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Europe, March-April 1998 Gimmewald, Switzerland Our next stop from Amsterdam was Switzerland. That sounds a bit vague, but I truly didn't know where we were going to end up. Casey had the book about where to go in Switzerland, but all I knew was that our train was going to Bern, but we weren't going to stay there. The journey was uneventful and when we woke up, we were in a totally different setting. Gone was the flat terrain and in its place was beautiful snow- capped mountains. We got off the train only to get on a bus for Interlaken, which means "between lakes." We went directly to Balmer's Youth Hostel (Casey can't remember the words in German for "youth hostel" so he calls it the Herber-Schmerber). We were fortunate to get a private room at the hostel so we took a nap and woke up in time to have dinner in the canteen (fondue... yucky... so full of kirsch) and watch part of Star Wars with 40 of our housemates. We signed up for something called canyoning in our fondue-induced alcohol haze and went to bed. The next morning, bright and early, we were driven to the outdoor center to be outfitted with wetsuits, life vests and wet socks (not to mention serious helmets and harnesses). We were trucked with 10 other adventurers to our destination... An icy cold river with lots of big rocks and steep falls. Luckily, with us were about five New Zealander guides who seemed mad, but sure of themselves. We were told in advance that they hadn't lost anyone yet... Great. So we spent the better part of the day ducking under big rocks and shooting out the other side in the icy glacial-runoff stream, rappelling down a waterfall and jumping into great pools of, you guessed it, icy glacial-runoff. It was pretty cold and the equipment smelled of mildew and fear... I nearly peed in my suit to warm up, but the thought of marinating in my own pee and the next person to wear my suit dissuaded me from going that route. The next day we decided to head up into the hills (read: the side of giant mountains surrounding a glacial valley) and took a train and then an aerial gondola to Gimmelwald. Before we left Interlaken, we stopped by one of my favorite supermarkets in the world: Migros. Large or small, all Migros are super clean, well-lit, logical, and efficient. Oh, and stock enough chocolate to kill several herds of cows. For our three night stay in Gimmelwald, we walked out of Migros with no less than a dozen chocolate bars. They came in every flavor and in very colorful packaging. We did not stick with the ever-popular Lindt, but tried many local, small brands as well. To think of it now makes me giggle quite a bit, but looking around me then, all of the grocery carts in that store had no less chocolate than we did. Besides, we were going to do quite a bit of walking and hiking and we needed the energy. Besides, Switzerland is THE LAND of CHOCOLATE! You could hardly stay in the land of Milka and not buy lots and lots of it. That's my story and I'm sticking to it! On our way to Gimmelwald, up the valley, we saw some wires stretching way up into the clouds, presumably to the top of the mountain. Halfway up the wires was suspended a gondola, exactly like the one we were about to take. This one was being used as the platform for bungee jumping. One of our friends bungee-d off the same gondola shortly after we were there. (Hannah Wood, send us the picture!) There were a couple of options for us to stay in Gimmelwald, and we opted to stay at Walter's. Mr. Walter is a my classic ideal of a Swiss gentleman. Not gentleman in the sense of nobility, but in the sense of proper manners and comportment. At Walters, we got a room with two comfortable twin beds (we pushed them together) with the fluffiest down blankets on top. We received the corner room in the back of the hotel that butted up against a steep hill. Just outside our windows was some pasture for sheep and goats and every morning we could see them not 10 yards from our window taking their breakfast. I often opened the windows and tried to call them over, but I think they were too wily for that. While in the area, Casey and I took a beautiful hike around the valley. The trails were immaculate and there were many small run-off streams crossing the path. At one point we ran into a little patch of snow and all of the sudden realized that just across the way was a glacier! Casey slogged through the snow a bit to touch it... I stayed behind, content to watch him do that and not get more snow in my shoes. Finally we reached a point where there was too much snow for us to continue and we turned back. We took an alternate trail down and ended up in the valley instead of back to our mountain perch.
All along our stay, we tried monitor the view of the Eiger, Monch, and Jungfrau from the top of our mountain, capped with the world famous Piz Gloria. Anyone who is a fan of James Bond movies knows that the Piz Gloria was featured in "In Her Majesty's Secret Service" with George Lazenby as Bond. Well, there are cameras that broadcast real-time images of the view from the top to the gondola stations below. That way, we would know if we should take the gondola to the top or not and the one time we saw clear skies up top, we went for it... Of course, it's Murphy's Law that what can go wrong, will go wrong, and as soon as we were half-way up, we saw the clouds roll in, so that once reached the top, it was pea soup. Disappointed that we were thwarted we decided to make the most of the day and stay up at the Piz Gloria for as much time as possible... watching the video about the making of "In Her Majesty's Secret Service," even constructing our very own snowman and dressing him up. A group of East Indian tourists even took a picture with him, and then, in what seems to be their very first snowball fight, one of them ripped our snowman's head off for more ammuntition. We spent the rest of the day wandering around the village between Gimmelwald and the top of the mountain and even took a walk along a trail that led to a funicular that took us near our village. A day later, we were on all the transportation that would take us back to Paris. We stayed one night in a noisy hostel and without much sleep, we were back at CDG and ready to go home. At the airport, in my hiking gear and backpack, I stepped in the First Class line to check in my luggage. A very smart-looking middle-aged woman bustled up to me and haughtily said, "Zees eez zee FIRST CLASS check-een. You 'ave to 'ave a FIRST CLASS teeket to be 'ere." So grumpy from the restless night before, I whipped out my ticket and waved it in her face with a, "You mean like THIS ONE?" (My parents had used their miles to get me a first-class ticket from SFO to CDG as a college graduation present.) She immediately changed her attitude and apologized and led me to the next available check-in. After being all checked-in but with no where to go for a couple hours, I took my guest (Casey) with me to the First Class lounge where we snacked on first a continental breakfast, and then canapés and cocktails. I took the first-class seat on the first leg of our flight from CDG to Washington DC. Then Casey took the domestic first-class seat while I took his seat back to San Francisco.
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