Tag Archives: train

Feel the Bern

I spent the entire day walking around Bern. Roughly ten miles. The sky was overcast and murpy, with occasional light rain, but nothing that someone from western Washington can’t handle. Some people were carrying umbrellas, but that’s just a sign of weakness.

Bern — at least the central area where I was — is one of the most attractive cities I’ve seen. The city dates to 1191, but most of it was rebuilt in 1405 after it…wait for it…Berned down.

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I went on the walking tour described in the Rick Steves guide book, with detours for anything that looked interesting, then wandered around on my own after that.

I was going to take a tour of the parliament building, but they were all booked for the day, so I picked up a free booklet about the Swiss government. They had it in all four official Swiss languages, plus a few others for visitors, so I got one in English and one in Romansch.

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I visited the Bern Cathedral and paid five francs to go up the 210-foot-high tower.

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Then I walked down Gerechtigkeitgasse to the river and across to the bear pit, where the bears don’t live anymore. Several years ago, it occurred to someone that it was really sort of cruel to keep bears in a pit, so they moved them to a larger park setting next to the river. You can ride a funicular to go down to them.

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In fact, these are not the same bears, since the earlier pit bears died. These are newer, younger bears. They have names, but I don’t remember what they are, so let’s just call them Todd and Thelma. Here’s Todd looking appropriately ursine:

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And Todd and Thelma together:

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So the Bärengraben is now a Bärenpark, but the Bären should not be confused with Beeren, even though Bären have been known to eat Beeren.

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Anyway, the bears were cool, but ten minutes or so is probably your maximum bear-viewing time, so I went back across the river and up to Albert Einstein’s house. It’s not his house now, of course, and it wasn’t really then, because he just rented, but he lived there from 1903-1905 while he was working in the patent office and formulating the special theory of relativity. You can walk through it. Afterwards I had lunch downstairs at the Einstein Cafe (“relatively the best”).

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Just down the street from the Einstein Cafe I found this place.

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You can’t not go into a place like that, so I did.

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It’s the storefront for Voodoo Rhythm Records, a local independent record label for both current bands and obscure bands from the past. It kind of reminded me of Rhino Records, though somewhat weirder.

And of course there’s the famous Zytglogge-Turm, the clock tower, which was built in 1530. I walked by it numerous times over the course of the day, but never while it was doing its elaborate chime presentation at four minutes before every hour.

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I need to check out and get over there so I can see it before I get on the train to Luzern.

Farewell to Jungfrau

I left Mürren at around 10:00, taking the BLM train to Grütschalp, the cable car to Lauterbrunnen, and another train to Interlaken Ost. I had planned to take a Golden Pass train to Luzern, have lunch on the river, then take a train to Bern, but that seemed like a lot of extra time just for lunch, and it was already noon by the time I got to Interlaken, so I took the train straight to Bern.

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But then halfway to Bern I thought, why not go to Basel? The train goes all the way to Hamburg, so I could ride into Germany, but my Swiss Rail Pass only takes me to the border. Still, I can get off, walk across the border and look around, then take the train back to Bern. I can’t check in until 3:00 anyway.

As it happens, the train station is several miles from the border, but there’s a central tram stop in front of the station with trams that go all over the city. Two of the stops had “Grenze” in the name, so I picked the one that didn’t sound French and got on that tram. I didn’t have a ticket, and I don’t think local trams are covered by Swiss Rail, but I thought I’d see what happened.

The tram actually went across the Grenze and into Germany.

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I got off, then realized that it was just going to turn around and go back, so I got back on again and rode back to the train station.

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No one ever asked to see my ticket, nor did I see any machine that accepted tickets. But there were machines that sold tickets next to the trams. Weird.

Then I took the train to Bern, where I have the tiniest hotel room I have ever seen. Even the Japanese business hotels were bigger than this.

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The hotel itself is all faded elegance, with an ancient cage elevator.

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Now I’m drinking a complimentary Schneider Weisse in the hotel restaurant and planning the next day.

Into Deepest Switzerland

Driving to Switzerland took a little over an hour. They didn’t even stop me at the border. Leaving the rental car return, I had to walk along the street for about a quarter mile and through a parking lot to get to the airport, then through the airport to get to the train station.

I was planning to get lunch in downtown Geneva, but the train I got on happened to be going to Montreux, which is the end of the Golden Pass line, so I went all the way to Montreux. I had time before the next train to Interlaken, so I walked along the lake. I didn’t see the Freddie Mercury statue, though.

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The Golden Pass Classic is a set of refurbished older trains from 1914 and 1964. I mistakenly got on one of the first class cars, a fact the conductor discovered after I’d already settled in and there was no more room in second class. But I could pay to upgrade to first class. This required him to work through some elaborate calculation that involved talking to himself in both French and German, then concluding that I owed 12 francs. Thus for about $12.25 I have entered the ranks of the elite. Who knew that status could come so cheaply?

The train went through Gstaad, which, based entirely on The Return of the Pink Panther, I had always thought of as a ski town high up in the mountains. That’s sort of true. It is a ski town, and it’s generally in the Alps, but it’s surrounded by farmland. As a town, it didn’t look especially noteworthy, although I didn’t actually get off the train to look at it.

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Interlaken is a nice-looking town in a beautiful setting, but my hotel reservation was waiting for me halfway up the mountain. From Interlaken Ost station, I took another train to Lauterbrunnen, a cable car to Grütschalp, and a narrow-gauge train along the edge of nothingness to Mürren.

There are goats in Mürren.

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I’m staying at the creaky and atmospheric Hotel Blumental. Manuel from Fawlty Towers carried my bag to my room. Really, I swear it’s him.

I had dinner at Stägerstübli, where the owner generously accommodated my attempts at German. Horse steaks are on the menu, but I went with the chicken mit pfeffersauce.

Ascent to Aiguille du Midi

I awoke to clouds. Not a good sign. I took a shower and got dressed. Still cloudy. I checked the weather report. Supposedly it was sunny and would be all morning. Hmm.

I got a croissant and some “expresso” (as the menu said) and walked over to the tourist information office, but it was Sunday and they were closed.

Well, okay. My original plan was to go to the top of Aiguille du Midi, then descend to Plan de l’Aiguille and hike to the Mer de Glace glacier, spend some time there and take the train down. Then I decided I didn’t want to do a 2.5-hour hike in my Nike Frees, so I would do the mountain and the glacier separately with a multipass. If the mountain was clouded over, I would just do the glacier.

I walked to the cable car station to find out if it was going to clear up and decide which ticket to buy. I asked the lady at the ticket counter if it was going to clear up. This was obviously a very stupid question as it was clearly sunny right now, as anyone could see by looking at the webcam. Oh. So I asked for a multipass so I could take the train to the glacier. But the glacier is closed, she said. It’s closed? Stupid question #2. It’s closed for the season, as everyone knows. Thus my options all converged on a single point, and I bought a ticket to the summit of Aiguille du Midi.

Which was spectacular. I didn’t see anyone doing ballet on the side of the mountain, but the view was amazing. 12,600 feet is the highest I’ve been on the ground. The best part of Aiguille du Midi is that you actually take an elevator to the summit. I think that mountains like Everest and Kilimanjaro would be much improved by such an approach.

There were views.

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And more views.

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And a clear platform that was smaller than I thought it would be.

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The view from the restroom was just as good, and I could stand in front of the heater.

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I met a Filipino couple and we exchanged picture-taking services. (That’s Mont Blanc behind me.)

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The last platform I visited was up a long flight of stairs. I took the stairs two at a time, like I usually do. This was a bad idea at 12,000 feet. I had to stop about two-thirds of the way up and gasp for a while. When I got to the top, there was…a display on hypoxia. Clearly someone’s idea of a joke.

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While I was recovering, I read about what happens to your body at high altitudes. There was a little gizmo that you could stick your finger in to determine your heart rate and blood oxygen level. I had a little smiley face next to mine, so all was well.

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On the way down in the cable car, the people next to me pointed out a donkey on the side of the mountain below. I wasn’t fast enough to get a photo, but I’m sure it was Al.

For the rest of the day I just walked around Chamonix talking pictures, buying shirts (nice ones), eating, etc. Dinner was tapas and Irish coffee at a British restaurant and bar overlooking the river Arve.

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Tomorrow: Geneva and beyond.

See also: Chamonix and Mont Blanc.

Butterflies and Condiment Confiscation

Singapore airport has a butterfly garden. No apparent reason; it’s just there. It’s a nice one, though. I would even go so far as to say that it’s the nicest airport-based butterfly garden that I have ever seen.

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But things took a dark turn when I went through security and they spotted the kaya spread that I had bought as a gift. It was larger than the allowable size, and thus had to be confiscated, presumably to eliminate the threat of explosives made from spreadable condiments.

I’m now in the Taipei airport with five hours to kill. I was going to take the train into the city and go to the night market, but that would require filling out an entry form and going through customs and passport control in both directions and then security again, and all of that sounds like much more trouble than it’s worth. I’d rather just sit here in the food court.

Clarke Quay

After dinner I went wandering along the River Walk toward Clarke Quay.

Clarke Quay is a more upscale and touristy area than Boat Quay, which is where I had dinner.

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There’s some bungy ride, but after four beers, I figured that was contraindicated.

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I got some coconut ice cream and wandered around for a while, then went back to the hotel.

Walking Tour

Yesterday I went on a walking tour. This was run by an American who lives in Singapore part of the year. At least half the people on the tour were Australian and were really gregarious and…well…Australian. Do all Australians know each other or do they just act that way?

Actual quote from an Australian person while drinking a Tiger beer at lunch: “Either there’s no actual alcohol in this or I’m still drunk from last night.”

The tour started with breakfast at The Toast Box. Singaporeans seem to have a fondness for toast, which seems like just about the least interesting food item one could have a fondness for. Companies like Toast Box, Toast Fun, and Ya Kun Kaya Toast have built businesses around this. The secret is the kaya spread, which makes the toast much sweeter than it would otherwise be. You eat it with extremely runny soft-boiled eggs (which you basically drink) and Singapore-style coffee or tea.

Actual quote from an Australian person at a 7-11 in the train station: “Where’s the fecking beeah?”

The high point of the tour was monkeys — specifically, long-tailed macaques in the rain forest.

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Afterward, I went back to my room and took a nap. The Australians all went out for beer.

Arrival

I arrived in Singapore at noon on Monday, got a quick lunch at Heavenly Wang, which is a real name that I am absolutely not making up, then got some Singapore dollars and a metro card and took the train into town.

After walking for about a mile in the wrong direction, I found the hotel and checked in, then went wandering. I wandered through Little India, then up to a truly Byzantine mall called IOS Orchard, then somewhere else, I think. I’m not really sure where i was. I was able to sleep fairly well on the plane, since i had a row of four seats to myself and was able to make a bed out of them, but I guess i was more tired than I thought I was. Anyway, I eventually made it back to the hotel without incident.

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From Central I took the MTR to Lantau Island, where I was immediately bombarded with advertising for Ngong Ping 360 and all the wonders they make available. Sky-Land-Sea Adventure! Guided tours! Culture and heritage! Local delicacy!

I opted for a round-trip cable car ride across the mountains to the Buddha statue. I spent an extra US$11 for the Crystal Cabin, which has a glass floor. The ratio of standard cabins to crystal is 2-1, but the line for the standard looked about ten times as long. Plus you get to look down. Well worth it.

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Some of the other cars looked a little spartan.

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The ride is about 3.5 miles and takes 25 minutes.

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Eventually you see Mr. Buddha off in the distance.

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The cable car deposits you at Ngong Ping 360’s photo center, where you have the opportunity to buy the photo they took of you when you departed. Then you exit through the gift shop into the Ngong Ping Village, which is a long avenue of shops and restaurants that leads to the temple. It’s basically a shopping center that’s made to look like a village. Kind of like Disneyland’s Main Street USA, but with a Chinese flavor. And Starbucks. With Christmas decorations. And numerous displays that feature a cartoon Koala who is somehow associated with the Korean company Lotte. There was also a display of cable car cabins from around the world.

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It was at this point that my camera battery died.

I skipped the temple and walked up the loooong (and really crowded) stairway to the statue. The statue itself is the largest outdoor seated bronze Buddha statue in the world (presumably he would be taller if he stood up), and was made by China Aerospace Science and Technology, although I don’t know what prompted them to do so. The statue has three levels, but you have to pay to go to the top one, which I didn’t. I was allowed to visit the gift shop, though.

The view from the top is nice, and worth the climb, but there isn’t much of a reason for a non-Buddhist with a dead camera battery to stick around, so I went back down to the village and got a mediocre donar kebob at Ebenezer’s Kebabs and Pizzeria. Then I took the cable car back and missed another opprtunity to buy a photo of myself.

Once through the gift shop, the Ngong Ping people are done with you, and you go down an escalator to the street below, where you have to negotiate your way through through traffic to get back to the train station.

When I got back to the room, I fell asleep until nearly 4:00. No time to go up on Victoria Peak, so I took a harbor cruise. It was relaxing and the engines worked the whole time.