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About This Author
My name is Joy, and I love to write.
Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground.
 
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Jottings From Journeys #294645 added June 14, 2004 at 7:30pm
Restrictions: None
Alps: Zermatt, Bern, Lugano, Castles
The word Alp comes from the Celtic Alb meaning white or height. Some claim it also may come from “elf” meaning dark and otherworldly. Seven major European countries, plus others, split the Alps among them: Switzerland, France, Germany, Italy, Liechtenstein, Yugoslavia, and Austria. In local lexicon, Alp is the high pasture where the herds can feed in summer.
Talking about herds, the fattest yet the healthiest cows I have ever seen were at Switzerland. The sheep too, here and around French Alps, were well-cared for and every sheep in each herd was marked with red-dye, the mark consisting usually of a circle with a letter inside. So when the herd moved nibbling grass, we saw a white blanket with red design moving over the pastures.
People in Switzerland experience not only Alpine Festivals, William Tell plays, yodeling, Swiss wrestling, beer sausages, but also they conduct direct democracy with 25 sovereign states and enjoy great diversity from village to village. There are places in Switzerland where the language is French, there are places where the language is German. There is even a Canton around the Italian Alps where they speak Italian. Not to worry though, most of the Swiss know several languages and quite a few of them are fluent in English.
The highest Alp is Mont Blanc. Yet one of the most photographically reproduced is Matterhorn with the village of Zermatt at its feet..
When I first saw Matterhorn from the ground up, I felt as if I was looking at a solidified ardent flame. A native who saw me look at it with awe said: “You can climb it,” as if it were nothing. I laughed... not at him but at me. I wouldn’t even dare to think of trying it.
In Zermatt, or in other places as well, locals show off their skill by the number of times they have climbed the Matterhorn; although, many fall numerous times. A local had climbed it more than 300 times. His wife shrugged: “Useless to say how many times,” she said. “The mountain is going nowhere. It stays there and only the workless (also means worthless) do the climbing.”
There are no cars in Zermatt. Transportation is possible by using the cog train and horse-drawn sleighs. Sitting in a horse drawn sleigh with a lap robe, which is a folded small blanket, with all that eternal snow around is one of the most romantic things I can think of.
Zermatt has narrow streets, hotels and inns with a relaxed air of history, sports shops, boutiques, jewelry stores and rows and cases of world’s finest watches. One wonderful thing in Zermatt is the food. No matter how big, small, cheap, or expensive the cafe or restaurant we stopped in, the place was spotless. Everything was spic and span clean with flowers at each table. The food was of very high quality and some Swiss wines were at least at par with that of the French. Most lunchtime fare among the natives though consisted of soup, salad, sausages and potatoes and of course “Bier” in long thick mugs topped with thick foam.
Unlike the other little towns I knew from before, Zermatt has a large tourist population probably year-round, with a good number of young people. You have to be young and agile like a mountain goat to dare climb anything.
No wonder the natives took to clock making in Switzerland. Somebody had to count something in the whitened solitude of the nights.
The winter in Switzerland is a fairy tale, especially at nights. The falling snow flakes blur any other light while they accumulate everywhere, even on steep roofs. Everything is softer, magical, and gentle.
Like the snow blanketing mountains, rocks, boulders, ridges, and crags, maybe people too need to deal and work with hard things, sharp things, puzzling things, to soften the edginess inside themselves, especially when a mountain’s magnetic draw pulls them deeper and deeper, and forces them to create something, anything for a feeling of elation and a pride of accomplishment.
Swiss women used to be as accomplished with the needle and thread creating laced and embroidered clothing as their partners still are with making clocks. Nowadays, it seems old handiworks and homemade fashions are becoming a thing of the past and off the rack mentality is contaminating the mountain passes. It would be a shame if the weather blackened woodwork and carvings on the chalets were to be exchanged with cheap plastic or some other ungainly invention.
The best resorts in Switzerland for me, since I am not a climber or a mountain goat, are the lakeside towns and fishing villages. Since most of the Alpine lakes are carved by glaciers, the water inside the lakes sparkles like a gemstone, be it a blue topaz, emerald, or lapis lazuli, and the lakes are edged by fancy gardens and all sorts of greenery.
In nice weather when the strong sun shines on the mountains and the area, compassionate peaks embrace the lakes and send cool breezes down on their protégés. These are the times to live for, whether one takes a short hike through the woods or by the lakeside or moves higher up to climb.
One climber asked me to accompany his group at least during the first part of their climb, which consisted of nothing else but hiking, and told me I could always take the cable back.
I told him I was too old for that and it would be risky. His eyes lit up. “But it is just the point,” he said. “Risk is great. Risk is the healthiest thing one can do for himself.”
So I let myself be convinced, although I had no idea how far the walk would be. From a distance, the place he pointed to didn’t seem too much. Little did I know that to go there, we had to take a serpentine path and even do some rock climbing, which I had never done before. Very soon after we started out, I was feeling tired, beat-up, and clumsy. Worse yet, what little dignity was left, I had to give it up for during the climbing part; I had to let the people pull me from above while others pushed my butt up from below.
In hindsight, I think, by accepting his offer I did push things (like asthma) a bit, but I got a sense of satisfaction from dealing with fears and hardship. A lesson like this one is applicable beyond the mountains and beyond any hikes even if one wheezes a little.
Once I asked a climber what was the hardest in climbing a mountain. He said, “The last few hundred feet to the summit, because you have to step across from the snow patches on to the loose rock.”
This made me get a few mountain photos and look at them carefully. He was right. As snowy or icy a mountain seemed, its top ridges could be detected as bare rock, sometimes as a solid line, sometimes as broken rocks.
In the Alps too, the only things that whiten the top ridges are the clouds. This may be because the highest heads do not wear crowns.
Talking of crowns, the Alps have quite a few castles built on them. The most interesting ones are those that King Ludwig built in Bavaria. We visited it on one of those trips when we went to see one of my cousins. For an only child, I have scores of of cousins most of them scattered around Europe. It must be the family luck, in some cases the family curse, that people of most of my generation married foreigners.
Coming back to the castle, it is an ivory castle on a solitary peak with majestic spires called Neuschwanstein. To enter the castle we had to wait in line, buy tickets, and then wait in line again because tourists from all lands come to visit it. It really is a very pretty castle. My cousin’s husband told us to come back and see it in winter if we could, because then it looks really like something out of a fairy tale.
Although it was summer during the time of our visit the castle looked magnificent, like a place any princess would want to wake up in. I could only imagine what it would be like in winter. The entire façade of the castle was of limestone found near Swansee (Swan Lake) nearby, and the walls that supported the stones were of brick. Against the backdrop of Bavarian Alps, this white castle with red trim (because of the bricks) stood like a dream.
Once we were inside, I couldn’t believe the splendor I witnessed; neither could I believe all those spiral stairs we had to climb. An old lady (at least a lady older than me) just stopped and sat on one of the steps and waved us past by her. I didn’t blame her one bit. Since the staircase was narrow, we were tripping over as we tried to walk around her.
The castle was built during the second half of the nineteenth century, as an imitation of a medieval castle. Then this castle itself was imitated by Walt Disney for his sleeping beauty’s castle.
King Ludwig was said to be homosexual and had a special relationship with Richard Wagner as the musician’s patron. Rooms on the third floor are based upon the legends of Wagner’s operas. For Tannhauser a winter garden and grotto and for Lohengrin a chamber and a throne room with a vaulted ceiling supported by columns and decorated with stars. The throne room surprised me because it was almost exactly like the inside of Hagia Sophia in Istanbul, which I have seen inside out. Also there was another place on the fourth floor dedicated to Parsifal.
King Ludwig was a romantic. Besides his fantasy of the third floor cave built for Wagner’s Tannhauser, the king had a love for swans. The motif of swans repeated itself in small statuettes throughout the castle. There’s a life size porcelain swan which is said to be the king’s favorite. Even the tap in the kitchen had a swan head.
All through the castle there were breathtaking chandeliers. King Ludwig’s Bed had the most intricate woodcarving and the bed covers were embroidered in the most glitzy fashion.
The kitchen was large with a vaulted ceiling with a huge stove in the middle of it. There was a basin near a window. We were told that it was for keeping the king’s fish fresh.
There was another castle nearby, which was yellow in color. It was the castle where Ludwig grew up. We were too tired to visit that one. Anyhow, I believe all the castles in Europe are good to look at from the outside, walking around inside them is really interesting but too tiring.
Neuschwanstein Castle was also equipped with the best technology of its times. The toilets were flushable at each story and there was running water on all floors. The castle had central heating system and a winter garden with glass sliding doors.
King Ludwig built other castles too. Another one people said was interesting is Linderhof, to the east of Neuschwanstein. These castles cost so much that even after they were just finished, they were opened to the public for money, to cover the expenses. To this day, that tradition continues.
I learned that during the last few years they have built a separate ticket place before entering the castle and also tickets can be bought beforehand, I don’t know if online or by mail. When we went there, about nine years ago, we had to wait in long lines just to get inside.
To me, King Ludwig seemed to be a character created to inspire any writer. Known by many nicknames as the Swan King, Dream King, Mad Ludwig or The Mad King of Bavaria, Ludwig was an extravagant spender who became king at the age of 19 and never fit in with the royal crowd. He had serious problems relating to all people in general and to women in particular.
Even as a child of 12, King Ludwig was fascinated by the legends and Wagner. After becoming king, when he couldn’t stand Munich’s society, he withdrew to the Bavarian Alps where he met Wagner and began a long but very stormy friendship with him until Wagner’s death.
It is said that Neuschwanstein was built in Wagner’s memory and Ludwig irritated the builders and craftsmen by showing too much interest and getting on their nerves by his constant intervention while his palaces and castles were built.
Ludwig’s death was a puzzle also, for he died under questionable circumstances three days after he was declared insane. Some think that he might have been murdered. His death was by drowning in a lake to the south of Munich.
Yet, in our day, the legendary king Ludwig’s fairy tale castles are a huge tourist attraction and they are said to be a very important source of income for the state of Bavaria.
I was very much impressed with the environs around the Neuschwanstein Castle. Although the place had become too touristy, the landscape, the mountains, and the colors were breathtaking. There was a bridge at a distance where, from higher up looking down at the scenery, we could see the castle in all its grandeur. Maybe grandeur is the word to use for the Alps surrounding it and gaudy grandeur for the castle’s insides; although, to me, the castle looked cute and charming from far away.
A question I still ask is, would this same castle capture so many imaginations, had it been situated elsewhere other than the Alps? For the same token, would we have the same exact study of psychology today had not Jung visited these mountains with his father in his youth? After all, he considered mountains and trees as symbols of the self. He believed that all knowledge about the world, understanding, thought, dream, opinion, philosophy, peace, and courage existed inside a mountain. Maybe he was right. In any case, don’t people look up high for things of quality?
Especially since Europe has such a dependable train system, the best way to see the Alps is by train (or tram) for they climb up higher than I ever could and also go faster without losing breath. There are several rail lines such as Swiss Rail, Inter Rail, Euro Rail, but it is better to check all these things before setting off, because so much change comes about and additional lines spring up each year.
A good option to consider is a rail pass that can be purchased to use practically non-stop over a number of days. Plus some train stations have wonderfully clean restaurants and viewing platforms higher up. So even waiting for a train, one might consider himself as sightseeing.
Some hikers took the train to a higher point and then hiked down, which made the most sense to me. Downhill has to be easier than uphill, but then mountaineering is a strange process all around and it is not for me to pass any judgment on the issue.
The best part of Europe where to really experience the Alps is in the middle of Switzerland, in Bernese Oberland region. Bernese Oberland region is the place where cows graze on high pastures during the warmer seasons. Plus, Bernese Oberland is the starting place for the hiking trails, excursions into the higher Alps region, rail and cable cars lifts, and many more activities. Here one can savor the natural world while enjoying the most modern creature comforts in addition to undertaking some very daring adventures.
While in Switzerland and taking tours in the region, visiting the capital city of Bern by the river Aare is always a wise decision. Here’s a tidbit for us writers. Bern is the city where first international copyright laws were passed during the late nineteenth century.
The city of Bern, at 1800 feet altitude, snuggles into a U shaped arm of the river Aare, extending its reach to the other sides by historical bridges and railways. Surrounded by densely wooded areas and mountains, Bern is not a crowded city, except for tourists.
A walking tour in good weather starting along Hauptbahnhof (train station) and stretching along one street, which doesn’t even take two miles, gives the traveler the feel of this old city with its cobblestone streets, famed clock tower (no, not as tall as Big Ben but its clock is more visible), many flamboyant ancient fountains still with water, monuments and a cathedral. On one of the fountains --I think it is called “Justice Fountain”--the figure of justice steps on the heads of criminals.
Bern’s train station has three levels of shopping, introducing bear paraphernalia here and there. The bear toys, bear figures, and everything about bears, were to be seen in the city as well. There were even two real live bear pits with automatic carrot dispensers or human carrot vendors to feed the bears.
We were told that bears were Bern’s symbol since the twelfth century. The legend (or fact?) so goes that a duke who founded the city said he would name the city after the first animal he shot. (Nice guy!) He shot a bear and thus he named the city Baren for bear which became Bern. For that reason a bear figure is on the state flag and also on the coat of arms.
Talking about Bern’s astronomical clock tower, it is situated at the east gate right around the marketplace where one can buy Swiss goods at a much lower price than buying them here at home in USA at the imported price. Every hour on the hour when the clock strikes, there is a four minute performance by many moving figures. Under the watch of father time, a jester rings the bells; there is a parade of bears, a knight in armor and a crowing rooster, and this has been going on since the sixteenth century. Imagine!
In Bern, each fountain has a story or depicts some kind of imagery. The weirdest one, I thought, was the fountain of the child-eating ogre.
What we saw was an ogre eating a child while holding other children to be consumed later. Maybe it was the despotic feudalism that produced such gory ideas. Someone commented that the ogre represented the Jews of Europe, which made my hairs stand at end. For a continent that prides itself in being civilized and open-minded and lords that thought over to US and many other countries in the world --Switzerland-- actually Europe sure has a nasty, shameful past.
Many people climb the 270 steps of the huge church tower of the famous Cathedral of St. Vincent in Bern and they say the view of the Alps is fantastic from the top. Well, I didn’t. I had climbed the Statue of Liberty in NYC, and even though I was 23 years old then, that was enough to teach me a lesson on climbing tower stairs. But the inside of the Cathedral is lovely with antique stained glass panels, though the tympanum at the west front of the Cathedral is overly decorated with nearly 250 figures (somebody must have counted it, since they told me that) portraying the Last Judgment.
Right around the Cathedral, stands the Moses fountain and after that is the place where Einstein lived and probably developed his theory of relativity while he worked at the University of Bern. Now, was that such a good thing? (I don’t mean E=MC2 but what it led to.) I bet Einstein doubted it himself when he looked back on it later. Yet the Swiss take great pride in Einstein’s having lived there and also in their higher education that led the world at least for a while.
The main street, lined with houses and shops built several centuries ago but kept in good condition, is called Marktgasse, which has the famous prison tower, which now serves as some kind of a museum.
There are quite a few museums in Bern. Since we feel that museums do not reflect the city they are in, usually we avoid them unless they contain something that may be of interest to either one of us. Yet, we went inside the Swiss Alpine Museum which had ancient maps of the Alps, mountaineering equipment used through the centuries, models of mountain huts, and anything belonging to the exploration of the Alps. It was interesting enough, but could not match the beauty of the mountains themselves.
The disorderliness of what I wrote so far is because it has been some time and the images come to me haphazardly. Bern, on the contrary, is a very tidy and pretty city. Passages lined with vendors connect the streets; the streets are filled with small shops and small, clean restaurants are all over the city. Many varieties of flowers to enjoy are present everywhere and along the windows of almost every house flowerboxes are filled with geraniums and such.
A walking tour in Bern is great because a weary traveler like me can always take a delicious Swiss coffee and chocolate break, and if she can stand the fatigue of walking even more, the horse and cattle market is also a sight to see.
One other thing that was interesting to me was the many flags hanging and waving everywhere in Bern. I thought they had a national holiday but they told me that the flags are there all the time.
Most people visit Bern first, then they go to Zermatt. We did the opposite, but as my husband says, we always do the opposite. It didn’t matter though, for wherever we went we were comfy inside down beds and enjoyed an excellent variety of Swiss cheeses and wine. What I would have liked would be to visit one of the many chocolate factories, but we were told only the business groups were given such tours but it was possible, to talk your way into one; however, pushiness not being one our virtues, we gave up on the idea, and went to Hershey’s in PA instead when we came back to USA.
During the last trip that I was talking about, after Bern, we traveled further north into Germany from the southern tip of the country to high North; however, I don’t want to leave Switzerland just yet since I’d like to rave about one of my most favorite places in the world, Lugano in Ticino, situated in southern Switzerland just before the Italian border, a place we had discovered in an earlier trip.
Switzerland is a multi-language country. German, actually Swiss German, during this certain time we were in Switzerland, was the language we encountered as the language spoken mostly. Switzerland’s written German, however, is like the one spoken in Germany.
During our earlier visits to the country when we have been in cities like Geneva and Neuchatel, French was the main language, but --surprise of all surprises-- to the south, we have also met some very warm-blooded Italians who talked Italian in the pleasant coolness or rather warmth of the Swiss canton Ticino situated just before the Italian border.
“Benvenuti, benvenuti!” Everywhere we went, in Lugano, we were welcomed by open arms.
We first witnessed Lugano from Monte Lema, a southern Alp with a modern cable lift. You didn’t think I would hike up there, did you? Besides, sitting inside a cable lift is almost like flying, although I am not into flying either unless I am inside an airplane.
I am also not into paragliding. Yet, we enjoyed the sight of many paragliders in most places over the Alps and we saw even more of them around Ticino.
Monte Lema has the most splendid view of Lake Lugano, Lake Maggiore, and southern Ticino. On Monte Lema a terraced restaurant, actually more like a self-service take-out, offered us a variety of simple lunches. The terrace had a wood planked deck-like floor and long picnic tables with benches where we sat to eat our lunch, watching the magnificence of the view with mountains, lakes, and cities in the distance glowing in glorious colors.
While admiring Lake Lugano from the top of Monte Lema, we met a couple from New Jersey who told us that they went on a day cruise on the lake. I just had to experience that. If there is water with a sightseeing cruise on it, be it a lake, river, or an arm of the ocean, something impels me to that cruise. My husband, I bet, will remember but will not want to bring back a few boat and water related adventures I pushed him into, under not so agreeable (but hilarious) circumstances. Yet, to the contrary, our boat trip on Lake Lugano was a pleasant one.
If I recall correctly, they had cruises almost every hour or several times during the day. At about lunchtime one day, we boarded a white and turquoise boat with “Navigazione Lugano” written on the side of it. I know this because I have written it down in my tiny notebook.
We went up to the top deck, and as we sailed, the cool lake breeze, the beautiful dark blue lake surrounded by lush, green covered Alps that looked like moss hills, and the lakeside towns and villages, some boasting of colorful flowery patches, made us forget about the lunch served on board. Such extravagant richness of nature and beauty of the sights humbles a person and makes him think how lucky he is to be there to witness it all.
Alps around Lugano, though quite high, seem more rounded at the peaks than those in mid to northern Europe. So were the people who seemed to be smoother, friendlier, and more open in their ways. The food, also, was excellent, but since I am partial to Italian cooking, I don’t know if what I have just said is a fair representation or not.
In other northern Swiss cities, the food is delicious in a local sense, but extremely pricey, especially if one ate all his meals in a restaurant. Upon the discovery of a supermarket type of store called Migros we were able to cut the cost down when we were in Bern and other major Swiss cities.
Talking about my favorite subject -food- again, in most places in Europe that we’ve been to, the evening meal is the slow meal. Waiters really take their time serving the customers because the idea is the last meal should be enjoyed. If the food is arriving too slowly, it is because the waiter waiting on you is a good one.
In my opinion the best food I ever ate was the Italian food in Lugano, more Italian food during another trip at the Amalfi Coast and Turkish food on the Bosphorus. Fourth place is a tie between France and Spain, Spain winning the friendly atmosphere contest, France winning on the variety and perfection of French cooking. Of course, I can’t put away the hearty German dishes and the excellent potato and onion omelet of the Swiss, Bavarian Beer and most local wines they brought us wherever we went. Each locality has its way and means of imbibing its favorite drinks. In Lugano, they drink wine from small bowls called boccalinos and their after dinner drink is a walnut liqeur Ratafia.
Today I’m writing about food, because last night’s dinner was a cooking disaster in the Holiday Inn we’re staying. I had eaten the same dish a week ago and they had it done to perfection. What happened? The dish was like leftover food dumped in salty gravy. When something is not to my liking, I always reminisce the good times.
Coming back to Europe, one thing different from the US is that Europeans do not drink tap water, except maybe in a couple of places in France. If one asks for water, one has to be ready to pay for it.
In other northern Swiss cities, the food is delicious in a local sense, but extremely pricey, especially if one ate all his meals in a restaurant. Upon the discovery of a supermarket type of store called Migros we were able to cut the cost down when we were in Bern and other major Swiss cities.
Talking about my favorite subject -food- again, in most places in Europe that we’ve been to, the evening meal is the slow meal. Waiters really take their time serving the customers because the idea is the last meal should be enjoyed. If the food is arriving too slowly, it is because the waiter waiting on you is a good one.
In my opinion the best food I ever ate was the Italian food in Lugano, more Italian food during another trip at the Amalfi Coast and Turkish food on the Bosphorus. Fourth place is a tie between France and Spain, Spain winning the friendly atmosphere contest, France winning on the variety and perfection of French cooking. Of course, I can’t put away the hearty German dishes and the excellent potato and onion omelet of the Swiss, Bavarian Beer and most local wines they brought us wherever we went. Each locality has its way and means of imbibing its favorite drinks. In Lugano, they drink wine from small bowls called boccalinos and their after dinner drink is a walnut liqeur Ratafia.
Today I’m writing about food, because last night’s dinner was a cooking disaster in the Holiday Inn we’re staying. I had eaten the same dish a week ago and they had it done to perfection. What happened? The dish was like leftover food dumped in salty gravy. When something is not to my liking, I always reminisce the good times.
Coming back to Europe, one thing different from the US is that Europeans do not drink tap water, except maybe in a couple of places in France. If one asks for water, one has to be ready to pay for it.
Coming back to Lugano, English is rarely spoken here, and if spoken, it is very difficult to understand. Something similar happens with my Italian. I can somewhat understand Italian if I apply force on my brain, but if I try to talk it, what comes out of my mouth turns into a distorted Spanish. Despite the language barrier, I met the nicest, warmest people here and if I dare study Italian again, it will be because of the people of Lugano and my wish to visit this fantastic town. Plus, one more time, I'd like to hear a sweet-voiced tenor's singing just for me.
Unless you’ve hit the lotto, it is better to be not too eager to shop on the cobbled Via Nassa in Lugano. Rolex, Gucci, Versace and many other too hot to touch stores are on this pedestrian-only street. Yet, it is great to walk up and down this street if only to dream Cinderella dreams.
Lugano is a great city to walk around in, for there are many things to see and experience. Besides the Via Nassa and the Swiss Banks, there are the lakeside promenade, narrow streets of the old town, St. Mary’s Church, parks, flowers, the sweet smells of oleander, lemon, and magnolia, museums although we usually skip them, outdoor cafes, lake breezes, and the strong cappucino that is served at almost any place. And of course, that divine food: polenta, ossobucco, pastas galore and my favorite crusty bread and formaggini, which is goat cheese topped with olive oil and coarse pepper.
Quite a few years have passed since I’ve been to Lugano but the memory stands shadowless, still delicately injecting its exquisite life into my life.
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