Berghotel Schwaegalp in Santis is a busy hotel because of the beautiful location. Santis is situated in front of a huge mountain, this is the most exiting thing, you can go to the top of this mountain by funicular. The view is so very amazing, if the sky is clear, it just takes your breath away!!! This mountain is located at the 3 canton points. They are Appenzell Innerrhoden, Appenzell Ausserrhoden and Sankt Gallen. The only reason you have to go to this hotel is for the spectaculair views. Not for the food, it is more like cafetaria food. But if that is not a problem it is very nice to spend the night here and have a nice walk.

Hmmmm....i hate winter!....y'day it was snowing, today the sun's out, tomorrow its snowing again...and its just freeezziiing cold!

I could easily spend winters in a warm country faaar away from cold switzerland!
Once again i havent got my snowboard out yet...and i'm once again not in the mood to do it for the rest of the winter! hmmm...

Have a lovely christmas everyone:)

My brother called me and said that the pata negra had arrived and was just outside Basel in one of his friends house in France just on the other side of Switzerland. My brother’s wife is Spanish and her father is in luxery food, so they had order a huge number of pata negra. It is a type of jamón, a cured ham produced only in Spain from the Black Iberian Pig, also called the cerdo negro or black pig, which is the only breed of pig that naturally seeks and eats mainly acorns.

The Black Iberian Pig lives primarily in the south and southwest parts of Spain, including the provinces of Salamanca, Ciudad Real, Cáceres, Badajoz, Seville, Córdoba and Huelva. As well as in the Southeast of Portugal (Barrancos), where it is referred to as Porco de Raca Alentejana.

Immediately after weaning the piglets are fattened on barley and maize for several weeks. The pigs are then allowed to roam in pasture and oak groves to feed naturally on grass, herbs, acorns, and roots, until the slaughtering time approaches. At that point the diet may be strictly limited to acorns for the best quality jamón ibérico.

I have always loved the Pata Negra and I know when I get it from her father it is the best that you can get. They had them stashed in France due the import regulation in Switzerland. I decided to drive down after work Friday afternoon, but I couldn’t leave before 18.00 because of some meetings. The weather was not best; it had started to snow, especially in the Ardennes which I had to pass on the way to Luxembourg and into France.

I arrived in Basel at 23.00 which actually were rather fast given the road conditions; it is a drive of 585 km but traffic was very scars.

Next morning we got up to and early start and did some shopping just outside Bern before returning to Basel where we had a good lunch at the Japanese Namamen restaurant. Given the cold we all had a wonderful and hot chicken soup.

After the shopping we went to the country side in France and picked up the Pata Negra. The snow started to get more intense here. The villages just on the French border are lovely. I have always adored the half-timbered houses and in this part of Alsace it is artwork. Many of the house ends are constructed in a way that you just have to stop up and look at them. We found the house of my brother’s friend which were a fantastic renovated farm dating back more than 120 years. We had a cup of coffee there and then I had to drive because I wanted to head back before the weather conditions would be worse. I left at 16.00 and I managed to get back with my Pata Negra in Brussels at 21.30 which I was quiet satisfied with.  

Yesterday we left Austria and headed though Liechtenstein to Lucerne, via Zurich. Train ride was really cool with heaps of mountains snow capped and lots of autumn trees. Very nice. Got into Lucerne late arvo. Fortunately our hostel was close to the old train station.

Lucerne is a very compact, small city and we have easily managed to walk around it this morning. There is an amusement fair on at the moment so part of the waterfront has been converted into a side show alley for kids and tourists to spend money while the locals watch on disdainfully.

It was very foggy this morning so the view of the lake and city wasnt all that great. We have also hit the cold weather again and some fellow backpackers at the hostel who came from London and Paris say its even colder there so be prepared for some chilly weather.

Anyway, getting back to Lucerne. We met up with Lea, a Swiss gal who was on exchange in Busso last year. Although she is 18, Lea is still at school. It is holidays at the moment so lucky for us she offered to show us around the city. Lea took us to the `Lion of Lucerne` monument and some parts of the Old Town. We checked out the Rosengart Museum which houses some works by Picasso and some Swiss artists which was pretty cool. Lea then took us to a cheap (all relative as in Switzerland, nothing is cheap) place for lunch where we sampled some Swiss cuisine and mixed with the locals.

Leas english is great, and she also speaks her native German plus French and a bit of Italian. It was nice to have a tour guide for the day.

Off to Bern tomorrow.

The sudden drop of temperature (from what I perceived looking outside from our private cabin) and the quiet but secured uphill crawling of TrenItalia in the crevasses of this mountainous landscape of the Alps - dotted with exquisite little village houses tucked-in along the footings of snow-blanketed hills and snow-capped mountains, were my indications that we were entering the lovely country of Switzerland...

After exploring several cities of Italy with a guide tour and friend, it was time to visit more cities of mainland Europe practically just by ourselves.

We enjoyed an evening of fine dinner with friends in Milan a day prior, in time for welcoming New Year. Also a couple of days earlier, we went to Milan's Centrale and attempted to reserve seats for a New Year trip going to Monaco, Barcelona, and Madrid before going up to Paris . The plan was scraped as the train operation was shut-down January first. To make it worse, January second was already fully book for these destinations, we were told. Lesson learned: no reservation too close to any day of intended trip. A contingency quickly occurred at this time and subsequently asked ourselves: "Why don't we head out to Zurich, Brussels, Luxembourg, and finally Paris?" It worked for us and fate seemed to be in agreement to the new plan as we were able to get our seat reservations from the counter that quickly.

It was early in the afternoon when we were sent off of our train from Centrale terminal by our friends. Soon, the train started on its way. The weather was nice, but noticeably a bit gloomy. Inside, and after settling to our cabin, I took a nap. It must be a short one because when I woke up, I noticed few feet away from us was a couple of Italian soldiers checking other passengers' documents. It was, of course, an indication we were still within their soil. Shortly, these two fully uniformed Italian military were in front of our seats asking for our identification documents. I showed them our passports. Amidst their commanding fatigue uniforms, those snugly-fitted brimless beret, the massive rifle slinged on their shoulders, or the seemingly visceral tapping sound of their boots, I, with honestly, was not too alarmed. They demonstrated an ideal way a military should approach any civilian: an amicable smile and a rather courteous request of whatever they wanted. This reminded me of Royal Canadian Mounted Police - they're known for their unique uniforms and approachable attitude as well (they can be tough when needed, for sure!).    

Can't say for sure, how long we were in the comfort of our seats, but after awhile, the view from outside became a bit darker. It must have been around twilight. I began to think of it as a nice prelude to peaceful landscape sightseeing which I was about to sketch in my mind. Imprinting them on my thought was the best effort I could make if I want to capture all the interesting pictures reeling - as fast as our moving train, before my eyes. The camera was a lesser help that time as the train had turned into a faster-moving metal beast chasing nothing but time in the occasional slopes and meandering terrain of the Alps.

Nevertheless, it still was a surreal experience witnessing all these new things: the smoke-spewing chimneys in those little village, the quaint little houses, the heavy fog spread across the hill, and some occasional solitary tree in their barest form as well as thick pine trees clustered together and side by side standing bravely in that lonely wintertime. TO BE CONTINUED...  

I set my alarm clock on 5:30 but woke up at 4:00. I can see the stars over Davos, the weather looks perfect. At 6:00 start with snowshoes on Albula Pass 2315m. There are more than 50cm snow on the way to Piz Blaisun 3200m.

I stayed at Grand Hotel Kempinski in the beginning of November 2008 in connection with a short business trip to Geneva. I booked the hotel in advance and paid about 2500 NOK (about 365$). I took the taxi from the airport to the hotel and that cost about 35 CHF and check in was quite fast and I got room 4460. It was easy to see that this is a pretty luxurious business hotel and the lobby area is quite vast and there were lots of shops selling good quality watches and there is even a huge cigar shop filled with Cuban cigars. When I got into my room I was happy to find quite a large room awaiting me. But it did look a bit outdated with the carpet in red, white and pinkish strips and curtain and chairs in matching colours. In the centre of the room was a HUGE bed that was pretty comfortable and there were lots of pillows…6 of them all together. Apart from that I had a flat screen TV (that I was never figured out how to get started), furniture in dark wood, a minibar with various drinks in it and a pretty good size work desk. But I don’t think internet was free and when I inserted the cable into my laptop there was no life in the cable at all. Talking about outdated…the bathroom had a typical 70’s/80’s look to it. The walls were lined with some sort of rock looking tiles and with a green sink, green bathtub, green toilet and green bide. But all in all it was not as bad as it may sound  The bathtub had a shower option with the use of a shower curtain…I always prefer to have a glass wall or something like that as I don’t like the shower curtain sticking to my back. Other things that are worth mentioning: there was a safe, robes, slippers and even some bars of Swiss chocolate on the pillows on the bed…but I have to say I prefer the Norwegian milk chocolate. The breakfast was not included in my booking but I do of course think that it should be included for 365 USD. The breakfast was about 50 CHF (about 40 USD). But the breakfast was not bad at all…first of all you sit in the restaurant that faces the harbour area with the amazing fountain called Jet d’Eau (I guess water jet ). The breakfast buffet was very nice with a waiter making omelette on demand and there was also a nice selection of bacon, sausages etc. But I think the best part was the great selection of fruit both whole and in pieces. And when I took a bit of yellow coloured juice I was very surprised to find a banana-orange juice…I have never ever had that served in a hotel. They also had several other juice mixes. And of course there was also a nice selection of pastry and even waffles that had toppings like chocolate sauce and whipped cream. The location of the hotel is very good. Located on the harbour right across from Jet d’Eau it should be a great starting point for exploring Geneva. I only had one night in town so I never got to explore the city properly. Conclusion The Grand Hotel Kempinski is undoubtedly a quality business hotel. The room was large even if it was a bit outdated in my opinion. And it was a bit strange that TV and internet line was completely dead. As always I’m annoyed that you can’t get a free internet connection when staying at a nice hotel that is obviously used for conferences. As I only stayed there one night it is hard to evaluate the service compared to the price. The bed was very comfortable so I would have loved to stay there several nights. But I’m not sure I would have been willing to pay this much if I had been to Geneva on vacation. It was a nice hotel room…but not that nice.

I couldn’t remember if I’d been to Mürren before, since all these quaint little mountain villages look alike, unless you memorize which mountain went where. Even then, except for the Matterhorn, mountains weren’t all that easy to tell apart, even the Eiger, which I knew was one of those around me. . . somewhere. I didn’t bother looking at the map right now.

Savoring the schnitzel, as well as the alliteration, for as long as I humanly could, I soon realized it was time to get going. Looking very much like a tourist, something to be glad for this once, I made my way to the cable car. I didn’t like to go on any kind of transportation after eating, considering there were times I got motion sickness out of the blue, but I figured this was a short enough ride, and really, I had no choice.

I certainly didn’t remember ever taking a bike ride around a place like this. I’d been on plenty of funiculars, but again, one looked like every other, and as for waterfalls, I was pretty sure I’d never visited an interior one, so odds were this was a new place for me, and I would treat it as such. I also knew I’d never been to that revolving restaurant that played such a big part in an old James Bond movie, but since it was bound to be tremendously overpriced because of that, I wouldn’t have gone anyway. I didn’t know if I could take photos while on the bike, even cruising downhill instead of pedaling, but I’d find out soon, even without kneepads. I just hoped I wouldn’t be going downhill when I saw a spectacular view that simply had to be photographed, and have to trudge back uphill. . .

But no use crying over milk not spilled yet, or bridges not burned. After only ten minutes I turned to see if I could spy the town down there between the hills and all the twists and turns of the road. Knowing how strict everyone was in this country, I’d made sure I had the right road by checking that the signs had little “bikes allowed here” stick-figures-poppin’-wheelies next to the street names, and now I saw one that also included a “viewpoint” sign, so I dumped the bike there and got the camera ready. Not that the town was all that great a shot, as mentioned earlier, but at least the mountains cast some interesting shadows. Which made me realize it was a pretty warm day, all things considered. Sure it was spring, but it was spring in the Swiss Alps, and all those mountains were white, and stayed that way year round. Which meant that the waterfall later on would be icy, and the temp would no doubt drop rapidly at nightfall, or even if it got cloudy. So yeah, right now I was sweating in my t-shirt, but the backpack had a sweater and heavy jacket just in case. Of course the backpack itself was helping me sweat, but that couldn’t be avoided.

After about an hour of cycling--downhill--and shooting, I finally reached my destination, Trümmelbach Falls, at the base of the Jungfrau. . . sorta. The waterfall was actually inside the mountain, and with a name that translated to “Stream that sounds like a drum,” it wasn’t hard to figure what my ears would be subjected to in the near future. Still, it was one of those things you had to check out once in your life, and it couldn’t be as loud as backstage at a Rush concert. . . right?

I left my bike in the assigned area, checked his watch one more time, and made my way to the elevator, which I personally thought shoulda been made on the outside, with glass walls, to take in the views, but that was just me. I took another glance at the clock function on my pedometer as I made my way through the caverns, saw I was right on time, and suddenly found myself outside, kinda.

Not a total outside, but rather a vertical tunnel hollowed out by millennia of water runoff, with the roof collapsed and letting in the sunshine, which was kinda weird in this setting but sure helped to make a lot of pretty rainbows in the spray. Since I was supposed to be a tourist, I took as many photos as I could, trying not to show up the others but still coming up with angles and possibilities that never came to the minds of the non-professionals in the cavern.

Protecting the camera from the spray, I leaned over to look down the twisting narrow channel, almost like a flue, but didn’t get very far before I was warned not to; not like I’d been planning to take a shower, but okay, whatever. Too bad I didn’t have a video camera, because neither words nor photos could do justice to the power and speed of the water rushing down through the mountain.

Okay, time to get to bizness. And there she was, wearing jeans and a tight t-shirt, her blonde hair gathered in back with a blue ribbon; the overall impression was one of cuteness rather than all out beauty, but I hadn’t seen her face yet, at least not beyond her photos. Not that it mattered, of course, but even less so this time, especially inside a damp thundering cavern. Still, it never hurt, in fact would probably help her cover. But more on that later. . .

At first I thought the recognition signal was silly, but the more I put my brain to it, the more I knew it would work, if everyone could keep from giggling. After all, who carried one rollerblade?

So that was her, but how to let her know I was the guy she had come to meet? I could picture tons of guys coming up to her and asking what the deal was with only one rollerblade, as an opening line. Well, in that case, don’t ask the question, assume the answer. But not something stupid, like, “Did you lose the other one?” Of course, she might reply with “No, I found this one,” but not likely. Play it safe. . .

“Let me guess,” I shouted over the roar. “You’re taking it to be repaired.”

She’d startled a little to find a guy right beside her, but she figured that was due to the roar in front of her. So she dimpled at me and told me, “You’re very smart. About the blade, and to talk to me in English.”

“You prefer German?”

“Not at all! Do I sound like I know German?”

Not knowing what that would sound like, or not sound like, and not wanting to waste my vocal chords on inconsequentials, and trying not to wonder why she spoke English so perfectly, I pointed to a certain part of the waterfall while yelling directions in her ear. When someone walked by too close, I shouted that the water falling past us was going at four thousand gallons per second. Her laugh told me she thought I’d made that up, but I’d actually read that in the brochure. Not that I wasted time assuring her of it, of course.

I could sence the adrenaline running through her like she could barely keep from screaming. . . not that anyone would hear her, or blame her for finding out if she could go louder than the water, but it still might make people look over and maybe get a good look at her meeting partner, which would be a very bad thing. . .

It was over quickly; any observer would assume I’d been coming on to her and got shot down.

Feeling satisfied with things, and hoping the storm forecast by the local weather pundits wouldn’t arrive till tomorrow, I backtracked my steps until I’d found my bike and shoved back down the road. Not long after that I found himself in the town of Lauterbrunnen--the Valley of Loud Waters. . . well, it sounds more mysterious in English. I’d read in the promotional stuff that morning that the Lauterbrunnen valley was the visual inspiration for J.R.R. Tolkien’s sketches and watercolors of Rivendell, and of the river itself, but since I’d never been able to get through that book, it didn’t mean anything to me.

Anyhoo, good enough place as any for lunch, with plenty of time to finish my ride and get to where I needed to be. Problem was, after having schnitzel for breakfast, what to do for an encore?

Well, there was always more schnitzel. . .

I sighed as I looked out at the pedestrians, mostly tourists, probably searching for a place to eat as well, but there was no easier way to spoil a meal than to think of business during it, so there. At least I didn’t have to worry about getting back uphill to Mürren, not on my own power, anyway.

About an hour later, after a rich dessert and some easy downhill pedaling, interspersed with many more photos, I made it to the particular funicular I’d need to get back, which turned out to be an ugly long gray plastic-looking box, not at all like the colorfully painted ones of countries to the east. As I paid the toll and let the guy place the bike in the back rack, I took a glance uphill and realized I’d never been on a train this steep. “Sixty-one percent incline,” the driver told me cheerily once inside. “But no accidents in over a hundred years.”

I was about to ask if that meant there’d never been an accident on the line, or if there’d been an accident over a hundred years ago, but once the jolt occurred that signified we were on our way, I decided I really didn’t want to know.

As I stomped to the rear to take some more photos, the funicular did its job quickly and safely, so I gave the driver a tip--with orders to spend it on his wife or kids--and went back to biking downhill for a while longer, realizing the day had been kinda fun and photographically worth it, and that was besides getting the mission going.

-

{This is from stuff she told me when we met again}

Of all the things she’d heard about Switzerland, the one she most wanted to see, yet least expected to, were the cows with the giant bells. And there they were, mooing and bawling but mostly just chewing the cud without moving; perhaps they were tired of hearing the bells under their snouts too.

Feeling like she’d walked halfway up the mountain by now, Nikki was relieved to reach the pond she’d been told about, where she waved back to the little kid running around with her dog. She could see what all the hilarity was about, since the geese in the pond were amusing themselves by swimming slowly so that they stayed just out of the dog’s mouth-snapping range. Even from here you could sense the dog’s frustration, which was kind of sad but still funny, especially to a kid.

Turning back to look in the direction away from the pond, she once again noticed the bell around the cow’s neck and wondered if she was pining for matching earrings.

The cow, not her.

Feeling hot and sweaty, she pondered just how cold the pond water must be. Probably glacial, though she’d managed to survive that polar-bear swim thing in the past. But no, she’d rather take a shower when she got to the place, if the place had one. Come to think of it, she had no idea what it was--a lean-to, a rustic cabin, a chalet; the guy had only told her to walk a certain path for so far. Well, he was probably looking for her out the window, and she was pretty sure she wouldn’t walk past it without seeing it. . .

For some reason the thought of becoming a mummy in one of these snowy canyons made her laugh. Then she wondered when was the last time she’d laughed back home. . .

I have travelled to Switzerland twice and I have to say that they have proper hostels. This one is one of the proper hostels of Switzerland. Is not in the old town but is near to the Train Station and the tram stop. It is between the old town and the United Nations. It was a very clean hostel, very quiet and it wasn't expensive. I you do not know any hostel in Geneva you can go to this one because it is a nice hostel.

Everyone was super friendly and laid back! The rooms are above a bar/restaurant, but it wasn't unbearable a Friday night. The woman working there was extremely knowledgeable about the city and recommended Zorbing (cartwheeling down a mountain side) to us. We were too tall to fit into it, otherwise her suggestion would have fit into our plans effortlessly! This is a beautiful city and great place to stay while visiting (if you can tolerate noise).

De vlakke camping ligt tegenover een strandbad en ligt gunstig voor een bezoek aan Luzern. Vanaf de camping loopt een drie kilometer lange boulevard naar het centrum van de stad. Het terrein beschikt over kookfaciliteiten voor tentkampeerders. Algemene campinggegevens Adres: Lido Straße 19, 6006, Luzern GPS coordinaten: 47.05018 / 8.33804 (lat./long.) Afstand vanaf Utrecht: 803 km. Telefoon: +41413702146 Fax: +41413702145 E-Mail: luzern@camping-international.ch Website: International Lido Geopend: Het gehele jaar geopend De camping ligt 2 km ten oosten van het centrum van Luzern. A 2 (Basel-Luzern) afrit Luzern-Centrum en weg 2 richting Küssnacht am Rigi volgen door het centrum. Na brug, rechts aanhouden en langs het meer rijden. Camping staat aangegeven.

Ohh dears this was a funny weekend!!! I went to the Blausee with the office for 2 days...
Blausee is a smal lake in the middle of a feorest somewhere in the Kandertal...there is a smal hotel with spa and everything and the lake is made to fish..you can go there and fish anytime, weather you have a clue of fishing or not(like me!)!
So we went there saturday afternoon and first went to the spa for a while...its made in a real swiss style like the whole hotel! very nice!
After a very lovely meal...with loads of fish;)...and enough wine we went to bed and i swear you i slept sooo deep:P
After getting up and having this wonderful breakfast...my mate and i prepared a quiz for the others and jeah was good fun..hahah:P
sooo but to come to the best part now...Seraina and her try with fishing:Phahahhahahahhhahhahahahha!!!!!!! jeah i did this for the first time in my life..like most of my workcolleges:P! but hey...seraina spent 4 fished for lunch!!! 4 out of the 6 we had in the end..thats not bad what??:P as long as i didnt had to kill them i was fine with it:P but this part was for my boss..like to cooking part..he did a great job:P!
i think i found a new hobby:P good look i live next to a huuuge lake:P!!!

“Holy shitake mushrooms!”*  The things I have seen with these eyes of mine today.

Start it easy Stevie.  An early breakfast and I shoot the breeze a bit with my Canadian pal Thomas.  Nice guy.  Has a great habit of exclaiming "O-o-oh MAN!" in a really life-affirming, infectious way before and/or after almost everything you or he say.  It's fab :)  He’s leaving for Bern in a bit.  Today I will be taking up a recommendation by a nice English couple I had a chat with at St.Moritz station yesterday morning, and that is to ascend the mountain on the Gornergratbahn for some the best possible panoramic views of this show-stopping part of the Swiss Alps… if the weather’s good for it.  They’ve been to Switzerland 43 times in 35 years (!!!), so I’m gonna take ‘em firmly at their word.

Still quite early morning and the mist and fog are hanging languidly about.  Whilst there are promising patches of blue the Matterhorn remains entirely obscured from view.  Like some showbiz prima-dona, teasing her eager audience; her fans, she remains steadfastly draped in an exquisite, impenetrable white robe of finest mountain mist and fog.  She knows how to play to the gallery.  Fear not.  Have patience people of Zermatt.  The Sunshine Kid is in town today.

The Gornergratbahn is a rack and pinion train that leaves directly opposite from Zermatt main train station and ascends via about 3-4 intermediate stop-off stations up to 3,088 metres at the Gornergrat viewing station.  To the top’ll cost ya about CHF38.00 (£19) for one way and double (no concessions) if you wanna come back down on it too.  Do NOT balk at the price my friends.  If you get a day like I did you will NOT regret a penny!  You can descend back into Zermatt from any stop off point on the way up, and likewise from the Gornergrat summit there are a myriad hiking routes safely back down the mountain into the valley within which Zermatt sits with the Matterhorn glaring imperiously down upon it.  Trust me, although I can only vouch for one of these many routes, they are safe and manageable and not scary at all.  Trust me.  I’m not great with heights and this one was very easy on the nerves about 97% of the way! 

There is snow at the top (as you’d expect) and once there at Gornergrat don’t just turn and start to rush  straight back down.  Slow down.  Take your time.  Walk up the well paved paths that lead up to a kind of retail/ restaurant viewing point building and a little beyond, behind it.  Here you juuust tip over 3,100 metres and the panoramic view is just…is juuust… sh*t! Hyperboles fail me… fails ME and all m'words?!! ...and I’ve used too much of it (hyperbole that is) in this blog already anyways… but I have never had views like this in my life! "O-o-oh MAN!" Snow-capped mountains AAAALL around, blue skies (not a cloud in sight …again!) and grounding the whole magnificent, breathtaking composition, the rock that will now hold you hypnotised for the next many hours, the Matterhorn stood proudly in the distance, her misty robes now evaporated to nothingness.  Snow slews across your field of vision in every direction.  The Klein (small) Matterhorn (3,885m) also visible, the Monte Rosa (4,681m high and so named ‘cos of the beautiful rose-red sunset cloak that sweeps across her in the evening on the right summers nights) and many other mountains of which I'll note but not pretend I knew their names at the time (Google to the rescue!:) ; Liskamm (4,527m); Castor (4,228m) ; Polux (4,092m) and Breithorn (4,164m) amongst others.  Bold black birds fly and glide all about, and you stare at the rumpled, craggy edifices of the glaciers that reside up here seemingly slumbering but slowly we know slipping through the eons.

Once I have had my fill of the views I decide to start to head down.  First I stop and have a chat with a great guy who’s sat up there with his sketch board on his knees drafting out his next watercolour masterpiece of the Alpine view.  Matthew Fletcher from East Yorkshire (aka Fletcher The Sketcher) has apparently been in and around Zermatt now for 17 years so thoroughly in love with the scenery is he.  He sits and sketches and chats happily to people with a row, an array of his limited edition watercolour prints for sale… and they ARE gooood believe me!  Not your run of the mill 'street' pseudo-artist.  A real talent!  We shoot the breeze for a bit and bemoan our mutual longing for a pint of Real Ale in Britain.  He gives me some great travel tips for the future chapters of my journey.

I start to head down now.  By the time I am back at the Youth Hostel it will have taken me 6 and a half hours(ish) to descend but in reality the walk back to Zermatt (depending on your route) can be clocked in about 4.  But on a day like today you are gonna take your time as the views do not cease to enrapture you all the way to the bottom.  Truly incredible.  As I start my descent I bump into 4 middle-age Italians who were in the same carriage as me on the Glacier Express yesterday and they teach me that the Matterhorn is called “Cervino” or some such in Italian.  Ya learn something everyday etc, etc….

If I’m gonna force one further recommendation on you, if you ever find yourself here on a similarly blue-sky afternoon, make sure you head first in the direction of the Riffelsee (Riffel Lake).  Two modestly sized little mountain lakes (water pools really) that are perfectly positioned to reflect the magnificence of the Matterhorn and craft compositions that are an Alpine photographer’s wet dream.  They form part of the mountain that I believe comprises a tiny informal nature reserve.  It’s juuuust staggeringly beautiful beyond the power of my words to express (hopefully the photos help a little?).

Moving onwards and slightly downwards, a turn in the path to a very soft, pastoral green’n’ gold sweeping grass section of the path I spy ahead a small group of people sat resting upon the shrubby slopes.  They sit and watch and down the steepish green slope, about 100 feet down or so below a man sleeps within the balmy green embrace of the grasses whilst friends sit around him watching, as if tending gently to his slumber.

The man is not asleep and unfortunately the men gathered around are not his friends.  They are mountain paramedics.  Called to the scene by the four hikers who sit now before me watching and explaining.  Somehow, not long ago, whilst strolling along this sedate, most would say calm and easy part of the walk the poor man has managed somehow to go over the edge and tumble harshly all the way down to where he now lies prone (maybe paralysed?) on his back.  The emergency med-evac helicopter stationed in Zermatt is apparently on its way already to the rescue.

Tomorrow the man will awaken in hospital (I fervently hope) and his friends - if they be here - will tell him what a lucky man he is.  This despite the fact that maybe he is paralysed or has an innumerable number of bones smashed within his frame.  And lucky he is.  I will never know, but I bet he slipped after being lured just ooone step too far by the hypnotic vision in the distance of the Matterhorn.  One step too far for that one perfect camera shot.  For I can testify that throughout the day this mountainous vision retains a siren-like hold upon the viewer's attentions, and I am convinced that this man will not have been the first that her terrifying beauty will have lured to mortal danger through distraction, even without the victim having set one foot upon her.  You cannot take your eyes off of her!  Yes, lucky he may well prove to be, because as I move hesitatingly, even more sure-footedly now away from the scene it is clear that had he done the same just 100 yards further along the path he would have had a whole lot further to roll.  To fall.  Maybe 1,500 feet or more into a rocky ravine.  The helicopter would have been entirely superfluous to requirements. 

I hope this man survives and is well by the time you read this.  But that may not be the case.  I will probably never know myself.  As I have been sat here not 10 minutes from the scene writing this now I realise a loud clatter-clatter-clatter has been growing in my ears and as I look up over the grassy mountain edge the bright red med-evac helicopter blasts up over the hill lip not more than 50 metres from where I sit the downdraft from the rotor-blades almost ripping my notebook out of my hands.  I hope their work is not in vain.  A cautionary note my friends.  The walks down from Gornergrat ARE serene and beautiful and easy even for the most amateur of walkers if you have the time, but DO take your time here and in similar such situations.  Watch those precious footsteps as well as all that is glorious that fills your longing field of vision… or your camera lens.

There are many more moments of awe and wonder on the way down.  The occasional mountain flower.  More scenic, reflective bodies of water.  An amazing moment where a small group group of Chamois (large horned mountain deer) at first only one, then three, then six, then everywhere a spread across the near mountainside are spotted sat majestically.  Some upon the mountain ridge, some descending the craggy cliffs to join their compadres who are munching the grasses before our eyes.  Ice-trapped blades of grass, mountain birds and butterflies, rustic wooden buildings perched on the hillsides amidst green swathes of grasses and waaaay down below, but slowly getting closer the huddled vision of Zermatt distracting you, but only momentarily, from the incredible alpine vistas that surround you ever step of the way.  And again the Matterhorn of course.

"O-o-oh MAN!"  What more can be said other than the things in nature I have witnessed today comprise one of the richest visual experiences of my life to date and I guess there’s not an awful lot more even for an over-enthusiastic wordsmith like myself to say after such a statement so I shall now go and peruse the 250 odd photos I shot off today… and you think I’m kiddin’?!   ... "O-o-oh MAN!"  :D lol  (<-- told you it was infectious!)

* A quotation oft uttered by the protagonist of ‘Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close’ by Jonathan Safran Foer the kid being a firm believer that whilst swearing is bad, it is necessary and the offence can be softened if you incorporate the expletive within an everyday phrase or object. E.g. SHITake mushrooms.  Whenever I see wonders (predominantly in nature) that just take my breath away it is this phrase that will involuntarily always spring forth to the edges of my lips.  An unconcious habit.  I love it.  It’s right up there with Holden Caulfield’s “horsing around” and “shooting the bull”.

Hmmmm...it needs a lot to bring me up the mountains:P but today cause it was a lovely sunny fall day i went up to the Schynige Platte with 2 friends! the view is wooonderful over my hometown and the weather was perfect!
We had a great lunch up there and tanked some sun before going back down...
jeah i cant say a lot about it cause for me those mountains are boring and i cant see then anymore but still its always nice to be up there cause its so calm and peacefull!