HIKING
THE SWISS ALPS
by Andrew Mersmann
It was one of those iconic journeys, born
of reading adventure novels and watching educational television
as a boy. Hiking the Swiss Alps, like scuba diving at
the Great Barrier Reef, climbing Kilimanjaro, seeing Machu
Picchu, touring the Great Pyramids, and getting to Everest
Base Camp, was one of those trips I had long hoped to
scratch off my list. I’ve been lucky enough to do
some of them, still aspire to the rest, and in late June,
the cusp of Alpine hiking season, my partner Bob and I
were able to do this one, exploring the foothills and
craggy mountains in three regions of the Swiss range.
Before we hung up our hiking boots we would traipse through
the heights surrounding St. Moritz, Lugano, and Lucerne.
The website for Switzerland Tourism has
specific portals not only for gay and lesbian travelers,
but also for hikers. Their glossy brochures and internet
presence give more information and options than most
sites, and make planning easy. A popular way to experience
Alpine hiking is to go inn-to-inn or hut-to-hut while
your luggage is portered ahead for you. We chose to
stay in hotels for a couple of days each and took day
hikes, returning each night to hot showers, soft beds,
and good wine. Can you blame us?
At the top of a steep, endless field
of loose-scrabble, gray stones dotted by the occasional
remaining pillow of snow, we sit for a moment and extol
the unequaled virtues of a protein bar. It is the best
snack in the world at that moment, and begins a long-running
joke about how the world’s best this or that is
clearly something Swiss: best chocolate, best glass
of mediocre (but who cares, it hits the spot) wine,
best grilled fatty heart attack waiting to happen in
a sausage casing…
To look up from this vantage, lungs
heaving from the effort and thinner air, the sky is
baby blue while the lakes far below are obscured in
a dispiriting haze, as almost every day of our trip
will be enshrouded in summer fog, mercilessly killing
the postcard views.
The highest point of the trail is at
a tiny cabin/lunch hut where the cup of instant coffee
we buy, after the day’s effort, seems like the
best coffee ever, and we soak up the sun here above
the clouds and even have the strange sensation of looking
down on tiny hang gliders swooping lazily in the valley
below.
Slideshow
Oops!
It looks like you don't have flash player
installed. Click
here to go to Adobe download page.
|
The next day, our
feet aching, we forego the up and shin-bashing down of
the peaks, and spend several hours walking the relatively
level ground around a chain of local lakes. Elite athletes
do their summer training here, and there is no shortage
of ridiculously ripped specimens of physicality running
and biking past us on our “easy” day.
Our following destination, Lugano, is
pretty much exclusively Italian. Everyone speaks the
language, all signage and newspapers are in Italian,
and you can even see Italy’s border from the city.
There are two lakes, Lugano and Maggiorre, that straddle
the two countries’ borders. Switzerland governs
Lugano, Italy Maggiorre. The irregular, jagged shores
of Lake Lugano are fringed with palm trees and rolling
hills of grass, olive groves, and copious, showy flowers.
The town is completely oriented to the waterside, and
the lake is the beacon to always find our way back to
our fancy digs at the city’s five-star Hotel Splendide
Royal. This grand dame property dates from 1902 and
is the height of European elegance with gorgeous views
of the lake. Our room is in the non-descript “new”
building, acquired in 1983 and with all the attending
charm of that era, but here the rooms are larger, the
air conditioner blasts strongly, and the terrace is
huge compared to the old building’s Juliet balconies,
so we are delighted.
We arrived in town from St. Moritz via
the Post Bus/Palm Express, which disappoints me in concept,
never having loved bus travel, but turns out to be a
great way to see the countryside. We are in awe as we
travel through precipitous Alpine passes, cross into
Italy, and skim the edges of Lake Como while looking
for George Clooney. In town for only two days, we scope
out the columns and arcades of Via Nassa, Lugano’s
pedestrian-only shopping district; find crowded, two-story
gay bar D. Loft; and pore over maps for our next hike
up San Salvatore, the most conspicuous peak on the lake.
The San Salvatore hike begins with a
funicular to the top, from which we head out and across
dry, summery countryside then through blessedly shady
woods and small villages with tile roofs and bell towers
poking up from trees. It feels like a Greek island:
hot and dry with wheat-colored hillsides dotted with
olive trees, then suddenly, we round a bend and the
view opens to a huge body of water. We lunch and rest
at the grotto of the San Grato Botanical Park and moan
over brilliant espresso as black as a starless night—the
best in the world, again. A downhill trek to the lakefront
and a late afternoon return to Lugano by local boat
makes for a full day.
Continued
1
| 2
| 3
NEXT>>
|
