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Ali- I’ve been on 3 cruises in my life and each time I remember friends and family asking me the same thing. “Why would you choose to spend 7 days in a floating hotel with a bunch of senior citizens?” Now if you are in an older age group, then I apologize for the narrow-mindedness of the young and uninitiated. What they don’t know and we have figured out is that a cruise is the 99 percent’s best way to experience the luxury living of the 1%ers. There’s no cleaning and no cooking. Polite foreigners serve you with a huge smile (I had a lovely Filipino woman retuck my shirt into my skirt after I got out of the bathroom stall like my own personal ladies’ maid). Non-stop activities are organized for you every minute of every day. And attractive young pool boys bring you martinis in the whirlpool. What is not to like here???

Hence why we found ourselves on a 7 day cruise to Alaska with our good friends, the Pohls. Mary Pohl is the mother of one of Maya’s school chums and she is an unparalleled organizer of vacations. That apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Her father, Gil, began planning this cruise over a year ago. My wedding was planned in far less time with far less effort and way fewer informational emails. We were fortunate enough or insightful enough to say HELL YES! when Mary asked us in August of 2018 if we wanted to join 40 of her family and friends on this Pohl extravaganza in August of 2019. We even had matching shirts!!!So we arrived in Vancouver on Tuesday the 13th of August and set about experiencing all the city had to offer, getting a jump start on our cruise fun-binging. Vancouver is a fairly awesome town with a giant park – Stanley Park – next to downtown, amazing Asian food and lots of water and outdoor adventures.

As soon as we arrived, we took the delightful public transportation from the airport (a feature ALL major cities should have), we checked into our stupidly cheap airBnB downtown and then headed for the seaplane port. By 7 pm PST we were on a seaplane flying over the Pacific Ocean and the mountains around Vancouver. It was my first seaplane experience and I have to say it was awesome. In fact apparently one can take a seaplane between major port cities like Seattle and Vancouver for a fairly reasonable price instead of driving, busing or training like the Plebes.

The next day I forced Maya and Joe to do the Grouse Grind with me. This hike is billed as a stair master on steroids. It’s over 2800 steps that ascend to the top of Grouse mountain. There is a free shuttle from Canada Place in downtown Vancouver and when/if you reach the top, there are restaurants, wildlife shows, lumberjack shows, bears in captivity, zip lines, etc. The first picture below is Joe and Maya reaching the top only 30 minutes after I did (I’m only judging a little bit).

We also enjoyed the Brewery and Gelato scene in Vancouver along with the biking culture.Fast forward to Friday, we arrived at 10:30 am to board our Millennium Celebrity Cruise ship. The process is a bit like boarding an airplane. One checks in, deposits luggage at the bag check, passes through security and then finally you are allowed on the boat and handed champagne. Wait. You mean you don’t normally get champagne when you board an airplane??…. Yea. See? That’s what I’m saying about a cruise.

So when you first get on you can’t get into your cabin because the very hardworking non-American crew is working super hard to clean the rooms after the last batch of dirty probably mostly American guests departed. So we spent several hours getting to know the Pohls, who were all conveniently wearing matching cruise shirts. We also broke the seal on our cruise drink packages, which are a must on any cruise. Trust me on this.

The first day out of port was a cruising day, which is an excellent opportunity to get an overpriced massage (which I did), hit the gym to get a jump on burning off all the overeating you are about to do (which I did) and start honing your ping pong game (which I did). The next day, however, we reached Ketchikan. At every port there are copious opportunities for excursions off the boat. These cost extra money and there is an active debate among cruise attendees as to whether to book these things through the cruise or not. In my experience booking through the cruise line isn’t that much more expensive and guarantees that they won’t leave your butt when you return late.

Despite being told repeatedly that we were insane, Maya, Joe and I went snorkeling! I had never been snorkeling in Alaska and I am a bit of a water loving adventure seeker so it is probably not surprising that I would choose this event over eating caviar on a heated boat while watching for whales. But Maya was also into it and so Joe was outvoted.

It was very cool. Errr cold. At least I was cold. Joe and Maya were fine. The water temperature was a balmy 64 degrees F, which is quite reasonable and we had 7 mm wetsuits so this should actually be a pretty tame experience. However I have an unusually small head and the hood didn’t really prevent 64 degree water from sloshing over my skull. So after an hour I was the color of glacier ice. Luckily we were introduced to the Alaskan hot tub, which is when you poor hot water into your 7mm wetsuit and it pools inside, feeling a bit like you and all your friends peed in your pants. It was all worth it for the giant sea cucumbers, huge sea urchins, rockfish and sea stars. Plus on the way back we got dropped off in the Ketchikan red light district, by creek street where the salmon swim upstream to spawn. Which all prompted this very entertaining sign and brothel.

The other thing to do in Ketchikan – the salmon capital – is order Salmon to be shipped to your door. Which I did. 10 pounds of it.

The next day we arrived in Icy Point Straight, which isn’t a town so much as an adventure center with the worlds largest zip line. It used to be the highest but someone else stole that honor apparently. It’s still a 6 lane mile long 90 second ride. But first!!!!

Our planned excursion in Icy Straight Point was heli-biking. This is where you and a mountain bike are hauled up to the top of a mountain in a helicopter and you bike down. Possibly one of the coolest things one can do in Alaska. Because helicopters are always awesome. Mountain biking in the Alaskan wilderness is also awesome. And not having to peddle uphill is the most awesome (also consistent with the lifestyle of an over-pampered cruiser) .

Joe also thought this was an insane thing to do but his reasoning this time was because it was obscenely expensive. I decided my credit card would eventually forgive me and I wasn’t going to let a little thing like bankruptcy and financial ruin keep me from experiencing life like the filthy rich. Of course as soon as the shuttle dropped us back off at the adventure center, Joe marched over to the giant zip-line counter and shelled out another $300 for us all to go zip lining. Soooo who’s the family financial genius now??? While this was approximately $1 per person per second of fun given the 90 second ride time, I can honestly say it was worth every overpriced minute. We got off that thing all giggling like school girls and probably would have shelled out another $300 if the bus ride up to the launch pad wasn’t 45 minutes long and vomit inducing.

The next day we arrived early in Juneau. Mary had booked us on an all day private glacier hiking tour. There were 7 of us that met with out guides Whisper (real given name, not a trail name believe it or not) and Daniel (who the tour manager kept calling Danielle to his everlasting embarrassment). The hike was about 4 miles on a trail to the foot of the Mendenhall Glacier, passing along the way the markers for where the glacier used to reach at various points in the past. The first marker in fact was for 1910, and had we set out on this hike then, we would have reached the glacier at the same time we reached the trail head bathrooms in the parking lot.

Along the trail we learned a lot about the local fauna and our guides. Daniel is a professional hiking guide, traveling all over the US leading hikes and occasionally snowboard instructing. Whisper is a semi-professional ice climber and botanist. Both of them get to hike to and climb on a glacier daily. Which made me re-evaluate my life choices. I am paying Whisper and Daniel a large sum of money to hike to the glacier. Whisper and Daniel are getting paid to hike to the glacier. You see the difference here, right? Now granted, Whisper currently lives in an SUV and all of her worldly possessions fit into an egg crate. But there are some days at work where I think that is far from a deal breaker.

After the hike, Mary, Brian, Joe and I hit one of the Juneau breweries while the others headed to shower on board (which clearly expresses our differences in priorities). Joe and I topped off our beer with fish tacos from Deck-hand Dave’s, a local fish taco stand. The salmon fish tacos were amazing and made me even more excited for my delivery of 10 pounds of Alaskan salmon to my door in Baltimore.

The next day we reached Scagway, a town of something like 800 people that regularly hosts up to 3 cruise ships that pour 8000 tourists into the town. I had not 1, not 2 but 3 grants due before the end of the month so I stayed on board sipping cappuccinos at the ship coffee bar and working. So I have nothing to report about the town. But I heard the breweries were good and there is a wickedly cool multi-day hike that can be done around to the local peaks.

The last stop on the cruise was Glacier bay and the famous Hubbard glacier. Only 2 cruise ships are allowed in the bay per day so you really want to make sure this is on your itinerary should you get your snobby nose out of the air and decide to go on an Alaskan cruise with us old folk. It came into view around 7:30 am as I hopped on the treadmill at the front of the ship. So I literally got to run towards a glacier. Very inspiring I must say. My pictures can’t possibly do justice to the sight of an immense wall of ice and the thunderous crack of the glacier calving into the sea. Sorry.

After Hubbard we hauled ass for the rest of the day to our final port- Seward, Alaska. This was really the only time during the whole trip where we had large waves and a good amount of boat rocking. At dinner there were a couple folk who had to abandon their dinner table and head to their cabins before they vomited on the beef Wellington.

Friday August 23, we woke up early to the smell of smoke. I was wondering what jackass was smoking near the air intake when the word was passed around that there were some 600 fires burning around Seward and Anchorage. We packed up and left our luxurious ship after over-eating one last time at the breakfast buffet, and headed into a very hazy Seward. A nice lady from Seward helicopter tours and Turning Heads Kennel picked us up from the cruise terminal and took us to our final ridiculously expensive tour. We hopped into another helicopter and flew up to a Iditarod dog sledding training camp on top of the Godwin glacier. The Iditarod race is a 1000 mile dog sledding race from Anchorage to Nome. And the dogs who run this thing want only one thing in life. To run. One dog named Banf (after the ski resort) couldn’t contain himself, leaping up and around, whining and sounding like hot pokers were being applied to his nether regions until the sled brakes were released and he could finally pull a bunch of lazy-ass tourists in a sled.

I cant express how much fun this was. We each got to mush the sled and pet the dogs and watch them poop while running, which is an amazing skill. Then we got to hold puppies… puppies! We all smelled like a kennel afterwards to the delight of first, our helicopter pilot who is used to it and second, our fellow passengers on our 4 hour bus ride to Anchorage. But did we care? No! We were so full of dog sled love that we even filled out a form to adopt a retired sled dog. So you might be seeing us mush to and from the grocery in Baltimore. Who knows?? Ready Alright! (Which means move your ass in dog sledese)

Ali – It’s hard to believe but a year has gone by. It’s July 31, 2017 at 6:30 am and I’m in the Zurich Flughafen waiting for my flight home. You may be surprised to hear I am taking Condor Air, which was the disasterous seasonal airline we flew when we moved to Switzerland that stranded us in  Frankfurt. I am, naturally, headed first to Frankfurt so we’ll see how that all works. Maybe I won’t be leaving Europe after all! 

This past weekend I got my Swiss life all packed up, saying goodbye to a few friends and crying in a few more large Swiss beers. I also did one last trip to the Flussbad, and I will miss its hepatitis-free water. However, I have already been in touch with my city and state representatives to ask them to clean up the Baltimore/Maryland waterways. So who knows what hepatitis-light Flussbads may be in my future along the Jones Falls. 

In my last couple days I got in two last Swiss experiences. First some friends took me to Bauschnäzli, an artificial island that was an old Zurich fortification from the 1600s that is now a restaurant where you can go listen to live music and watch elderly Swiss people dance (note: those are Maya’s friends, Lil and Sarah, dancing and not Swiss old people).I was looking for an opportunity to use the rest of my Lunch Checks, which I call my Swiss food stamps. They are a work benefit that gets you half off restaurant and prepared food. But before you get jealous, may I point out that restaurant food is about twice as expensive here so I’m only paying what you would pay in the states. I think our beer plus fries bill came to 130 CHF.  

The second treat was a very very very Swiss restaurant that my Greek Swiss friend, Alexia, and her dad took me to out by Pfäffikon (so out of the multicultural Zürich city center). I didn’t take pictures, which is a shame (lots of cowbell), but I ate the local Swiss dish: horse. Yup. The Swiss farm and eat horse, which for Americans I think may seem like eating the family dog. The matron of the establishment came out to make sure it was cooked to my liking – not that I had any clue what she asked because of the heavy Swiss German being thrown at me. In Swiss German es ist gut?  becomes something like eschguet? I just smiled and nodded at whatever she said, like a good foreigner. Anyway it really was indistinguishable from medium rare beef in taste and is prized for its leanness – its true, you rarely see obese horses. 

Well that’s about it for me. I’ve had my airport capuchino and last butter gipfeli. I’ve been told I should at least keep up the blog until I get back to regular life in the US, so I can document my culture shock as a returning American. Then we will see what the future brings to the Swiss Family Abraham. 

Good bye Switzerland. It’s been fun. 

Ali- With the health care ….eeerrrrr…midnight benefits roulette game… roaring in the US, I thought I would take a couple minutes to share how the Swiss do health care. Some may be surprised to hear that Switzerland doesn’t have a single payer system like most of Europe. Instead they opted for what is essentially Obamacare (but they did it first – Swiss health care law passed in 1996). In fact, this New York Times article pointed to Switzerland during the 2009 health care debate as a potential model for the US.

First, there is a big fat individual mandate. Now Americans can’t stand the idea of someone telling them what to buy but the Swiss seem to be well onboard with the fact that the only way to have a stable health care care system with controlled rates is to have healthy low risk people paying in to support sicker high risk people. Proof is in the pudding here: according to Wikipedia, in 2010 the Swiss spent 11.4% of GDP on healthcare while the Americans trying to tame their Wild West insurance market spent 17.6%. 

 And they are REALLY serious about the individual mandate.  When we got here, I brought with me all sorts of letters from Johns Hopkins Employees Health Care saying that the Abrahams were covered for overseas care. I was determined to get out of this extra burden on our budget, particularly since we were 1) already covered and 2) anticipated not using any health care while here because frankly I figured gynecological exams or teeth cleanings were not going to be more enjoyable in Swiss German. 

So note that when you arrive in Switzerland they give you 90 days to get your health care butt in gear. We spent a good portion of that submitting paperwork under the assumption that, once the Swiss knew we were already insured in the US, they would let us out of obligatorische krankenversicherung, i.e. obligatory health insurance. Well we fought the law….and the law won. As of 2014 they shut down almost all loopholes; basically only poor visiting students are exempt. Switzerland 1, Abrahams 0. So Joe dutifully went to the insurance marketplace called Comparis and shopped for a bare bones policy. 

Ok a little more about how Swisscare works. First, rates for policies can’t be based on any personal characteristics like age or health status. They are just a function of the benefits, health care model you choose, and the deductible you pick. Second there is a fixed maximum out of pocket amount that an insurance can make you pay, which is the deductible + 700 CHF.  Third, there is a set list of stuff that has to be covered including a whole rainbow of basic services. You can find this information all in English or 3 other languages on the Comparis site. 

For plans, you can choose one of four different health care models: standard free choice plan where you can see any doctor you want, a family doctor plan where you have one primary doctor who triages you, an HMO which locks you into a network and a telemedicine model where you start all care with a phone call. The later three options will lower your monthly premiums. 

So for our purposes, Joe got us a 2500 CHF deductible telemedicine plan, for a total cost for all Abrahams of 578 CHF per month. Now by arguing the point we had managed to secure a stay of execution for another 2 months, so we had to sign up by the end of December 2016. 

Now what happens if you don’t sign up you ask??? Weeeellllll purely to satisfy your curiosity, we neglected to sign up until February, at which point we received a very polite letter in English telling us that we owed a fat penalty of around 600 CHF in total, but we managed to talk them down to about half that after mailing in our extensive collection of letters to and from the Zurich Gesundheitsdirektion. 

So we have paid into the Swisscare system now about a total of 3000 CHF, and used Swiss health care 0 times. You’d think I’d be bitter about it but I’m really not. In the end we could afford to subsidize some poor sick Swiss person or imigrant. And while we didn’t use health care here, we certainly used a fantastic public school system and beautiful clean rivers to swim in and well managed transit, etc etc, all of which someone else subsidized for us because we paid very little by way of Swiss taxes. 

And that’s how public services have to work. Everyone pays in and some use more and some use less but it all eventually goes around because eventually the subsidizers get sick and become the subsidized. 

Last note about Swisscare. You also get a pretty awesome health card with a chip that can hold, if you want, all you health care info, which sure beats carrying around a fat folder full of medical records. 

Ali – Last weekend I was really reaching the end of my opportunities for checking off the remaining items on my bucket list. I still hadn’t managed to make it to a Via Ferrata route, and I was sure that would be the culmination of a full and satisfying year long Swiss experience.  The problem was this: most folk I knew had already said something to the effect of ‘hell no!’ when I mentioned it. However, on Friday I was invited to join Laurel, Martin, Sophia and Lil on a gratwanderweg by Schwyz – gratwanderweg being both the literal German term for a ridge hike and the figurative German term for navigating between two extremes – and I figured this was my chance to make my case for the via ferrata. 

On the way up to the hike start, however, I found out that via ferrata was not the only Swiss experience that I had missed. Imagine my surprise when I learned I had somehow missed hearing about Schwingen, which is a kind of Swiss sumo wrestling where two guys try to wedgie each other out of a ring. The best Swiss wedgie giver is called the Schwingerkönig or Wedgie king. But alas my time grows short and I had to focus on something more achievable than Swiss wedgies.

So one gets to the start to this ridge hike using a 78% grade funicular, which is a pretty amazing engineering feat, and then a gondola to the top. 

Now I have to say that ridge walks are pretty cool. Ridge walks in the Alps are down right amazing. The hike was only 2.5 hours including a stop for lunch but probably one of the most scenic I’ve done. Martin pointed out a place by the Vierwaldstättersee (fancy German name for Lake Lucerne) that one could see from the hike (meadow of the Rütli), which was supposedly the birthplace of Switzerland: in the 13th century, the cantons of Uri, Schwyz, and Unterwalden united to form the Swiss Confederacy. 

Of course along the way there were also the ever present tranquil alpenfauna-munching cows, lovely alpen flowers and (my personal favorite) requisite beer at the end. We took gondolas back down at the end and I got to hear Lil and Sophia sing all of the songs they learned in Swiss public school. I can say now that songs about blowing your nose and tying your shoes sound much cooler in German. Everyone was in high spirits and game for a little via ferrata on Saturday ….mission accomplished. 

Saturday the weather was looking good and I had a reservation for 6 via ferrata harnesses in Braunwald, where Manuela, Sarah, Laurel, Sophia, Lil and I were going to attempt the kids via ferrata while Rick and Martin drank beer and did fallen body retrieval duty.  Anxiety was high but I was proud of my little team of acrophobics, who were bravely giving this a try so I could fulfill my Swiss dream (which was really now to see Swiss wedgie wrestling, but via ferrata was still number 2).

We arrived on yet another funicular to yet another gondola and found our way to the Gumen berggasthaus for harness pickup. The harness guy was surprisingly nonchalant about our obvious complete ignorance of via ferrata. He suited us up and gave Manuela – our best Swiss dialect speaker – a run down on the route. I ended up giving the safety lesson on hooking in, which I derived entirely from my 2-3 times going to the kletterwald (i.e. Ropes course)… by which I mean to say that I had zero clue what we were supposed to do. Then we tromped up the hill, bushwacking our way to the start. I ended up leading with Lil behind me, which meant that the two non-acrophobics were in front with little ability to calm the panic that was happening down the line. However, except for one notable panic attack and an early exit by our rearguard, Laurel, I have to say it was an impressive showing. Though over beers and Rivella all but Lil said they would rather have hot pokers in their eyes than ever do it again. 

As we made our way back down the mountain we took in the awesome view and then stopped for a coffee to counter the sleepy beer effect. 

Here I found out about the second Swiss thing I had somehow missed out on: Helene Fischer! She is apparently a well know Schlager singer – a term I had to look up in Wikipedia: “Schlager music (German: [ˈʃlaːɡɐ], “hits”)[1] is a style of popular music which is generally a catchy instrumental accompaniment to vocal pieces of pop music with easy to understand, happy-go-lucky and often sentimental lyrics”. Ok so technically she’s considered a German artist but Rick (a physical therapy expert who used to work with Cirque de Soleil) just got hired to go on tour with her and keep her acrobats healthy and I got the impression that the Swiss are pretty big fans. Anyway I’m still holding out for Helene Fischer Schlager tickets to show up in the mail from Rick and a small part in the acrobatics show would be nice too. I don’t think that’s too much to ask. As Helene Fischer says: Atemlos durch die nacht. I’m holding my breath Rick…all night. 

Ali- Last Saturday our Baltimore buddies, Lorie and Jackie, arrived in Zurich, having found a budget round trip airfare that required a drive to Philly, a plane flight to Laguardia, a Supershuttle ride to JFK and then a 1 hour wait on the tarmac all before their red eye to Zurich. We met them at the airport and you can see they were clearly excited to be out of the flying tin can major-artery blood-clot free.

Sunday. Lorie told us they had come to hike so Sunday we trekked up our local mountain, Uetliberg, heading for the tea hütte to have lunch. Our original plan was to do Via Ferrata  in Braunwald, which means iron road in Italian and is an interesting mix of climbing and hiking. But alas, it was raining and hanging off a mountain side in the peeing rain sounded like a less good idea. Plus Lorie and Jackie got to experience the joy of hiking to beer, one of my favorite Swiss activities (Note to Child Protective Services: that is my beer and not Maya’s…. she went with the hot chocolate with schnapps)

Monday. On Monday, after taking Maya and Joe to the airport, I sent Lorie and Jackie on the Golden Circle, a scenic touristy day trip we did last summer to Pilatus. This trip involves a train to a boat to a cog train (steepest in the world!) to a gondola, to a train. That evening I was told the highlight was the cog train (steepest in the world!) but otherwise, this was too much riding and not enough hiking and too many damn tourists! Check. Good to know.

Tuesday. So for Tuesday I sent them on one of my favorite hikes: Seealpsee. The plan was for them to hike up and take the gondola down but of course, things went array (plan C anyone??) with a missed turnoff. Despite that they had a fantastic time and declared it a really hard but perfect hike.  The highlights were the scenery and the cows, who were easily wooed by Lorie into a little roadside smooching. Jackie was very understanding and decided it was ok to open up their marriage to cows but goats were out of the question. 

Wednesday. On Wednesday I played hookie (thank goodness no one from work reads my blog!!) and we hooked up with the American Women’s Club for a guided hike. Our experienced hiker guide, Tory, was taking us on the Seven peaks hike or in German: Sieben Gipfel Wanderweg. Imagine my disappointment when I found out this didn’t refer to buttergipfels, the delicious croissant like Swiss pastries, eaten during a leisurely stroll, and instead we were actually hauling ourselves up 7 bloody hills. Well after a late start at 9:45 am from Zurich hauptbahnhof and a lovely gondola ride up from Unterterzin, we made it to the beginning of the hike at a quarter to noon. The hike time was billed as 5 hours and 30 minutes. The last gondola down was at 6pm. No one did the math. Instead, our group of 7 intrepid American women (Superhero names: Puissant Patti, Locked and loaded Laurel, the Torynator, Stormy Stacy,  Jackie Onasty,  Lorie Lovesalot and Ali-xander the Great) started hiking, immediately disturbing the mountain peace. There is no argument: American women are ridiculously loud. I can say this as a particularly loud American woman. Hikers far ahead of us would nervously look back as they heard us coming and would hike on with renewed purpose. 

Peak 1 was a tease, but peak 2 was serious business. We decided to stop for lunch to gather strength, convincing ourselves that large doses of “hiking chocolate” would make the next peak ascent seem ok.Damn hiking chocolate didn’t work and peak 3 was devastating.We all crawled the last few feet to peak 4 and engaged in a little selfie blitz to leave last precious moments for our loved ones in case we died ascending peak 5. Here Jackie and Lorie are trying to get a feel for what it’s like to look down from heaven, which is a big assumption about their ultimate destination given the whole cow love thing.

We hiked on distracting ourselves from an increasing awareness of how screwed we were by enjoying the amazing mountain flora (check out the tiny truffula tree from Dr Seuss’s  Lorax) and scenery. Morale took a dive when the trail headed down through an impressive rock slide, which was navigated mostly on butt. At last we reached a sign that said we still had several hours to go and it was nearing 5 pm. We could no longer stay in denial; we were not making that gondola. The decision was made to skip the last several peaks and instead head down the mountain, making the 1700 meter descent by foot. Now the hike became more of a forced march that took us along foot wide paths hanging to the side of the hillsand steep rocky paths.

As in all good epic tales, there was even a panicked flight for our lives, when a herd of cows started chasing us along a road.

At last, as the sun began to set we made our way into town, passing a beautiful waterfall that we all claimed made it worth the 4 hour descent on foot (this was a huge lie, which wouldn’t even have been true had the waterfall been made of beer or gold).

The entire hike ended up taking 9 hours, which is a personal record for me for a day hike. My step counter claimed 42000 steps and 14.6 miles. Lorie and Jackie had 16 and 18 miles respectively, which I found to be a shocking degree of measurement error. So who knows how far we went but my consumption of ibuprofen and subsequent muscle soreness told me it was a f!$%!ing long way.

Thursday. You are probably not surprised to hear that Thursday was a day of rest for loud American women. I went to work and then joined Lorie and Jackie at one of the local Flussbads for their first float down the Limmat. We then headed up the hill to the forest and they had their second Swiss cultural experience of the day: grilling würstli over an open fire. You’ll be happy to know Lorie still has all 10 fingers after using a Swiss Army knife to prepare our würtli sticks.

Friday. All of us had been told that Gruyère was the place to go and I had not yet made it there during our year. So Friday morning we boarded a train for the 2.5 hour trip. The things on our to do list included the cheese factory, the Giger Alien museum and the Gruyère Chateau. After getting our bearings we hiked up the hill from the train station to the cute medieval town (I realize originally cute went with medieval the way fun went with torture but I think this is the modern description of any small tourist town with cobblestone steets) of Gruyère. Our first stop was the HR Giger Museum, which holds the collected works of HR Giger, the artist responsible for the Alien movies. We weren’t allowed to take photos inside (the photos above are all from us embarrassing ourselves in front of the museum and in the gift shop) but you’ll have to take my word for it: Giger appeared to be a guy who watched only sci-fi movies and porn as a young man. Across the street from the museum is the Giger cafe where you can get ridiculously overpriced ‘Alien coffee’ ….which is just coffee. 

Next we headed to the cheese factory to see cheese made. This was less exciting as the cheese making process takes months and mostly involves watching cheese mold on a shelf. So all we saw was a vat of milk being stirred. But we did get a Gruyère cheese sampler pack and learned some great fun facts, like the fact that the US is the second biggest consumer of Gruyère cheese behind Switzerland. 

After that we headed to the Gruyère Chateau, where we watched the most bizzare informational video I have ever seen and then toured the 1200 odd year old castle. We all had different favorite sites here but I think the random severed human hand had to win the prize for ‘best exhibit dug out of the castle cellar’. I also appreciated the sundial which never saw the sun.  

Well no trip to Gruyère would be complete without consuming cheese products. So we found a nice little restaurant and practiced our bad French while challenging our lactase production. We then waddled back to the train and complained of our cheese bloat for the 2.5 hour ride home.

Saturday. I had big plans for Saturday. I still had paragliding on my Swiss bucket list and Lorie was foolish enough to agree to go with me. Jackie, being generally smarter than us, decided to be the official videographer at the landing spot. While one can foolishly jump off any mountain in Switzerland strapped to a parachute, I chose Interlaken, which is home to Jungfrau and the longest paragliding season in Switzerland. I randomly chose a tour company off the My Switzerland website – because why would you want to research that and check reviews?? – and paid 340 CHF for two of us. 

The tour company picked us up at the Interlaken train station and drove us and some very nice Canadians up 1000 meters to a spot overlooking the two lakes that give the area it’s name. There was a 10 minute informational spiel and then we drew straws for who got which instructor. I was hoping for a really hot guy to be strapped to for my tandem paragliding journey, though I was slightly concerned that I would pee on him. I ended up with a local Swiss guide named Kusi, who was less beef cake but pretty funny and highly capable, probably preferable personal characteristics in a paragliding guide. At the top, we all got geared up and final instructions. Basically the idea is that you run like hell down a hill pulling your instructor and the parachute until you both trip and roll down the hill or (this is the preferable option) you get enough lift to take off. Here is Lorie about ready to go all teathered into Miki, the guide from Tokyo.

I decided not to opt for the full video and photo package so there are no pics of me in the air but here is one of Lorie so you can see how the tandem system is basically a giant baby Björn. 

In summary the experience was not terrifying at all and I didn’t pee on Kusi or vomit on him, which he politely asked me to warn him of if it was imminent. In short I loved it and may have to invest in Paragliding school at some point. 

Jackie met us at the bottoms and got this video of our landing. I’m the first yellow parachute landing and Lorie is the last yellow and red chute coming down. 

After an exciting morning we did a leisurely hike through Lauterbrunnen in Interlaken, traipsing past a number of waterfalls before hoping on the train for home. You can tell the week has been an exciting one for the loud American women.

Ali- It’s 7 am Monday the 3rd of July and I’m heading home from the airport, having just said goodbye to Maya and Joe. For them, the one year Swiss adventure is over. I think it’s safe to say that we all are feeling varying degrees of sadness ranging from deep melancholy to mild depression. We have spent the last couple weeks saying goodbye to friends and it has been emotionally draining. We have also oscillated between tragically listing all the things we will miss- ridiculously punctual and expansive train system, clean rivers and lakes that you can swim in, fantastic expat community, cultural and language immersion, etc etc – to tempered cheerfulness at what we are excited to return to – friends and family, ……errrr …… friends and family….. hmmmm…..did I mention the friends and family??? It may be that a year abroad is not enough for one to really get to know the downsides of a country and culture, and thus our feelings may be chalked up to never getting past the honeymoon period. But I don’t think that’s entirely it having listened to a lot of American ex-pats tell us how little they miss from the US. So while the American politicians continue to proclaim America the greatest country on earth, I’m not feeling it right now. I wonder if it might do America a bit of good to be more humble and look around the world at what those less exceptional countries are doing. Because right now I’m thinking of taking Emmanuel Macron up on his offer of a new homeland for disenchanted American scientists.

Here are a couple pics from Maya and Joe’s last weekend: Canada day celebration (Canada is 150!!), sunset dinner and playing on Lake Zurich, and hiking to lunch at a teehütte in the mountains.

Ali- Uncle Eddie, Aunt Beth and Cousin Jack came to visit us on Friday. Kinder people would have given them a day to get over the jet lag but we decided to drag them on Saturday to Zermatt because…well…it wasn’t really about them. We still hadn’t made it to Zermatt and they were our excuse to finally go. 

Saturday morning we cruelly dragged them out of bed, poured coffee into them to counter the benedryl/melatonin hangover and herded them to the Hauptbahnhof to make our 8am train. Then we sat on our butts for 3.5 hours until we reached Zermatt. Our vague plan was based on a random website click where an activity called ‘dirt scootering‘ was offered. You can check it out here to see why I was intrigued. 

When we arrived, Joe marched us through the cute and carless (that’s right! Only solar-charged electric cars allowed in the streets!!) town of Zermatt to our hotel– the Jagerhof – where we dropped bags and then headed to the Matterhorn glacier paradise valley station, which was supposedly where we ‘collect’ these magical dirt scooters. But first, hunger won out over dirt scooter excitement (never face danger on an empty stomach!….or without first having a beer…) and we plunked down at a restaurant terrace with the Matterhorn staring us in the face. I mention this stop only because Joe had an unfortunate spastic arm gesticulation here, which occurred right as the waitress was bringing all our beers. I didn’t capture the destruction in a photo but it was an impressive display of Swiss reserve, as the beer drenched server refrained from telling the loud American spaz where he could shove his beer. Joe, on the other hand, got to practice grovelling in German, which could come in handy again at some point. 

We overpaid our bill and slunk out of the restaurant to the dirt scooter rental place where we grabbed 5 scooters on steroids (Aunt Beth opted to hike….something about liking her current front teeth alignment). We took our dirt scooters over to the cable car station and the staff loaded them in and sent us up to the base of the Matterhorn. 

Once at the top we paused to take in the scenery and get some family photos at the base of the Toblerone Mountain- would you believe it’s not made of chocolate???? Then, with a bit of trepidation, we launched our high-center-of-gravity scooters down the mountain biking trail.  For those who aren’t mountain bikers, there is a reason why mountain bikes come with shocks. Our dirt scooters didn’t come with shocks. We came with varying degrees of knee joint health and attempted to absorb the jolts as we launched over rocks in the path. There was also the very real possibility of locking up the breaks and over-ending, to be followed by high speed sliding down the trail with the scooter riding you. 

After about an hour of harrowing rocky trail, we took a break at a mountain stübli for refreshments and cow watching- the primary local entertainment. At last we rolled back into the rental place and congratulated ourselves on survival. We celebrated with beer and ice cream and more Matterhorn viewing.Then we checked into our hotel and you are never going to guess what we did. Yea! Shirtless Matterhorn viewing from the balcony!Along with the 83 photos of the Matterhorn, we did also take a few photos of ourselves…..with the Matterhorn in the background of course.

Well all good accident insurance- requiring activities must come to an end and the next morning we said goodbye to Zermatt. I had gotten a tip that Jodlerfest – the annual celebration of yodeling, alpenhorning and all other highly Swiss activities – was nearby in Brig. Our Swiss friend, Manuela, grew up in Valais and still had a hundred Swiss cousins in the area and was going to meet us there.

It was clear something unique was going on from the train ride to Brig. While it’s not totally unheard of to see some traditional flavor on the train, large numbers of folk on the train were uber-Swissed out and getting their drink on. 

Once in Brig we wandered around following the sounds of yodeling. What we learned is that yodeling is a skill born of hard training and alcohol. The yodeling clubs would huddle in circles while singing, the close configuration helping to support those too drunk to stand by themselves. ​​​

I was on a quest for alpenhorn, as it’s about the coolest sound I have ever heard ….well aside from the sweet sweet sound of my husband saying,”You’re right dear!” Manuela led us to a nice beer stand next to a traditional clothing vendor and two alpenhorns parked at a tree. While Joe and Maya invested in Swiss traditional farmer shirts, Manuela sweet talked the alpenhorners …errr….alpenhorn blowhards? alpentooters?….. in the local dialect and got them to put on a private concert for us. ​​

After that our alpen lives were complete. We headed to the train, passing by the parade which featured Swiss flag throwing and men with chainsaws cutting wood on floats. But even the Swiss climber ascending a fake mountain mounted on a tractor couldn’t beat the alpenhorns.

Ali– ok. I know we’ve gotten in a rut here. So feel free to skip over this one. I just feel the need to provide information for the one poor soul who chooses our blog as a source for information on Swiss adventures and to satisfy my obsessive compulsive disorder, which requires that I record all events during our year. 

So I’ll be brief. Last weekend we wanted to get in yet another hike. Joe and Maya were at T minus 2 weeks until they headed back to the US and thus it is Swiss-experiences-binge-time for us. Our friends from the Bellinzona post were actually willing to hike with us again as long as I swore that it would be flat and short. So I went to my favorite Momstotszurich blog and found the Küsnacht Ravine Walk, which was advertised as stroller friendly and was only a half hour away on the train. The best thing about this 2 hour hike was that it ended with a ferry ride on lake Zurich. Now I could tell you about the wheat fields, dragon cave, wurst grilling or beer drinking on the ferry but I think I’ll just let the pictures tell the story. Here they are: 

We also visited friends in Zug that weekend and I got this fantastic shot of Maya jumping into the Badi, which I might as well include for full documentation purposes. Now that wasn’t so bad was it?