"Different?"
"Well, you've never really done a travelog before. It's kind of like something you'd write for Trip Advisor. You're posts are usually more, well, personal."
"But I tried to avoid the 'what I did on my summer vacation' thing..." I whined.
She had a point. It still turned out like a travelog. So let's try for a more "personal" version of our trip to Europe's real Disneyland.
So where did the dread in those dreams come from? After all, we were traveling to Switzerland via Amsterdam with lovely Grace and her parents, and with Jansen, Everly and their parents on the return. In both directions, we listened for evidence of distress, but heard none. And when we went back to check, the parents looked a little fatigued, but all was quite calm. No, the anticipated vexation came from other parts of the plane. Parents bouncing crying or screaming children in their laps, or in their arms in the isles. You just had to feel for them. I almost felt guilty, because it didn't bother me. It was someone else's grandchild. Mine were proving to be typical Reyers travelers (the sample size is a little small, but we'll go with that...)
What I didn't think about much before leaving was how busy things would be. I don't do well with crowds, or lines, or confined spaces. Fortunately, the security lines in Minneapolis and in Switzerland were a breeze. But the trains and planes were packed, restaurants full, shops bustling. The travel and hospitality industries must be doing well.
An interesting observation could be found in the diversity of tourists. I've always had this theory that the globalization of the last couple of decades has been more effective in distributing wealth than any social or government sponsored redistribution ever could. The evidence seemed to be all around us. While visiting the Trommelbach Falls, I spent some time speaking with an Indian (as in India) gentlemen.
"So where are you from," he asked, inviting the conversation as he watched his son play in the garden.
"The U.S.," I replied, "Minnesota, do you know where that is?"
"Oh, sure, I'm from Washington, D.C.. We've been there for almost twenty years," he said, as if explaining why he still had a strong Indian sing-song to his speech.
"Really, what do you do there?" My questions are not that original, kind of like out of some Dale Carnegie book.
"I own a liquor store. We always close the store and take two weeks off each year to join our friends for travel."
"How many of you are there," I asked, not seeing a supporting crew in the vicinity?
"We have two buses back there, so about eighty of us."
"Wow, where are all the others?"
"They're making lunch. We bring all our own food. We're vegetarians, you know, and its hard to find a vegetarian meal in some of these countries."
"All of you are from the U.S.?"
"No, no - most are from India. It's a way for us to stay in touch with our homeland," he explained.
"Do you travel often?"
"We do this every year, this group. Last year we were in Hawaii. This year we started in the U.K., and are traveling through Europe on our way to Italy. It takes us about 9 days."
"Wow, that's a lot of territory in nine days." I suggested.
"Yes, we sometimes sleep on the bus. Cheaper that way."
By then, he was called to dinner by his family. As I looked on the other side of the building, I saw them all picnicking around their buses, which were two among a dozen or more.
They were not alone. We saw large groups from lots of different countries. Of course there were the Koreans and the Japanese, but more Koreans. Chinese could be heard around every corner in the train stations. Eastern Europeans traveled in small families and frequented the restaurants, not a low cost endeavor in Switzerland. None of them came from the elites (elites don't travel in buses). All seemed to be of middle or upper middle class. Since it wasn't that long ago that the average daily wage in these countries was measured in single digits, it was good to see them explore the world using discretionary income.
We were always on the go, Mariah made sure of that. She seemed to be taking over from Bonnie as tour director, much to Bonnie's glee. She had done the research, and knew at any point in time where she wanted to go and what she wanted to see. The fun part was that we did much of that together as a family - all eleven of us. That made for some interesting boardings. Especially in the popular Grindelwald and Interlaken areas, where trains were usually full with transient tourists going both ways. Especially when we boarded with luggage and strollers. We'd jam the isles and doorways with bags and people. Then, looking down the isles, you could see folks in their seats strategically positioning their own belongings in empty seats to discourage the descent of the Americans into their space. As the train jerked in its departure, we'd bob and weave, trying to find places for our things, including small children. "Excuse me," "sorry," "Oops, hi, how do you do, sorry for dropping in like that."
On the inside-the-mountain tunnel trains to Jungfraujoch, the Dad's were relegated to the luggage compartment of the narrow and short cog train cars. The conductors didn't mind, because they were too distracted with the cute kids that sat with their mommy's in the seats adjacent. Those cute kids became a bit confused when the train stopped and we all got out to look through the window outlook onto the ice fields for two minutes, and then filed back into the train for the rest of the voyage. It became a bit of a challenge when we reached the top as the kids reacted to the strange sensation of high altitudes (about 13,000 feet). Even some of the adults were a bit cross-eyed.
What sets Swiss trains apart are their frequent use of rack and pinion railways. We know them as cogwheel trains, making it possible to climb grades greater than 7 to 10%, the maximum for friction-based rail. These trains use a cog wheel or pinions from the locomotive to drive against a toothed rack rail anchored between the running rails. They were invented in the U.K. and used in the U.S. before being employed in Switzerland. What makes the Swiss application unique is the speed at which they can travel, serving not just mountain climbing applications, but also regular rail applications when climbing over longer distances. The train slows as they engage their cog, but then regain normal speed as they cruise through mountain passes. Other than the low hum, you can't tell when they're working.
As the week progressed, the little kids were trained to anticipate a playground somewhere along the way. A reward for putting up with the confinement. They seemed to be everywhere. More likely it was the result of good planning on Mariah's part. Even in some of the trains there was a car that had a play area in the upper level where they could slide and play with other kids. It still amazes me how kids that do not speak the same language find ways to communicate to facilitate play.
The most amazing and engaging playgrounds were up in the mountains. They're not the kind of mass manufactured variety found in modern-day town parks, but rather the kind made individually and locally, from wood and rope. The swings were the most popular, but other features were predominately interactive, requiring balance or upper body strength. The kids weren't the only ones having fun. But the real differentiator was the background. Unbelievable vistas were the backdrop that kids and adults would see over the tops of their feet as they swung or slid or climbed.
Another unique feature of Switzerland are the remote restaurants. It's not uncommon to be walking along a trail up in the mountains, seemingly far from anywhere, when all of a sudden a small restaurant appears at the intersection of two trails. One trail could be wide enough for a vehicle, I suppose. And usually there IS one car parked adjacent, but it's the owners car. The rest of the folks you may meet there are hikers like you. How can they make it work, you wonder? There can't be that many folks that happen to wonder on by? And the food is not fast or made by kids. It's first rate, served with real silverware and cloth napkins. Only the bill gives you a clue of how it may work. Like all things in Switzerland, it's not cheap. But it sure is good, especially in the middle of a long hike.
Some of the best times in our family union had nothing to do with Switzerland. They were had in the evenings at the chalet, when the kids and their families spent time together playing with lego's or cards, swimming in the pool, or sitting in the hot tub with a glass of wine (or other) at the end of a long and fulfilling day. It's a good life when your children can laugh and tell stories together (no matter how exaggerated the tales about their father and his foibles) late into the night, and have not a moment of friction over seven to ten days. Something one could not predict during those years when we were in that position of raising young children and growing our family. Perhaps it was facilitated, however, or at least enhanced by the backdrop of Eiger mountain and the Grindelwald valley. We will remember and cherish the experience forever.
What I didn't think about much before leaving was how busy things would be. I don't do well with crowds, or lines, or confined spaces. Fortunately, the security lines in Minneapolis and in Switzerland were a breeze. But the trains and planes were packed, restaurants full, shops bustling. The travel and hospitality industries must be doing well.
An interesting observation could be found in the diversity of tourists. I've always had this theory that the globalization of the last couple of decades has been more effective in distributing wealth than any social or government sponsored redistribution ever could. The evidence seemed to be all around us. While visiting the Trommelbach Falls, I spent some time speaking with an Indian (as in India) gentlemen.
"So where are you from," he asked, inviting the conversation as he watched his son play in the garden.
"The U.S.," I replied, "Minnesota, do you know where that is?"
"Oh, sure, I'm from Washington, D.C.. We've been there for almost twenty years," he said, as if explaining why he still had a strong Indian sing-song to his speech.
"Really, what do you do there?" My questions are not that original, kind of like out of some Dale Carnegie book.
"I own a liquor store. We always close the store and take two weeks off each year to join our friends for travel."
"How many of you are there," I asked, not seeing a supporting crew in the vicinity?
"We have two buses back there, so about eighty of us."
"Wow, where are all the others?"
"They're making lunch. We bring all our own food. We're vegetarians, you know, and its hard to find a vegetarian meal in some of these countries."
"All of you are from the U.S.?"
"No, no - most are from India. It's a way for us to stay in touch with our homeland," he explained.
"Do you travel often?"
"We do this every year, this group. Last year we were in Hawaii. This year we started in the U.K., and are traveling through Europe on our way to Italy. It takes us about 9 days."
"Wow, that's a lot of territory in nine days." I suggested.
"Yes, we sometimes sleep on the bus. Cheaper that way."
By then, he was called to dinner by his family. As I looked on the other side of the building, I saw them all picnicking around their buses, which were two among a dozen or more.
We were always on the go, Mariah made sure of that. She seemed to be taking over from Bonnie as tour director, much to Bonnie's glee. She had done the research, and knew at any point in time where she wanted to go and what she wanted to see. The fun part was that we did much of that together as a family - all eleven of us. That made for some interesting boardings. Especially in the popular Grindelwald and Interlaken areas, where trains were usually full with transient tourists going both ways. Especially when we boarded with luggage and strollers. We'd jam the isles and doorways with bags and people. Then, looking down the isles, you could see folks in their seats strategically positioning their own belongings in empty seats to discourage the descent of the Americans into their space. As the train jerked in its departure, we'd bob and weave, trying to find places for our things, including small children. "Excuse me," "sorry," "Oops, hi, how do you do, sorry for dropping in like that."
On the inside-the-mountain tunnel trains to Jungfraujoch, the Dad's were relegated to the luggage compartment of the narrow and short cog train cars. The conductors didn't mind, because they were too distracted with the cute kids that sat with their mommy's in the seats adjacent. Those cute kids became a bit confused when the train stopped and we all got out to look through the window outlook onto the ice fields for two minutes, and then filed back into the train for the rest of the voyage. It became a bit of a challenge when we reached the top as the kids reacted to the strange sensation of high altitudes (about 13,000 feet). Even some of the adults were a bit cross-eyed.What sets Swiss trains apart are their frequent use of rack and pinion railways. We know them as cogwheel trains, making it possible to climb grades greater than 7 to 10%, the maximum for friction-based rail. These trains use a cog wheel or pinions from the locomotive to drive against a toothed rack rail anchored between the running rails. They were invented in the U.K. and used in the U.S. before being employed in Switzerland. What makes the Swiss application unique is the speed at which they can travel, serving not just mountain climbing applications, but also regular rail applications when climbing over longer distances. The train slows as they engage their cog, but then regain normal speed as they cruise through mountain passes. Other than the low hum, you can't tell when they're working.
As the week progressed, the little kids were trained to anticipate a playground somewhere along the way. A reward for putting up with the confinement. They seemed to be everywhere. More likely it was the result of good planning on Mariah's part. Even in some of the trains there was a car that had a play area in the upper level where they could slide and play with other kids. It still amazes me how kids that do not speak the same language find ways to communicate to facilitate play.
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