The title of this piece is deliberately misspelled because of a delightful scene several skiing friends of mine witnessed at the cable car exit ramp on the slopes of Murren, Switzerland. Out of the newly revamped cable car came a large cow, complete with bell and owner urging it on. Everyone's first thought at seeing this sight was, "Only in Switzerland." When I heard it I smiled with pleasure at this wonderful combination of high-tech Swiss expertise and a national respect for the agricultural roots this country possesses.
Two summers ago, when I spent some time hiking in and around the Alpine resort of Wengen (in the shadow of the Eiger and Jungfrau peaks), we noticed another remarkable scene foreign to our usual mountain experiences. We had hiked up some 2,000 feet beneath the Jungfrau and decided to hop a train for the last stretch going to Kliene Scheidegg. Getting on with us and then alighting at our stop were a cow and farm family. We followed them eventually toward their modest farm alongside the "pistes" of winter and, as always, enjoyed such a novelty: sharing a train with a cow. My friend John had commented that when the Swiss bring down their cows to winter in lower altitudes, the animals are often festooned with floral garlands, ribbons, huge bells, and even hats. I can't wait to return to Switzerland for such a seasonal event.
One of the pleasures of hiking Switzerland's "wanderwegs" is the proximity to the actual lives of farmers and villagers. One can walk on a well-marked path right by a home or field of goats and cows. Only remembering to close the gate as you pass is required. On one particular walk we got to a point where warnings were posted that the descent down to Grundewald was precipitous, so we sat at a table provided by a local farmer while we debated proceeding further. We were served fresh beverages and cheese from the cows in the stall just a few feet away. Carrying provisions is seldom necessary in the Alps because of the numerous cozy and welcoming small inns located even in the most remote locales.
John also tells of the time when he was approaching a slope high in the Swiss Alps and a family dressed in traditional peasant garb came up from the other side of the mountain. They were each bearing enormous alpenhorns and emerged on the rim looking exactly like they should be singing, "The hills are alive with the sound of music!"
A couple of other incidents confirm our evaluation of the love of Swiss traditional music in this country of masterfully engineered roads and tunnels, prestigious banks with numbered accounts and wealthy clients, and international sophistication reflected in its great cities.
On yet another gondola ride, the leader of a group of fellow ascenders asked my friend if he minded if they sang. With his permission, the members of the Zurich Glee Club burst into melodious tones. As this took place on one of the longest gondola rides in Switzerland (the Schifer Bahn), my friend was entertained for about 40 minutes with an extensive repertoire.
Last year, at the end of our stay in Wengen, we decided to try a small hotel in Wilderswil (near Interlaken) and booked three nights there before I returned to the States. The lovely Hotel Alpenblick, we discovered, had a kitchen run by one of the top chefs in Switzerland. During our stay we shared the hotel with a yodeling convention, so we were awakened and also fell asleep to yodeling lullabies by the enthusiastic performers. It was hard, under down comforters in a traditionally exquisite corner room whose windows looked out at the small village, not to feel very far removed from the angst of the modern world.
As a postscript to my musings, I imagined a cartoon (possibly only understood by Europeans) based on the cow alighting from the cable car. I have recently become hooked on sending in possible captions for the New Yorker contest each week, so I am thinking in captions. As a dear friend of mine just had a clever caption published, I am even further inspired. I can see the drawing ... the cow being led by a rope from the car, spectators looking on in the background, and a bubble atop his head reflecting his thoughts: "I really rather preferred the old T-Bar." Maybe only I find that image funny, or maybe I am beginning to think like the Swiss!
