Switzerland, June 2018: Random Photographs

Chap on stilts, Chur

Rhäzüns from Feldis cable car

Jetty at Locarno

View from Alp Grüm

Martyn and Geoff at Tirano

Geoff, Pam, Martyn and Yr Obed Servt, on the last leg back into Chur

Urnersee from lake boat

Arosa from Weisshorn

Chur (if you look carefully) from Weisshorn

Nave. Abbey church St Gallen

Arosa-Weisshorn cable car

Organ case, St Gallen

Approaching  Andermatt

Great trip, dreadful top and tail

The first day of our trip started badly and ended well.  The last day started just fine, continued well with an interesting (free) visit to the Landesmuseum, better still with a reunion lunch with my dear old friend Thierry, and continued pleasantly with a short wait in the open air terrace at Zurich airport.  The flight left on time, but I soon started to feel rather breathless (this after congratulating myself on Sunday for feeling no ill effects at 2500+ metres).  Yep, the plane had failed to pressurise, so we were soon in the holding loop for Zürich again.  (So far, then, I’m unimpressed by the Bombardier C Series.)  We’d then to queue for half an hour for our re-booked boarding cards -  mine in row 5 and Martyn’s in row 38, respectively the first and last rows of the economy cabin (and his A seat lacked a window).  As I write, we have half an hour to wait to board a flight to poxy bloody Heathrow, and are working out how to get home, and at what extra cost.  Swiss kindly provided us with vouchers for a snack, limited to little more than bread and water, so I bought myself a proper sandwich.  And a glass of wine, oddly enough.

The flight was further delayed because of problem loading all the baggage, so,we lost our already delayed take-off slot.  Odd that, given that a third of the baggage had been lying around for four hours, and they must surely know how to load the luggage of a full A321.  When we pushed back, the captain obligingly told us that this was only because the gate was needed by an incoming flight, and we were being towed to another parking position.  Not a bad plan, in fact, because the parking position was at the end of runway 32, so we could take up our slot promptly.  In-flight catering amounted to a small roll with a scrape of cheese and some chopped cucumber, on detecting which I rejected it in favour of a night’s sleep.  Oh, and glasses of water and, mercifully, white wine.

Fortunately, I had good company on the flight, if not the company I wanted.  A young cardiologist, now working with a pharmaceutical company.  The flight did what it was supposed to, circled only a couple of times over Leatherhead and deposited us fairly promptly at Terminal 2.  Heathrow is, at the best of times, worthy of a lengthy tirade of spleen, even if one volunteers to use it.  That we had not, that we arrived there some five hours after we’d been scheduled to arrive at the airport we had chosen and that we then faced a long and complicated journey home did not improve my outlook on the world.  A long trek to the passport check ensued.  As usual half of the automatic gates weren’t working, and Martyn had to queue to be seen by an agent, waiting behind someone who evidently didn’t know when and where he was born.  A further very long trek to the railway station, and an extra £44 to get to Paddington.

Fortunately from that point onwards the process was smooth.  OK, another route march from the Heathrow Express to the Bakerloo line, but the train arrived promptly, connecting quickly with the Jubilee at Baker Street.  That connected with a train at London Bridge, and there was a taxi waiting at   Disgustedville Central.  From the firm that failed to turn up the day we left, ironically enough.  

Though I ought really to have slept till noon, I was anxious to get some watering done before the day warms up too much, and I’ve made a start on the laundry while Martyn snoozes on.  The garden is not too bad, in fact, and I see that we have the beginnings of a modest crop of dwarf French beans.  And, much as we enjoyed the wonderful scenery of Switzerland and the great company of friends, it is good to be home from the noisy surroundings of the past week.  I can’t honestly recommend the Ibis in Chur.  Though it’s very handy for the bus to the station and has shops nearby for those of us who dislike hotel dining rooms, it lacks air conditioning, and we were constantly disturbed by traffic noise: the busy road outside, cars queuing beneath the balcony for the McDrive downstairs and the crashing and banging from the Migros loading bay next door.  Oh, and sprogs on mopeds.  Chur is an excellent centre for touring E Switzerland by public transport, however, so if you wanted to use the Ibis, I dare say a room on the third floor at the back might be more satisfactory.

I’ll put up a collection of photos once my eyes are properly open.

Tapering down

What - Only two buses, four trains and a tram?  We’re gearing down in preparation for the journey home.

But we were nevertheless on the 08:47 bus to the station on Monday for a dullish, dampish ride up to St Gallen, where we had a stroll round the old town before visiting the cathedral and the abbey library.  Together they are worth the journey.  The cathedral, though rather ornate, is well proportioned, and has a good acoustic - someone was practising at the organ while we were there.  The abbey library is astonishing: gaudy baroque interior with bookcases on two levels.  More impressive was the small collection of medieval manuscripts on display in glass cases together with informative notes.

Thence to a decent if familiarly expensive lunch - better value today than hitherto at the Al Capone steakhouse at the Marktplatz.  We looked briefly at the textile museum after lunch.  Interesting, but one would need to be more informed on mechanical embroidery and fashion to make much of the clothing section.  The furnishing fabrics section was startling in places - rather a lot of dazzling 1960s op art, and some very loud colours.  Lots of imaginative trompe-l’oeil material, though.  And the tickets (free again) came on little pieces of fabric cut with pinking shears.

Back to the Ibis to make a start on the packing, and for a welcome cup of tea.  Our much-travelled kettle has served us well yet again, and one small refinement to our travelling kit was a bar of four 13-amp socket outlets wired up to a local plug.  It has made charging iPads, kindles and iPhones much easier.  Much as we love our big boats, the cabins come with one continental 16-amp, one 13-amp and two (for us) useless American socket outlets.  So we shall replace the Swiss plug with a French 16-amp one when we get home: it pays to keep a few old plugs and cables, eh?

Tuesday’s flight is fairly late, so we’ll have time in Zürich for lunch with a former colleague before we need to head out to the airport.  With a certain amount of Ach und Krach we have succeeded in downloading our boarding passes to our iPhones, so we shouldnt have to rummage about for paper.  Well, we can’t anyway, since we’ve no access to a printer.  We ought to have mastered this ages ago, but find that, with advancing years, the starting friction for new technology has become greater.  My next task is to find out how to use the phone for contactless credit card purchases...

New scam.

This popped up in my email today, purportedly from a former colleague.

Bonjour ,

Serais tu disponible à me répondre par Mail car j'ai un soucis très délicat a t'expliquer.

I replied, saying I’d be around later, and got this:

Je suis vraiment content de te lire. Tout d'abord, je te prie de garder le mail pour toi. Je suis actuellement en déplacement et de retour ce soir. Malheureusement, j'ai eu quelques problèmes graves faces auxquelles je ne peux faire face par manque de fonds. Je t'expliquerai mieux en détail une fois rentré. Concernant mon service dans l'immédiat, j'aimerais que tu te rendes dans un bureau à tabac ou station services et que tu demandes à acheter 2 tickets recharges Neosurf de 250€. (500€) Ensuite me transmettre les numéros de rechargement par mail. Je te rembourserai une fois de retours. Peux-tu y aller maintenant s'il te plait.

Merci pour ta réponse, je reste en ligne

Surprised it took me until this point to smell a rat.  The name that showed up when I pressed ‘reply’ was not that of my ex-colleague, but .   Now just waiting for my email list to be cloned.

Please ignore anything of this kind purporting to be from me.

More like a rest day

We started today with a cable car ride up Chur’s ‘Hausberg’, the Brambrüesch.  Good views down to the valley from the lower cable car, and of the mountains all around from the upper one, though that was spoiled a bit by the badly scratched Perspex windows.  We took a short walk in the meadow at the top, admiring the wild flowers - and the tadpoles in the pond!  There are good hiking opportunities from the top station, but the serious hearty stuff was being done by mountain bikers.  The bikes go up inside the lower cable car, but hang on hooks outside the small 4-passenger gondolas of the upper one.  Some bikers headed off along the paved roads (it is possible to drive up to the high meadow) but others headed for the terrifying descent through the woods.

We contented ourselves with a spot of botanising, and with enjoying the mild fresh air.  Returning to the valley floor by cable cars again, we took a short walk to the station, pausing for coffee/orange juice before hopping on the train up to Arosa.  We went there some years ago in chilly damp weather, and had rather written it off.  Today was mostly cloudy but mild, so we walked a short way into town and back down along the lake front, opting for a restaurant overlooking said pond.  The town was not really geared up yet for the holiday season: we guess that its market is walking tourists in the summer, and skiers in winter, so our visit rather fell between the two.  Lunch was disappointing, so we’ll spare you the details, save to mention that the Pinot Noir (Blauburgunder hereabouts) from the lower, northern part of the Graubünden was fit to drink.

We then treated ourselves to a ride on the cable cars to the summit of the Weisshorn, which offers superb views all round.  That alone was worth the slow train ride up to Arosa.  Even though the weather was dull, the views convinced us that we should re-visit - again - on a better day.  But this is the time of year to do it, with residual snow defining the contours of the mountains, and wild flowers in profusion.  Unremarkable ride back down to Chur (ie, I dozed off quite a few times).

The Weisshorn summit is over 2500m up, so I was wondering how I’d cope, having previously felt a bit dizzy and breathless at anything approaching 2000m.  Martyn speculates whether this may be another benefit of the blood pressure pills.  I’ll ask the quack next time I see him.

Rest day, eh?

With slightly lower temperatures and a bit less food intake, we slept a bit better.  Just as well we hadn’t decided on an early night, though: Switzerland’s win against Serbia in some popular game or other resulted in loud cheers from the blocks of flats round about, then lots of car revving and horn sounding.  Switzerland is such a discreet and restrained country.  We were awakened around 04:30 by what can only have been the sounds of a herd of cattle being driven nearby.  The neighbourhood being known less for grazing than for motor car dealerships, this was somewhat puzzling.  As we waited for our bus this morning, two tractors passed by, towing trailers loaded with cattle. Our neighbour in the first train of the day didn’t know, she being from Zürich, but assumed that it had to do with the ceremonial drive to the alpine pastures.   Some 20 years ago, I encountered the reverse process, when cows came crashing through the hedges into the communal gardens in Dübendorf, where my outlook was at least over farm land.

We’d thought about taking the train up to Arosa today for a leisurely lunch, but forecasts of a midday temperature of around 10°C sent us in search of Plan D.  Bus to station, trains to Disentis/Mustér, Andermatt, Göschenen, Erstfeld and Flüelen, then a boat to Luzern.  Having hardened ourselves to Swiss prices we had a somewhat lacklustre lunch on board, though the accompanying Schwyz white wine was very palatable.  Rather than do touristy stuff in Luzern, we left the boat at the Verkehrshaus, where we caught a train we’d have struggled to catch at the main station, travelling back via changes in Uznach and Sargans, getting back to the hotel around 7:00 pm.

The day has taken us through a wonderful variety of scenery, starting with the gorge of the Vorderrhein, and continuing through the slopes and meadows that sum up everyone’s idea of rural Switzerland.  There were still a few patches of grubby snow by the side of the line here and there as we climbed towards Andermatt, and a lot at higher levels.  Next came the precipitate gorge of the Reuss between Andermatt and Erstfeld, though you only get fleeting glimpses of the river between the numerous tunnels and galleries.

But for me the charm of higher altitudes at this time of year is the profusion of wild flowers.  Towards the 2000m mark you start to find little azaleas in flower, and later in the journey a lot of alpine roses were flowering.  But everywhere there are daisies, scabious, campanulas and a plethora of yellow and pink flowers that I couldn’t identify.

From Andermatt to Flüelen, we followed the same route, roughly speaking, as we did on Thursday, but on the north ramp towards the old Gotthard tunnel, complete with its three views of the church at Wassen from above, alongside and below.  To gain and lose height, the engineers of the original tunnel used some ingenious loops and spiral tunnels, hence the multiple exposure of the Kirche Wassen.  The scenery is lovely, but the cut in the journey time through the new tunnel is worth having  if time matters.

A quiet evening back at the hotel sorting photographs and taking a modicum of nourishment: typically disappointing station kiosk sandwiches, tea and biscuits and a spot of not quite cool enough Listel Gris de Gris.

Bernina

Fabulous.  I haven’t yet found out how to post pictures to the blog from the iPad, but really you’d be better to look it up on YouTube.  We took the Bernina Express to Tirano and back today.  Each leg is just over four hours, so it makes for a long day.  Not so long as for Pam and Geoff, who very sportingly joined us this morning at Chur, having travelled from Bern, and that before there was a tram to get them to the station.  As I write, they should be just about to board a tram from the main station, about sixteen hours after they left it.  So, a long day, and spent in fine company.

The line is extraordinary.  Built over 100 years ago, it crosses some of the craggiest terrain you’ll find in Europe, and includes some landmark architecture, notably the Landwasser viaduct and the 5.8km Albula tunnel, dug with picks and shovels.  To gain and lose height without resorting to rack and pinion, there are numerous hairpin bends, spiral tunnels and an over-ground spiral at Brusio.  The 7% gradients are about as steep as adhesion will permit, and that’s why the architecture is so daring.  I wonder if the founding fathers ever paused during the building work to think whether it might have paid to go for rack and pinion and a simpler route, but I guess labour was cheap and expendable.

On the way out, the Albula valley was wreathed in cloud, so after Filisur we didn’t see much.  As soon as we emerged from the Albula tunnel, though, there was a general ‘Aah!’ from the carriage as we emerged into brilliant sunshine and practically cloudless skies.  We paused for a quarter of an hour at Alp Grüm to marvel at the scenery -  a distant glacier feeding countless waterfalls that would eventually feed into the Adriatic.  (I was relieved to find that I coped better with the 2000m+ altitude better than in the past.)

We had lunch in Tirano, the little Italian town at the end of the Bernina line, where the restaurant of the same name, used to serving people well within the interval between arrival and departure of the Bernina Express, greeted us warmly and fed us well enough.  Returning on the same day allowed us to watch out for things we’d admired on the way out, and gave us the chance to enjoy the upper Albula valley after the cloud had burned off.

It has been a comfort to have cooler weather today. There was a fair bit of rain last night, but not enough to relieve the muggy feel.  The hotel lacks air conditioning, and is next to a major road out of town, and our room is one floor above a McDonald’s drive-through, so the late evenings are plagued with the rumble of cars ticking over immediately below.  The early evenings are plagued by the jeunesse dorée of Chur, zooming around in their loud cars and squadrons of mopeds.  A room higher up on the back of the hotel might be better, but if we are to return to the region, it’ll be a complete re-think.  Self-catering would be a better idea too, given the eye-watering cost of eating out, and the fact that said eyes tend to be (even) bigger than our bellies.

I just learn that Pam and Geoff are safely home and rehydrated, planning an early night.  As are we.

Another couple of days on the move

Despite losing an hour on moving to Continental European time, we were up, showered fed and out before 08:00 on Wednesday.  We neither of us care for breakfasts in basic hotels, so had tea in our room with croissants from the petrol station next door, then took the bus and went for a stroll round Chur’s old town centre, which is practically free of motor vehicles.  Many buildings are lavishly decorated, and although few go back more than a few centuries, the town shows signs of being among the oldest settlements in Europe.

After that, we did a sort of circular tour, pausing at Rhäzüns to take the cable car up to Feldis, enjoying fantastic views of the mountains, with very clear tree and snow lines, and of the valley of the Hinterrhein.  Thence to Thusis for a quick and good lunch before joining the Albula line train to Filisur.  What an experience!  It’s hard to imagine such an engineering masterpiece being created with the technology of its time.  We’ll be repeating that stretch in both directions on Friday when Pam and Geoff join us for a trip the whole length of the line to Tirano.  From there we continued to Davos, then from there via Klosters back to the main line at Landquart.  The Davos - Klosters stretch is pretty spectacular, with views of mountains and valleys that rival those from some cable cars.  By the time we reached Landquart, I was just about railwayed out for the day, so it was not a welcome surprise to find that our train back to Chur stopped at every hole in the hedge.

Still, after a rest, we headed back to town for supper.

Having booked seats for Thursday for the express bus to Bellinzona, we were in town again promptly, having breakfast this time in the café opposite the station.  Having learned the Swiss disdain for queuing, I barged in and got us two upstairs seats at the front, which was very much worthwhile.  The bus is comfortable and air-conditioned, and the views as we drove up and over the San Bernardino were wonderful.  Unfortunately, the bus goes through the tunnel rather than over the pass, but that at least brings the journey down to just under two hours.

We took a train along to Locarno, and had a rather odd chicken Caesar salad each (barbecue sauce on the chicken, and immoderate amounts of ras al hanout in the dressing), then strolled along the waterfront before starting the trek back to Chur.  We connected with a Zürich train at Bellinzona, and for the first time experienced the fast, straight journey through the Gotthard base tunnel.  It takes just under twenty minutes compared with the hour or so on the ingenious old route.  So, like channel tunnel crossings compared with the ferry, it is fast but rather boring.

More spectacular scenery tomorrow, when we hope it will be a bit cooler!

On our travels again

We’ve had the great pleasure of a couple of swift visits from Pam and Geoff lately: they were passing through Gatwick on a cultural rip to Riga (which, incidentally, they thought a very attractive city).

Tuesday

As I write, we are on a train to London, sweaty and stressed.  The taxi we ordered to get us to the station had failed to arrive half an hour after the due time, so we’d to schlepp our cases down to the bus stop.  Needless to say, it was a few minutes before the hour at which I can use my bus pass.  Still, the bus got us to the station just in time for us to miss our fallback train.  Fortunately, there was another 12 minutes later, but with two further connections in town to get us to the airport, we’re glad we’ve built in plenty of recovery time.  Why is travelling so stressful?

Later: as it turned out, we were at City airport with plenty of time to spare, which was handy, since the supposedly rapid security clearance involved quite a long queue.  Still, we had time to eat a sandwich before the flight was called, and to listen to a thoroughly unpleasant, patronising, bullying woman in the row of seats next to ours harrassing (I suspect) a junior colleague.  Fortunately, if she’s on our plane, she’s nowhere near us!

The plane is one of Swiss’s new Bombardier aircraft, which I’m disappointed to say I find cramped, uncomfortable and very noisy.  I think the problem is the ventilation fans: I had read that this was a problem.  The engines are of the current geared turbofan generation, and at a certain speed give the pronounced growl that we often hear from the Air Baltic planes that pass over us on approach to Gatwick.  Still, Swiss provided us with a mozzarella and herb sandwich and a glass of wine, which is more than we’re used to on short flights.

Once in Switzerland, everything worked fine, of course.  Clean train connecting with clean train connecting with a clean bus that dropped us close to the hotel.  Fine views of the Zürisee and the Walensee on our way down to Chur, and in fine weather all the way.  The hotel is basic but adequate, and is next door to a Migros that will supply pastries, and hence save us from the ordeal of hotel breakfast.  Like the true Brits we are, we brought a small kettle and teabags with us, and the Migros equipped us with nice china mugs and fresh milk.  Good pizzas for supper close by the hotel, but the wine, if good, was positively Cunard-priced.  Oh well, it’s only money....

Exercise, and a bit of culture

Today started with the usual post knee-knifing routines, which take about ten minutes.  Then it was a lot of bend and a little stretch as we cut down ash seedlings, tidied up the rhododendron and euonymous and hauled out a few miles of weeds.  Next we'd to prepare for tomorrow's delivery of our new bed, which involved dismantling the old double and schlepping it down to the garage for collection by the YMCA next week.  Having hoovered the carpet, we'd then to dismantle the front room bed and reassemble it in the back.  Unfortunately, I'd forgotten to put the mobile phone in my pocket, so I can't report the number of paces involved, not that it would have been that impressive if I'd remembered.  All this bracketed by taking the Egg for service and MoT and going and getting it back.  It has done fewer than 1000 miles since its last MoT, so we really ought to give a little thought as to whether it is worth the non-variable costs.  We should probably use it a bit more for the shopping runs, since the almost new battery shows signs of running a bit low.  Still, it'll get a run to Southampton and back in July/August when we go for our next big boat adventure.

 I grew some aquilegias from seed a few years ago, and they are doing well this year after a couple of feeble seasons.  The seeds were Suttons' Simply the Best', and I think the plants need to be fed to give good displays: they've had a bit more top dressing this year than in the past.. 

The iris sibirica are going over now.  A lovely subject when in flower, it makes for rather a lot of grass for the remainder of the year until we hack it down in the autumn.  The oriental poppies haven't been bad, though the recent heavy showers mean that they last even less long.  A helianthemum that I think I grew from seed has really got its roots down in the rockery now, and is blooming fit to bust, as is its relative nearby, a cistus pulverulens.  The latter gets rather leggy, so I'll need to take cuttings soon and grow them on over winter with a view to renewing the stock next year.  The c. purpureus is also flowering copiously.  Lovely thing.

Roses are doing pretty well, though the usual pests and diseases are making an appearance, dammit.  The one on the right here is planted behind the back wall of the conservatory, where it rather wastes its sweetness on the desert air: we can't see it from the house.  We'll transplant it next back end to where we can see it from the conservatory.  Martyn cleared a bed that had been occupied by leggy, sickly penstemons, heaved in a sack of muck and stocked it with potentillas and annual rudbeckias, so that's perhaps where it'll go in the autumn.  I should add that both of the photographs were taken with my iPhone, and I'm really impressed with the quality of the lens.

We went on Monday to see The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, which we thought quite good.  Strong performances from Tom Courtney and Penelope Wilton, though the leading actors (known, I gather, to watchers of Downton Abbey and Game of Thrones), were good but not brilliant.  A bit schmaltzy and sentimental in parts, unfortunately: I don't like it when fillums mak me greet. 

Rather more honestly moving was Historia's Dear Chocolate Soldier, which we saw last Saturday at the Concert Artistes' Association in Covent Garden.  It is built round the correspondence between a child in England (and her parents) and a soldier serving on the Somme and later at Passchendaele, and is interspersed with some historic narrative, WWI poetry and some laundered versions of songs popular at the time.  

Other than that, little to report this week.  A broadly OK visit to the dentist yesterday first thing followed by a typically frustrating day at the hobby - well, half day in fact, since both matters ran short, and I was home by 1:30. 

All told, we've been out and about a bit more this week, which is refreshing after the long winter and short days.  But nobody need remind us that we're a mere fortnight away from the longest day.