Bicycles and Flowers
Written at 4:50 PM, 9-15-06
I had an early night after writing my last blog. I checked out my new travel guide for a while, trying to figure out where to go and what to do next. I also spoke with a group of South Koreans who were staying in my room. It seems that only Americans and Asians stay in Balmer’s Hostel, with a sprinkling of Australians. Weird…all the “A” nations. Anyway, one of the guys had gone canyoning that day and was very enthusiastic. He rated it as the best thing he’d done in Europe. After talking to them, I settled in and started reading a new book I’d picked up at the last hostel—The Life of Pi—which several of my friends (you know who you are) have been insisting that I read for quite some time. Well, now I am.
When I awoke (just before breakfast ended), I quickly scooted downstairs for one of the bare-essential-breakfasts that hostels tend to offer and then promptly headed for the reception to book a canyoning trip for tomorrow. Balmer’s Hostel locks people out of their rooms between 10AM and 4PM, so I packed up everything I thought I’d need for the day and then headed to a grocery store so I didn’t have to spend outrageous amounts of money eating out. This ended up being a pretty good idea and also led to an important discovery—the Swiss Frank is worth less than the dollar. And here I was thinking it was equivalent to a euro. It’s odd that the Swiss aren’t on the euro when their currency is worth less, but I suppose maybe there’s a certain inherent pride in having your own currency when your country is known for its bankers.
I grabbed a map as well and headed down what I thought was a shortcut to the train station. (I wasn’t actually going to the train station, but instead a bridge near it.) You’ll notice I wrote “down what I thought was…” Well, guess what—I got lost again. Perhaps not lost in the most technical sense, but I definitely did not arrive where I intended. Apparently arriving at night and walking to the hostel in the dark had disoriented me slightly—such that I ended up on roughly the other side of the town. My little adventure took me through the airport and around some of the peripheries of the city, though it afforded me a nice opportunity to take pictures. Eventually (about an hour and a half later) I got back on track and headed for the bridge and the trailhead to Harder Kulm.
Harder Kulm is the closest mountain of the many mountains that overshadow Interlaken. It was also about 1300 meters up from its base. Fun fun fun. I should mention, for those who don’t know, that because I wanted to spare myself the extra weight, I only brought one pair of shoes, which were not shoes at all, but in fact sandals. These sandals have seen some love on this trip and will undoubtedly be heading into the trash can when I return. Nonetheless, for this day, they would have to make do.
I quickly discovered that the Swiss do not know how to make trails. Or rather, they have a very obvious philosophy: why make a zig-zagging trail up the mountain when you can make one straight up. I’m pretty sure that I’ve never scaled a trail (notice the word, “scale”) that was more consistently steep than this one. The estimated time up was about two and a half hours, which I managed to cut down to two hours even considering I took a break and taking plenty of pictures.
By the time I reached the top, I’d stripped down to my shorts (I was wearing zip-offs) and lost my shirt (which still ended up drenched in sweat because I hung it over my back to keep my backpack from chafing.) I didn’t pass a single person on the way up, going in either direction. There was a lift that took people to the top for 17 Franks, though I scoffed at such a notion. Where’s the adventure in that, I thought. Well, doubtlessly the people in the lift who spotted me emerging at the top of the trail were thinking to themselves, where’s the intelligence in that. It really was a pretty ridiculous climb, but I’d say the view was worth it. All throughout the way up I was stopping to take pictures as each viewpoint got better and better. Also, the strange blue haze that seemed to hang across the valley began to disappear as the day rolled into the afternoon. This made for some beautiful panoramic views (and pictures) of Interlaken city, the surrounding mountains, and the two lakes.
I indulged in some well-deserved food and drink at the top. And when I say indulged, I mean I made myself a salami and cheese sandwich combined with a few Pringles. Woohoo! I stayed up there for quite a while, dreading the trip back down. For those who are fairly familiar with me, you know I have knee problems. Well, these knee problems posed no hindrance in my ascent, but I was confident that this would not be the case in the descent. I begrudgingly headed back down the trail and braced myself for the pain to come. About halfway down, I got to the point where I preferred just to run down the trail (the ones that weren’t too steep or else rocky and rooty). This was fun, albeit a bit reckless.
I passed a few hikers on my way back down. One group was a pair of men, who merely grunted in return to my chipper “hello.” A solitary woman didn’t even give me that. And then there was a young American couple. The guy, in a beleaguered voice, asked “Is it worth it?” I said “yes,” and even if it hadn’t been, they were close enough (about 2/3 of the way) that I probably would have encouraged them forward.
By the time I reached the bottom, my knees were wobbling even when I stood still. This was a bit awkward, so I tried to keep moving around in the city on level ground until the muscles and joints had the chance to relax. Hopefully I won’t be too sore for canyoning tomorrow. I sought out the tourism office and tried to find out if there were any free wi-fi signals in town. They provided me with a map, but none were near my hostel. Internet here is quite expensive—two Franks or more for ten minutes—so I’m trying to write my blogs and take care of everything before I get on. Chances are that I won’t report again until the 17th, before I leave Interlaken, or the 18th, when I arrive in Munich.
On a side note, Interlaken really is a cool little town. When I was ambling through the town—“lost”—I came to appreciate the pervasion of biking and gardening here. Everyone has a little garden—vegetables and flowers—and many have very large gardens. Not five minutes from the city I passed a whole cornfield. Sunflowers also seem to be very popular, though I’ve never been real clear on the purpose of sunflowers. I mean, sure they produce seeds, which when salty, serve to addict certain friends of mine. And they’re a decent enough looking flower. But they always get too big and droop and instead end up looking just plain sad. Maybe I’m just a flower snob. And mentioning flowers—budlea (butterfly bush) grows everywhere here. Wild! This purple bush is quite fragrant and makes even the roadside along certain highways beautiful. I suppose I came at the right time, as everything is in bloom and many of the fruits like apples are coming on. Lots of gardens had little pear trees that slumped under the weight of dozens of pears. And then there’s the bicycles. You might say that Interlaken (or perhaps Switzerland in general) has a very liberal bicycle policy. First of all, everyone rides them. And second, no one locks their bike! I was hardpressed to find a bike that was lock. I suppose they figure that there are so many bikes here to steal, that if someone really wanted to go to the trouble of stealing them and exporting them off to Bern or Zurich, chances are good that your bike wouldn’t get stolen.
Anyway, I tell you—if it’s between Bankers and Franks, or Bicycles and Flowers—I pick the latter.
Tags: Balmer's Hostel, Europe, gardens, Hiking, Interlaken, Switzerland, Travel
gregbilsland
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