Rant time

Over the past few days our enjoyment of the wonderful Swiss landscape and infrastructure has been dampened by two things: uncontrolled screaming and/or grizzling sprogs, and some spectacular overpricing with no compensating excellence.

Yesterday, however, we took off at a sensible hour for Flüelen at the south end of the Urnersee, the fjord-like southernmost arm of the Vierwaldstättersee (Lake Lucerne).  This really is the cradle of Switzerland where, in 1291, representatives of what are now the founding three cantons (Uri, Schwyz and Unterwalden) swore an oath of mutual protection from the Habsburg Austrians.  Once again we sailed on a centenarian paddle steamer, and paid to use the top (first-class) deck.  The experience was wonderful: the lake boasts numerous paddle steamers, and the helmsmen blow their whistles vigorously at each other when they meet.  For a time we progressed up the lake in formation with the paddle steamer Gallia, and a tiny steam dinghy steamed between us to a real cacophany of whistles.  Soon after that one of the motor lake ships did the same trick. There's something delightfully zany about Switzerland,, for all its reserve and propriety - like the hundreds of lifesize painted plastic cows scattered round the streets of Zürich a decade or so ago. 

Dampfschiff Gallia and MV Schwyz doing their Red Arrows stuff

The fact that lunch was a rip-off of no more than average quality will sour our recollection of the experience for a while.  The price suggested something a lot more special that the humdrum gschnätzlets and not-as-good-as-packet rösti.  And the Oeil de Perdrix was no better than Camplong's best pink, which costs less than 3% as much.  Well, them's the hazards of doing tourist things without bringing our own cool box, I guess.

Vierwaldstättersee at Brunnen

The experience of the lake cruise, in all other respects, was magical, and I'd do it again, specially in less hazy weather.  We tend to build in decision points on our more ambitious itineraries (I wish I could type that word right the first time!).  One such was at Luzern, where we could either beetle back to Berne, or tarry on the Brünig line and return home from Interlaken.  We went for the latter, only to be rewarded by a couple of young and indulgent parents and their two misbehaving sprogs.  We'd had another lot on the earlier train to Zug.  I've lost count of the number of times my magisterial glare has been brought into play in recent days.  Just as well, I guess, given the effectiveness thereof.  It's all part of the plot to get us to buy a first-class ticket next time, I guess. 

We had planned to have a rest day today, but decided to trade it in for a two-day amble to Calais rather than a one-day mad dash.  Our train stopped at Brienz yesterday, and that prompted us to check whether the Brienz-Rothorn Bahn was back in action.  There was a spell when trains stopped at Planalp during works further up.  So, we were on the third train of the 10:45 set (unfortunately pushed up by a diesel - but I'd rather sit in diesel trains watching steam ditto than vice versa).  Wonderful experience.

Brienzersee from Rothorn

We came down in the cable car to Sörensberg: earlier research had offered a set of seamless connections in the best Swiss manner.  Having lingered over our high-altitude schnitzels, we missed the planned departure, so had quite a long wait for a bus.  Opportunity for a mile or so's nice downhill walk in beautiful surroundings, however.  The PostAuto ride down to Schüpfheim was fun - some quite spirited driving, and lots of use of the three-tone posthorn on the bends!  Transport count: 3 trams, 3 trains, one PostAuto, one rail replacement bus, one rack railway and a cable car.  And a very pleasant walk.

Between the Rothornbahn and Sörensberg

 On the way home, our decision point was in Berne: whether to go the the new Paul Klee centre, or leave it for another year.  We decided that, with a bit of shopping in prospect and humidity levels and temperatures climbing, we'd leave that for another visit.  With a section of the railway in the Emmental out of action, we had to wait around for the replacement bus, and the train, when it arrived at Trubschachen, was very hot, so we felt it was better to head for home and cool off.

Remains for us to sit back and take stock of the last few beautiful days, and to decide which route to take and where to spend the night.  The internet (thanks to our generous hosts!) has it uses, it must be said.