Since my last post, we’ve visited the beer capital of the world, drank a liter at the Hofbrauhaus, saw a concentration camp, visited a fairy tale castle, and hiked the Swiss Alps.
The Bernese Alps are the kind of place where you wouldn’t be suprised if a deer talked to you, if a bird sang with you, or if you happened to pass Snow White on your way to dinner. This area is magical, to say the least. We are staying in the teeniest little village (population 130), where the mail is delivered by sled in the winter, golf cart in the summer. You can’t get here by car, but instead, by gondola, and you can buy souvenirs at the nearby “honesty shop,” taking what you want, and leaving the money in a box.
We’ve indugled in fine Alp cheese (which came from the cow next door), hiked through meadows, and ascended mountain tops. Today we visited what looked like Tolkien’s Rivendell, and even in the rain, the scenery we saw was breathtaking.
Switzerland is a dream land and we will be sad to leave. I could get used to waking up each morning to snowy white mountain tops with green meadows below. Views of the Eiger would never get old, and the tasty Swiss chocolate doesn’t hurt either.
Tomorrow we are off to the land of my ancestors, where we are in for two weeks of sunshine, homemade pasta, and tons of great wine. Until next time!