Mountain Hostel Paradise...

A little bit more about our Swiss adventures while we recover from too many (or not enough, depending on your perspective) pints of Guiness...

We had seen the pictures of the hostel on the website and knew it had a scenic location, but we were not prepared to get off the cable car on the edge of the cliff wall and see the sign for the hostel just 20 yards away. (Though for those keeping track of our arrival to lodging hike distances, this reduced our average nicely). I was a little concerned that the location might make it noisy or less quaint/cozy/private, but even without the power outage shutting down the cable car for two days the lift turned out to be no disruption at all.

The hostel itself was how I imagine my idealized hostel to be (with the exception of a lack of double rooms): lodge-like with wood everywhere, free pool table to socialize around, homey bar, comfy couches, great views, a free jacuzzi outside looking at the mountains, hot pressurized showers, a laundry machine, lots of porch/deck space, musical instruments to play laying around, a professional grade kitchen (with 6 huge gas burners, lots of shelf space and baskets for dry groceries, and a huge subzero refrigerator) and enough tough love discipline from Petra and peer pressure from others to keep the place organized and clean.

The sense of community was wonderful as well. This was especially true during the power outage when we were all stranded there. We played cards by candlelight, listened to music, and hung out during the day enjoying drinks and playing pool. We met and enjoyed spending time with Erin and Fiona, Scott and Melinda, and the rest of the magnificent seven (the group of us left after the exodus post-power outage): Rob and Matt (our two gourmet chefs), Richard, Kevin, and Allison. The last couple nights there the group of us worked together to create tremendous feasts from simple ingredients: goulash and shepards pie and salads and fruit salad with vanilla custard and garlic mashed potatoes and chocolate truffle fondue and many bottles of wine. It was heavenly. .

The town itself is actually a tiny village spread along a Z-shaped road up the mountain side at the edge of a cliff wall (which requires a cable car to get up) on the opposite side of a valley from the Jungfrau. There are plenty of cows, goats, chicken, sheep, and (of course) gnomes to keep you company. About 30 minutes up a steep narrow road is Murren, more touristy town with the grocery store, and lots of hotels.

The hiking nearby is phenomenal. We went out all but one of the days, when we gave ourselves permission to just veg and enjoy the views. Our first couple hikes were in the storm, so our views were somewhat limited. I wish we had taken more pictures of the rain-swollen streams and trails that had water cascading down them etc, but it was raining so hard that we were afraid to take the camera out. Still, we had some memorable moments.We hiked up a valley along a pretty river to a very nice meadow that ended in a rock face and a glacier. The Aussies with us convinced us to do some fording of the various run-off streams, hopping from rock to rock and trying not to think about how cold the water would be if we slipped. (This no longer would be possible by that night, as the water level had risen too high) Once we reached the bottom of the glacier we got to climb up a number of moraine slopes, slipping and sliding on the scree. Our reward for all this risk of ankle-wrenching was a chance to reach out and touch our first glacier of the trip. Though it in itself wasn't that remarkable, we also found a waterfall seemingly coming out of the sheer rock that was runoff from the glacier up above. The freezing spray instantly soaked our feet (so much for all of our careful rock-hopping) and created quite a swirling wind. It was pretty cool.

On a different hike we ended up in a beautiful meadow, with shepards huts and the sound of cowbells clanging. All of a sudden out of the mist we saw a steinbock ( picture from a later hike in the sunshine) walking towards us. With the mist it almost felt like a unicorn or something, and had us quite transfixed before it decided to return to its grazing elsewhere. Most of the time this hike was covered in rain and clouds (after returning later we even got a scenic overlook before and after), but when we could see the mountains, we noticed all the new waterfalls that were popping up. After realizing that the rain had turned to sleet/hail/freezing rain on Monday (the worst day), we decided to take the more direct (1 hour) way down instead of the 2.5 hour trail we had planned. We were glad that we had decided to cut things short as the trail became a lovely combination of mud and running water and we ended up sloshing the last 40 minutes with frozen feet. (And just a view of how wet we got during these first hikes: here I am after the first stage of Monday's outing)

Our favorite hike though was up to Oberhornsee Lake. This involved walking down into the river valley from Gimmelwald, then climbing almost straight up back up the (seeming) sheer cliff wall on the other side. Once up that first part, We climbed up through fields and cows the the shoulder of the peak, then around the corner into another valley. This trail around the corner, while perfectly safe, was quite a challenge for two folks with a fear of heights like ours. The narrow trail was cut into a quite steep grassy slope, and after less room than we would like the slope turned into the sheer cliff wall. It kept feeling like you were walking off into thin air. We had to do quite a bit of singing songs and concentrating on where our feet were to make it through that section. From there we descended down to the Obersteinberg Hotel, which is situated in a beautiful location with dramatic view. All supplies must be brought in by helicopter or mule and guests must hike in. I've heard the food is fantastic; it would be a wonderful retreat for anyone into hiking and mountains. We continued past for another hour or so, climbing up to another ridge through brilliant wildflowers (and bees!) and refreshing-sounding streams.

We had heard that the lake was a little more like a pond, so we were expecting it to be fairly small, which it was, but nothing prepared us for how crystal clear and peaceful it was. Most glacial run-off mountain lakes are milky, but this one somehow filtered the water from the glacier through the soil or something and then appeared to be fed by a spring. It created amazing reflections of the surrounding mountain peaks. In the fields beyond the lake Brian was able to get his daily fix of animal chasing, walking up to a herd of grazing cows, goats, and the occasional steinbock. We loved it up there, and could have spent hours sitting up there and enjoying the peace and the view. Unfortunately, we knew that we had many hours of strenuous hiking to do to get back home, and wanted to be sure and do that before dark. After a tiring walk back up and down and up and down and up back to the hostel (complete with lots of swearing from me going back down the super steep part) we were rewarded by our first hot shower in days (as the power had just come back on) and then refreshed our sore bodies and enjoyed a drink out in the hot tub. Now that, ladies and gentlemen, is the way to do the mountains....

Before we leaving the lake, however, we had had an important duty to do. We had been looking for a way to honor and observe the anniversary of my Dad's death for the past few weeks. We had hoped to find a way to do something appropriate in one of the synagogues in Prague, but the crowds (as we have already mentioned) were just horrible. Now, in a beautiful mountain locale overlooking a lake that he would have just loved, we built a little memorial to him and spent some moments saying goodbye. I think he would enjoy the view.....

From my travels with my family growing up I had always thought of Switzerland as one of my favorite places and I was thrilled to see that Brian shared the feeling. There are many more stories to be told (and many, many more pics...check them out on Flickr (tag = Gimmelwald) if you are interested) about this place and we hope to write some new ones in the near future. Like many in our 'surviving seven' group, we stayed longer than we had planned (though our couple of days was nothing compared to the extra weeks spent by Rob, Richard and Kevin) and we also hope to go back. Our current plan is to return to Gimmelwald in November after exploring some of Italy with Brian's parents. We're interested to see what the area is like in a different season and mostly just eager to go back.

Anyone care to join us?

Becca

State of Emergency

(Ed note: this entry and title were taken from our journal, written at the time of the events. Now, after a few days of being stunned and sickened and heartbroken by the images and stories coming out of New Orleans, our experiences seem trivial and it seems inappropriate to be writing about floods and disasters in such a glib way. We thought about taking this entry off, but decided that this blog is intended to be a record of our experiences during this year and Central Switzerland's floods and our being stranded by them are a definite part of that. Our hearts go out to the citizens of New Orleans and their friends and families and we just hope that the government and the country can try and make up to them in the coming months for the ways they were ignored and (in many ways) betrayed during the past few days)

When Brian and I started planning this trip, he probably mentioned to many of you that he thought to truly experience an 'around the world' trip, he was hoping to be in the middle of at least one coup d'etat or national emergency (he had visions of being air lifted off an embassy). Not surprisingly, I was somewhat less excited about the prospect, but didn't really give it high odds of occuring. And even if I had thought it likely, I would never, ever, in a million years have expected it to happen in Switzerland. I mean, this is Switzerland: land of the decimal point and the accurate watches.

But a national emergency is actually what we found ourselves in last week.

We had just finished writing a quick entry for the blog complaining about the rain and how it had kept us from enjoying the views we were hoping to see. Though we alluded to it earlier, we really had no idea of the devastation the rain was creating farther down the valley. Though it rained a lot, it didn't seem like it had rained THAT much, but it turns out that it was not only that it was both hard enough and constant enough, but also that it was warm enough that instead of landing as snow for a good portion, it rained all the way up the mountains. That meant that it all ran back down the mountains (new waterfalls were popping up everywhere on the cliff walls and little streams were flowing across roads) and into just one river (or rather two...one in each valley on either side of the Jungfrau) and both those rivers (which overflowed their banks and did damage as they made their ways down the valleys) flowed into Interlaken. 36 hours after we had gone through it, people were paddling canoes across the rails at the Interlaken Ost train station.

I'm not sure how much made CNN (probably not much), but central Switzerland sufferred terrible damage: more than $100 million swiss francs worth and many many people lost their homes (we later saw all sorts of pictures of freeways looking like lakes and buildings being swept away and people wading through waist-high water in the capital). All sorts of army reserves and national guard type folks were called out to try and help fight the water and repair the damage. And it wasn't just Switzerland. It sounded like Bulgaria and Romania actually suffered the worst damage, with Bavaria (part of Germany) and part of Austria also being hit. Major big deal.

Not long after we posted that Rain, Rain Go Away post we lost power. Petra (our kick-ass inn-keeper/bartender/den-mother) came in to tell us about what was happening and let us know that we were all struck up there in Gimmelwald indefinitely. The roads and hiking trails down off the mountain were washed out and the power outage meant that the gondola (the way most of us got up there) wasn't working. (And even if we could have gotten down to the valley, we wouldn't have been able to get anywhere). That caused some panic among some of the backpackers who had flights in the next couple of days out of Amsterdam, Paris, London, etc. and especially with one fellow who was on a leave from the air force and was worried about being declared AWOL.

The surreal part is that even though we were in some ways at the epicenter of it, or at least at the point causing a lot of the trouble, it was (almost literally) like water off a duck's back. That is, the rain came down, and it ran past us down the mountain and then it was gone. And by Monday night/Tuesday morning it wasn't even raining any more (And by Wednesday it was BEAUTIFUL!). So we felt like we should somehow be helping or doing something, but everything was fine where we were (and we couldn't get out of there)...so basically we just hiked and guiltily enjoyed our vacation.

We were even in the one place in Gimmelwald with a (professional-grade, fantastic to cook on) gas range, so we had no problems making food. In the evenings, we would sit around by candlelight, enjoying yummy communal food and listening to some of the more musically inclined and talented fellow strandees entertain us with jam sessions on the guitar, piano and bongo. We enjoyed the beer, got to know each other, and played cards by candle light. Really, if anything it enhanced the experience.

As we sit here and write this from Paris one week later, we are overwhelmed by the images from New Orleans, Biloxi and the rest of the area Katrina devastated. We once again feel grateful and fortunate to have ridden out our floods on high ground and hope that all of you back home and your friends and family are on high ground as well.

Becca

Will try and post more soon. We have more to tell about Gimmelwald, the Mountain Hostel, the magnificent seven, Chamonix and Mont Blanc, and the TGV. Leaving Paris for Cork in Ireland tomorrow. 11 days in Ireland then back to Paris and environs for a week before Mom arrives to travel with us for a while.

Rain, rain go away....

Quick update from the Swiss Alps..

 

In a karmic kick in the butt for all of our gloating about heading to this wonderful place, nature is having the last laugh.

 

It has rained steadily since we arrived with a very low cloud cover (which can get complicated when you are way up in the mountains). We have not let that deter us (being raised in oregon and all) and have hiked both days, coming back home soaking wet to the skin. While the hikes have been fun and pretty, though alpine meadows, along streams, dodging cows, etc., we usually couldn't see much further than 50 feet around us. So we are hiking completely surrounded by some of the most dramatic and beautiful mountains in the whole alps and we haven't seen a trace of them.

 

We have kept our hopes up though, especially as we already had plans to stay at least 6 nights...figuring it has got to clear and we would get a chance to do the major hikes and see the peaks.

 

Monday night update: it has rained so much over the past 3 days that the road between the cable car base (the only way to get down from here) and the town with the train station has been washed out or landslided over, the trains are not running in that town anyway, as the water is too close to the tracks, and rumor has it that Interlaken (and maybe even Luzern) are flooded in places. So everyone who has been trying to leave today is back for the night, no one is coming in, and the latest we heard is that the roads may be closed at least two days. For us it's fine...we had no plans to leave anyway, and can think of many many worse places to be stuck, but there are a lot of folks here trying to catch flights home in a few days.  News link are here and here.

 

Keep your fingers crossed for sunny skies... We are!

 

The drowned rat alpine trekkers