My version of Switzerland - by Justin

After their positively frothy jaunt through Italy, riding first class trains through Tuscany and enjoying long, basily dinners and escorted tours of Pisa, Florence, and Rome, Randy and Gillian were ripe for a misadventure.

They literally went from a sumptuously velveteen castle on the Rhein to an austere wooden cabin with a hole in the window. Welcome to our world.

As for Kate, myself, Barbara, and Bill, we’d been in Vienna for the past couple days, and, from the looks of these two pictures, having a really, really good time testing toilets.
There were seven of us in total now – including Pecos – and none of us had any idea what we were getting ourselves into.
Our drive down to the Swiss Alps started inauspiciously, when a “CHECK COOLANT” light stubbornly flashed after about an hour’s drive. A quick pit stop later, we were on the road again, as Willy Nelson sings, and ready for a kraut and pork lunch in the city of Triberg, our first planned stop on this regretful ride. Located Center Square of Germany’s fabled Black Forest – a historic locale we haven’t truly visited since we’ve been living in Germany – Triberg was home to delicious Swabian cuisine and Cuckoo clocks. Lots and lots of Cuckoo clocks.
Just as we were swerving up up up the pine-ridden bluffs on our way to Cuckoo clocks and Black Forest Cake dessert, we entered our first snowstorm. Our van had a little problem skidding outside our recommended restaurant, but otherwise was just fine. So far.

What we didn’t know at the time was that our car had summer tires, front wheel drive (when all the weight was in the back and all the snowy roads the rest of the way to Switzerland were steep), and that it was generally very bad in the snow. We also didn’t know that it was going to snow the ENTIRE expedition and that Gillian really likes Swabian cuising – yes, large servings of Spätzle, hefeweisen, and Black Forest Cake all became best friends in Gillian’s tiny tummy; and they met there often.

In Triberg, some of us (including Pecos) visited the main attraction, Germany’s highest waterfall, which is the highlight of this small, half-timbered town and of the entire Black Forest.
The white petticoat didn’t look half bad enveloping the cascade, but the snow was sticking to the roads and our cabin was still a ways away.
After three more hours of driving higher and higher altitudinally, we arrived at our snowy home for the next two nights. Sort of.

We approached the Alpine town of Grindelwald, located at the foothills of the Jungfrau Region, under the cover of darkness and, at this point, at least an inch of snow. The road to our doubtless picturesque cabin in the mountains was as steep as the prices in this Swiss town, and no amount of ardent pushing by Bill and Randy could prevent the rest of us in the van from adhering to the laws of gravity and poor planning. So we parked nearby and hoofed it the rest of the way to the awaiting warmth of the snowed in cabin.
After more than 14 hours of sleep, Randy and Gillian awoke to a smorgasbord of delights purchased by Kate and me after precarious 20-minute walk down to the one small grocery in this part of town. (Kate got up to pee just before 7, you see, and noticed that it looked like Santa’s Village outside. So we took pictures, made coffee, and busied ourselves with a little morning shopping.) Saturday’s continued snowstorm imprisoned us in Grindelwald that day, but allowed us to wander around the skiers’ town, do a little window shopping, and play in the snow.
Kate, Barbara, and I even finagled some sleds for ourselves and managed to avoid injuring each other while riding them.

That night, we drank Glühwein, ate Kaiserschmarrn, and played cards from dusk on. We didn’t mind spending our time this way because it was the off-season, so everything was closed.

Sunday morning showed us the first glimpses of clear roads and blue skies, and we took advantage of that the best we could, taking a cable car up to the hill town of Mürren, which offered us short-lived by breathtaking views of the Alps. This marked my fourth time coming to this region of the world, but it’s by far my favorite in Europe, so I didn’t mind. I really can’t say enough how beautiful the scenery is. Even Randy managed to lift an eye away from his Gameboy® (without hitting pause, though) to sneak a peak at the beauty.
Driving back that afternoon, we saw even more of the atypical views that are practically mundane in Switzerland. While driving by one of the lakes engulfing Interlaken, we saw peaceful green bluffs, cedar speckled fields with cows munching on lunch, spire-filled towns resting along the lakeshore waters, and stony tunnels piercing snow covered mountains – and all those adjectives were seen through one window.

Our one stop on the way back was in Heidelberg for dinner, where we briefly gazed upon the old church, ruinous castle, and Alte Brücke that make this city famous for tourists. We actually took a wrong turn and ended up driving through the tourist-riddled and car-free pedestrian zone, which appropriately puts a cap on our misadventure, but also made me appreciate even more the trip. Sure there were difficulties, but we managed to smile our way through them and chalk up another exploit for the blog.