rounding up when the server comes to collect for the bill, telling him or her how much change you want. You'll get a nice thank you while your server counts out the change, and all will be smoothly concluded. It's also great practice with numbers for German learners.

To tip or not to tip?
According to those interviewed in a December 2009 Beobachter article, tipping is part of the relationship with a regular customer, and it says a lot about who you are. But there's no easy formula. A great regular might never tip but still have a warm relationship with their hairdresser (oh yeah, you can tip in the salon too), according to one Coiffeuse. But never tipping your bartender might send a different message, indicating that even though you're there every Friday night, you don't really like the service or the bartender.

I guess what my tipping says about me is that I'm an American. And maybe it says I've been there. Waiting tables is hard, even if you're not good at it. If you're really good at it, then you are the rare master of an unappreciated art. That's worth a few francs.

There's a Hole in My Wallet! It's the Januarloch

There's a hole in my wallet right now, and I just found out that I'm not alone. I'm experiencing the January hole or Januarloch.  All that holiday fun doesn't come cheap. Christmas trees don't grow on, well, trees. And then there are the year-end taxes and the bills for those last-minute gifts. The party is over and the money is gone. That's the Januarloch.

Not surprisingly, everyone stops shopping. That's one reason why you see prices slashed up to 70% in all of the stores during January. 

Everyone gets in on the action. 20 Minuten advises us on saving during the January hole and also reviews a new cookbook, Sparflamme, featuring recipes that can be made for under 15 CHF. My favorite response to the hole are the parties put on "against the Januarloch."  The city even put on a free pop and rock concert this month.

Feeling the squeeze after the holidays may not be unique to Switzerland, but I love that they gave it a name and throw parties to combat it.

Making Your Move Part II: Handbooks for Newcomers

I know it's completely Luddite of me, but I like books. When I want to learn about something new, I get a book. Probably lots of books.






In Making Your Move Part I, I looked at online resources for newcomers. In this part I'll be reviewing handbooks for Swiss expats. Many of the references are Zürich-centric, because that's where I live. If you have books on other Swiss regions to recommend, please let me know!


Living and Working in Switzerland
To start with the granddaddy of them all, get the latest edition of the indispensable Living and Working in Switzerland. It offers comprehensive coverage of issues that matter most to expats from residence permits to insurance to taxes. This is one you'll want to keep with you and refer to again and again.

One problem with Living and Working is that the book can't help but be too general on some points. That's because everything in Switzerland, from residence permits to recycling procedures, is determined at the cantonal or community (gemeinde) level.

Grüetzi Newcomer!
If you are moving to Zürich, or anywhere in the region along Lake Zürich, then there's a great local guide to everything from getting a pet license to finding a salon to the local cost of living: Grüetzi Newcomer! Insider's Guide Around Lake Zürich.   It offers a truly local perspective, giving not just the necessary basics but cool insider finds that might you take months to discover on your own. The title is not available (so far as I know) outside of Switzerland except by ordering directly from the publisher. The shipping costs can be a little steep, so this might be one to pick up here. The publisher's website has free sample pages for each chapter that are worth a look, especially the Arrival Checklist.

AWCZ Living in Zürich
The third must-have title in my list is the Living in Zürich Handbook from the American Women's Club in Zürich. This book grew out of their annual course for newcomers called, not surprisingly, the Living in Zürich Course. The course is given once a year in the Fall, with seminars held once a week over several weeks. If you're the type of person that likes your information lively and face-to-face, rather than curling up with a good handbook by the fire, then the AWCZ course might just be the thing for you.

In many ways the AWCZ book is even more comprehensive than Living and Working, covering everything from marriage and family law, to bill paying, to English-speaking doctors, to table-sharing customs in Swiss restaurants. Like Grüetzi Newcomer, the book is useful for anyone living in the Zürichsee region. One of my favorite sections is the food terms glossary, which I used right from the start with my butcher. I also used the recycling glossary to help me get started on this all-important householder responsibility.

You can get an idea of the book's content as well as some useful free information from excerpts posted to the AWCZ Moving to Zürich FAQ. The book can be ordered through the club online and shipped to addresses in the US and Europe.

Those are my favorites. Have you found a handbook you'd recommend?

Coming up: Books for newcomers on Swiss culture and history (Part Three of Making Your Move).

Making Your Move Part I: Internet Resources for Newcomers

You just landed your dream job in Switzerland (or your partner did). You're marrying a Swiss national and planning to stay. You took the plunge and got an au pair job in Switzerland. Now what?

First, congratulations! Second, I can't really answer the question about what comes next. At least not in a nice short Five Steps to the Perfect Swiss Life post. But I can suggest some great online resources and some excellent publications. These are the resources I wish I had found before I left home.

In this post I'll talk about online resources and in the next about some great handbooks for newcomers. In the third post I'll review (English-language) books on Swiss culture and history.

Get Ready for Your Move
One of the best all around resources is Expatica.com/ch. You'll find current information on residence and work permits, renting an apartment, health care, opening a bank account, taxes and more, as well as reader forums. Expatica's Swiss Survival Guide pulls together all of their posts on moving to Switzerland.

Glocals offers forums and a way to connect with other English-speaking expats. The forums and events postings are broken out by city/region, which is really helpful.

Some good information for newcomers is available from the American Women's Club of Zürich in their online FAQ.  The Club also offers an annual seminar on Living in Zürich every Fall and publishes the seminar handbook as well. (More on this in Part Two.)

Want to know more about Carnival or Swiss watches or William Tell? For a quick view of all things Swiss, check out Swissworld, brought to you by the Swiss Federal Department of Foreign Affairs

Check out the Bloggers
Expat bloggers are one of the best resources for newcomers, offering great insider tips as well as the voice of experience. One of the absolute best is Jessica's Swissstory, which is just loaded with great how-to articles. Check out her post Top 10 things to do before moving into your new apartment in Switzerland. This was the blog I wish I had found before I arrived! I'm sorry to say that Jessica moved on to Australia at the end of 2009 (see her new blog Aussiestory).

I am happy to say that Chantal Panozzo is still blogging from the CH, offering her irreverent take on daily life in Switzerland on One Big Yodel. Chantal is incredibly prolific and has published everywhere from National Geographic to Swiss Info and Swiss News, as well as essays in the Chicken Soup series. I love her column with Swiss News, "Expat Adventure." You find links to all of her posts and publications on her blog.

There are of course all kinds of Swiss expat blogs, from foodies like Half the Sugar Bowl and My Kugelhopf  to photographers like An Intsant in Time and Permanent Tourist to creative crafters like juanita tortilla. There are (relative) newcomers like From A to Z and (relative) old hands like Queso Suizo and Settling in with the Swiss.

And there are more. I read over 30 regularly. Check out my Blog List in the sidebar, Expats and Travelers. All of us are reporting on all that's new and amazing (or frustrating and crazy-making) about life in Switzerland. 

Living in Wired Switzerland
Switzerland is pretty wired, and this can be a big help as you get settled, especially if you don't speak the language.

As soon as you sign your lease for the your new apartment, you'll want to get started on getting an internet connection (as well as phone and cable). Swisscom has an English-language site as well as English speaking customer service on the phone. We've had good luck with Swisscom, totally unlike our very negative experience with Cablecom.

No time to shop? Migros and COOP (the two major grocery chains) both offer online shopping and delivery. Migros' site is in English.

Looking for a doctor? You can find one here. But if you need to see someone right away (that speaks English) try the Permanence walk-in clinic at the Zürich Hauptbahnhof.

Need to get somewhere? You can buy your SBB tickets online in English. You can even upload your tickets to your phone (or Handy as it's called here). I haven't actually tried the phone thing, since I'm sure that I would need to show my ticket right when my phone dies. But it's a cool concept.

I think you get the idea. If you're making your move to Switzerland, there is an online resource for almost any question. And to that I say, Hooray!




Read about handbooks for newcomers in Part II.

Story by klyon
Photo by tylon

Keeping Up With the (Swiss) News of Day

The Swiss are avid newspaper readers and there are around 73 dailies in circulation around the country. Although the number of papers has fallen in the past two decades, circulation remains high at 2.65 million.

Maybe so many Swiss read the papers because they have to vote so frequently, a concept that's still hard to grasp for someone coming from a country that is politically almost completely disengaged. Maybe it's because reading the paper is a great way to spend your train or tram commute. The fact that the Swiss average a half-hour a day reading the paper fits nicely with that idea.

In any case,  I've picked up the habit for my commute to class. Thanks to many, many weeks of intensive German classes I can now read 20 Minuten and its lurid afternoon counterpart Blick. (Sad really, how long this has taken me.) I'm not quite up to the level required for Neue Zürcher Zeitung, which seems to be a bit like reading Le Monde in French.  (Speaking of which I would sometimes go with a French paper when we first got here.)

Thankfully, you can keep up with the Swiss news of the day online in English. Swiss Info offers a daily coverage of Swiss and international events, while  World Radio Switzerland streams news and features online in English. I'm a fan of their Expat Life segment.

Swisster offers an online digest of feature stories and blog posts in English across a broad range of topics from business to science to education and more. The Living Guides are a great way to find info that will help you settle in here. Of course I go right to the Food Guide, and I also love the food blog, A Matter of Taste.

The monthly business magazine, Swiss News, has some of its content available online.  The sexier lifestyle publication, Inside Switzerland Magazine, has only limited content available online, but it's worth a look. If you're new to Switzerland, be sure to check out their list of expat organizations. To find out all that's hip and happening (in English or German), you can subscribe to Ron Orp's email.

I'll keep working towards reading NZZ, but in the meantime I'm glad we have so many sources online.

How Do You Fondue?

We decided we wanted to cook something Swiss for our houeseguest and that meant fondue. Cheese fondue of course.

Traditionally I've used the holidays as an excuse to buy cookware. 'Cause, you know,  I'll need it for entertaining.  So this was the perfect excuse to finally get a Calquelon (or fondue pot). No problem, and the helpful sales clerk made sure I had all of the parts and pieces I would need. Easy peasy.

Now for the recipe. I find there's a lot of fear-talk associated with fondue. It's very tricky to get right. Such a finicky dish. So hard to get the right cheeses. Many people advised me to pick up a pre-made fondue mix from the grocery store.

Okay full stop. Time to rant. It's just melted cheese, people. It's not that hard. And using an industrial fondue mix in Switzerland? Shame on you! (Don't get me started on ready-made rösti either.) Maybe I have an advantage, because I grew up with the Melting Pot, a fondue restaurant in the States where they make your cheese fondue table side. I'd seen it done. It's not that hard.

I made moitié-moitié (half Vacherin, half Gruyère), because I love Vacherin. Here's what I did. I got out my trusty Cooking in Switzerland cookbook and followed the recipe. Basically you get all the ingredients ready to go and you mix them in the fondue pot on the stovetop.  Once the mixture is ready (once it looks like fondue) put the pot on the table-stand over the little alchohol flame and start dunking bread cubes in it with your guests. (Be sure to offer glasses of kirsch so that people can dip the bread cubes in this before dipping them in the cheese.)

Okay. There was one tricky part. Controlling the alchohol flame so that we could get a nice fond or crust of cheese in the bottom of the pot. I love this part. Remember how the crusty edges of a toasted cheese sandwich were always the best part? Calquelon pots are basically designed to do this. I think we were a little shy about setting the flame as high as they do in restautants and didn't manage to make a good fond. But otherwise the dish was a complete success.

                                                                 
Here's the recipe I used, based on Marianne Kaltenbach's recipe.

• Cut up a loaf or two of bread into large-ish cubes. Set on the dinner table.
• Grate 300 grams of Gruyère and 300 grams of Vacherin. Grate both using the large side of a box grater. (If you don't have one of these, go and get one for goodness sake. You live in Switzerland, land of cheese dishes.) 
• Measure 3 dl of dry white wine and set aside.
  
• Dissolve 3 tablespoons of cornstarch (called Maizena here) in Kirsch and set aside.
• Have black pepper and nutmeg (fresh ground) ready to hand to add to taste.
  
• Cut garlic clove in half and rub the Calquelon (fondue pot) with the cut halves.

Add the cheese and wine to the Calquelon over medium heat on the stovetop and melt the cheese. Stir until melted. Once the cheese is melted, add the cornstarch-Kirsch mixture and continue to sitr. The cornstarch magic will occur shortly, and the mixture will come together into a smooth, cheesey sauce. Season with fresh ground pepper and nutmeg to taste. Bring to table.

Serve with cornichons and pickled onions. Fresh pineapple or tart apple slices are also good for a final course.  A cool white from the Vaud or Valais is the perfect match for the dish.

Journey South: Lugano and the Best Wine Bar in Switzerland

We took one more holiday journey. This time to Lugano. It was a bit of a throwaway choice. A last-minute, what-the-hell, let's just go idea. Because we hadn't seen it yet. So why not?

We were rewarded by yet another enchanting train ride that carried us through Central Switzerland into Ticino. At first we rode south along the Zürichsee, which is of course quite lovely. But then we passed into Central Switzerland, the Ur-Switzerland, the land of William Tell and Rütli meadow, traveling the long shores of the Zugersee and Urnersee. On the east side of the train we could see towering snowy peaks above the lake. On the west, graceful slopes rose, forest and farm with unlikely green showing in between patches of snow. Here and there we passed tidy farmhouses perched on 50º slopes, managing somehow not to slide down the hill.

Then we turned toward Gotthard and entered Ticino. The landscape shifted, gained a stark black and white quality: impossibly steep slopes, the massive peaks out of sight, bare rock faces and bared tree limbs, a tumbled, wild feel to the land. This was the Val Bedretto, which was for hundreds of years an impoverished cattle farming region and where the marks of poverty still show in the raggedy, rundown track-side bits of habitation and debris.

Early afternoon and  we arrived in Lugano, taking the funicular down from the station to the hotel, following the town's geography as it spills down the steep hillside to the lake. The steep twisted streets, the arcaded shops, the many piazze, the ocher, yellow, and pink facades, and the lakeside all made for great touristic rambles. And this is a town that seems tailor-made for the tourist, especially German-speaking Swiss vacationers who dominate the scene. This is clearly their getaway spot.

The two primary languages here are Italian and German; English comes in a distant third or maybe fourth behind French. I tried my best to use the Italian phrases I had studied on the way down, but I realized it was hopeless when the hotel desk clerk gently corrected my mangled request for the key in Italian. Ché peccato. It's a beautiful language. I want to go back just so I can say things like C'è una specialità della casa?

The language, the lakefront, the architecture. All quite charming. But it was the people who captivated.  After a fruitless search for the perfect lakeside café listed in our guidebook, we headed back up into town to the famed wine bar, Bottegone di Vino. Here was an oasis. People who love food, prepare it with care, serve it with grace. The waiters want to tell you about the wine and food. They know about it. They love it. There's no rush, even if it is the end of lunch service and getting on to 3.00 in the afternoon.

After due consideration and discussion of its merits with the waiter, we went with the 2000 Vinatierri Merlot (from Ligornetto in Ticino) as a pairing for our plate of prosciutto crudo and platter of Swiss and French cheeses.  The waiter even brought over three local honeys to try with our cheeses, including Acacia and Chestnut. Everything was just so good.

No question where we should go for dinner. The waiter got a us a late table and we returned at 9.00 for marvelous plates of miniature sausage ravioli and a bottle of the 2005 Vinatierri Merlot. Ignoring our protests, the waiter brought out bowls of clementines and mixed nuts for after. We cracked and peeled and nibbled while he brought out two barrel-aged grappas for us to try. If you're used to thinking of grappa as something that tastes like lighter fluid, think again. These could rival the best Armangnacs. The Tonys were so enthused they ordered a second round, and so of course the waiter insisted that I partake as well. Mercy.

At this point I was fair smitten with Lugano and especially Bottegone di Vino, and that's not just the grappa talking.  Real food, real wine, and people who care about it. A beautiful lakeside setting to boot. I'm already planning a week long stay somewhere here with a kitchen so that I can cook with these ingredients.


Story by Kathy
Photos by Tylon

A Meaningful Distance: Journey to 3000 Meters

This Christmas holiday we were fortunate to be visited by our oldest friend, Tony, a boon companion for all types of travel. His visit was the inspiration that got us out the door and across the country, something we might have let slide if it were just us lazy two.

Our first foray was to the Basel Christmas Market for its last day of the season, with side trip across the Rhine to Klein Basel for some Ueli beer. I was utterly charmed at the market by the vendors extolling the virtues of their products in dialect, completely impervious to the fact that I understood only one word in five. The Tonys were charmed by the Ueli brewery's beer list. Good start.

Basel was a nice little travel apero, but we wanted something more. We wanted to travel what Jonathan Raban calls a  meaningful distance. We wanted to travel close to ground and slow. We wanted to see a changing landscape, feel a different current, be somewhere else. 

I picked a classic Alpine desitnation, the little village of Mürren, perched 1650 meters above the Lauterbrunnen Valley and facing the huge peaks of the Jungfraujoch. You can't arrive by car. Only by a series of trains and a gondola. Or on foot. I suppose climbing up on foot would really qualify as traveling a meaningful distance, but we took the train.



The journey began with the familiar route to Bern; then as we continued to Interlaken we emerged next to the Thunersee, one of the two lakes that flank the tiny and rather charmless town. The lake was huge, stunning, backed by towering peaks. I wanted at that instant to be sailing on it. Oh, I see. These are the Alps.

I waited in the freezing wind for the next train at Interlaken Ost, guarding the luggage while the Tonys foraged for snacks inside the station. Turning and turning, I looked through the right angles of the wires over the station platform at the mountain peaks. Gray sky broken with blue shards.

Long before frostbite set in, the little BLM train arrived. Hustle on, find a seat, stow the luggage. We chugged through the heavily forested Lauterbrunnen Valley, calling out to each other over each frozen waterfall and other sundry bits of natural beauty.  We climbed to 800 meters, where the train stops for Lauterbrunnen Village. A momentary confusion, and then we found our way to the BLM gondola that would take us to the next stage, Grütschalp. We left our luggage with BLM to be put in the tow carriage that rides under the gondola. (That was actually the confusing part.)

Heading up along a 65º slope, the gondola was the first acrophobic test of journey and the beginning of a feeling that we were truly headed for somewhere else. Crowded with ski-holiday makers as it was, the car still dipped and swung at the junction points before it kept climbing. A little frisson of excitement for the flatlanders. It ground to a stop at Grütschalp, and we moved quickly to claim a seat on the small train that would take us on a cliff-hugging, twisting climb the rest of the way to Mürren.

Now the peaks were just above us and the mountains formed a wall across the valley. The cliff edge dropped away beneath us as we climbed up and up, but on the other side of the tracks a wanderweg wound its way alongside the train. Intrepid snowshoers and hikers trekked beside us.

And then we were in Mürren, stepping out of the train station and turning around to face the peaks:  Eiger, Mönch, Silber, Jungfrau. So close. We stop again before the hotel doors and look. We can't stop looking. Even now the sun was dropping and there was a gold shine across the face of the Jungfrau. Our rooms faced the peaks, and we couldn't help popping out to the balcony to look again and again.

A short walk through the village (there are only short walks within the village), and look up towards tomorrow's goal (the Schilthorn). The town is humming just before sunset, packed with visitors, and we watch tiny children learn to ski while old folks compete on the curling court and few mad adventurers paraglide above our heads. Everyone else is on skis or sleds.  Back to the hotel, a glass of bubbly, a curious dinner while seated next to the table of one of Sir Arnold Lunn's octogenarian descendants, and then to the balcony for a nightcap in the form of moonrise over the peaks.

Morning comes late to the village, the sun just cresting the peaks at noon. The sky cleared completely for the first time in days. And shortly after this we were off to the cable car that would carry us up the additional 1320 meters to the summit of the Schilthorn.

Looking in the direction the cable car is traveling feels like flying straight at a cliff wall. Looking to the side or backwards just feels like flying. We weren't traveling too fast, but weren't very close to the ground anymore either.  Note for those with fear of heights: do not ride against the side of the car where you can look out (and down). Stay in the crowd in the middle of the car, which is pretty easy to do in ski season.

And then we were at the top. At 2970 meters. We clamber through the maze that is the Piz Gloria Restaurant and James Bond Touristorama (no, really), looking for the way out to the terrace. Outside we are literally on top of the world. Or maybe on another planet. A really cold planet. I want to stand still and meditate on distance and geometry but it's too damn cold. I can't do it. None of us can for long.

Back inside the revolving Piz Gloria Restaurant we hum a little bit of the theme from On Her Majesty's Secret Service as we search for seats. We can't help it. Better to embrace the cheesiness. We share a table with an amiable British woman. Echoes of Sir Arnold Lunn, she is an avid and expert skier, who competes every year in the Mürren Inferno Race along with her husband. Her son just competed in his first Inferno Iron Man last year. Every August these crazed athletes combine a 3 km swim with a 96 km cycle and finish up with a 25 km mountain run. Good God. We have to go.

And we reverse the journey. Back down and then down further. We see Mürren from above, a tiny village between a cliff wall and the knife-edge of the next drop. We glide along Interlaken's lakes, wondering how we might get back here in the summer.

Then a quick stop in Bern for dinner. We arrow through the Old Town's medieval arcades, getting tantalizing glimpses of tiny cafés along the street and theaters under it along the way. Dinner at the brewery above the bear pits and back to the train.

30 hours away and back. Journey into the sublime made easy, courtesy of the Swiss. The raw visual impact was no less for all the ease and convienience. I want to go back in the summer, smell it and feel it, climb a path, sit on a 60˚ slope, eyes level with the peaks across the valley. I guess that makes me a Romantic. Or, you know, a tourist.


Story by Kathy
Photos by Tylon and Kathy

Silvester Magic

It all worked out so much better than expected. Delayed in Lugano that morning, the three of us scrambled at the Stadelhofen train station to get the makings for our New Year's Eve feast just before the last store closed. With a small sigh of regret I pushed aside thoughts of the perfectly aged entrecôte I'd seen at Globus (now closed) and zipped around COOP in search of decently festive items.

We ended up with a beef fillet, potatoes, mushrooms, and salad. Not bad at all. Tony, who had wisely made veal demi-glace before the holidays, worked his Silvester magic in the kitchen. I even  managed a decent vinaigrette for the salad this time.  We feasted merrily indeed.

Happily we had the foresight to bring in the drinks before our holiday travels. That's how we were able to try out Tony's new and not-yet-named cocktail: 24-year-old Rye, Cassis, orange juice and zest, and a little soda. Next a lovely Caymus 1997 with dinner. And then the Ruinart NV Rosé bubbles to go with the fireworks. Oh yes, we were feeling the Silvester magic.

And the fireworks over the Zürichsee. Wow. Seriously the best I've seen in years. Actually, they're usually obscured by rain in Seattle, so perhaps it's not a fair comparison.  In any case, it was splendid and stunningly, ear-breakingly loud. And there was the bonus of eager amateurs letting fly with various incendiary bits all around us before and after the official show. Way to ring it in Zürich!