Adventures on Swiss Trains

 
Saturday, June 25

Here are some scenes and impressions on our June 25, 2011, train from Innsbruck to Zurich, with a connection to Lausanne, Switzerland, before switching to a French train for our trip to Dijon-Ville and a short connection to Beaune, smack dab in France's Burgundy region.

Our wide, plush seats on these European international trains are as comfortable as easy chairs and can be adjusted to tilt back for a snooze.  But I can't miss the constant transformations outside of our picture window!  On any of our train travels during this vacation, I don't think that I slept even once, despite arising at ridiculously early times and enduring lengthy trips.  And there is no clickety-clack of train wheels over undulating rails, for the Europeans have slick seamless tracks over which the train wheels whoosh and fly.

We had an anxious wait for our first train at the Innsbruck station, because we had only a 12 minute changeover in Zurich.  I remember when the AAA travel agent in Florida arranged our reservations, we wondered how such a short time would work.  Then, when the notice on our platform said that our train would be 10 minutes late, we rushed inside the station to the information office and asked the attendant there what could we possibly do with only a 2 minute change time?  He smiled and said that it would be no problem.  We weren't convinced when he seemed so certain, thinking that he was simply dismissing us.  We looked at him closely and he repeated by saying "That is always how it is with Zurich."  He further said that when we are on the Zurich train, nearing the Zurich station, that the conductor would tell us the platform to go to for the next changeover -- so we wouldn't need to go inside the Zurich station to find out.  This would expedite our change.

Note monitors above train seats

Ok, so back to the platform and the anxious wait for the train to take us to Zurich.  When the electronic notice changed the late arrival to 14 minutes, we had to just give up worrying.  It appeared to be a done deal, since at this point there was nothing we could do, but hope that we could catch a later train leaving Zurich for our connection in Lausanne. When we finally boarded in Innsbruck for Zurich, we settled into our seats and watched the overhead monitor that reported train speed, location, and estimated arrival time.  And what marvels the Swiss!  Our engineer picked up tremendous speed, and even though at one point along our way he had to stop and back up on a side rail to drop off a coach, he put the pedal down and delivered us to Zurich on time!  And not only that, our reassuring conductor had taken our connection information to the engineer, and later informed us as to our platform for our change.  We still felt it necessary to grab our bags and rush off the Zurich train, and in my state of mind, I left a plastic bag with my travel guide and my favorite travel jacket.  Somebody throughout the remainder of our trip would say, "Gee, if we only had our travel guide, we'd have such and such information . . ."  Guess who that was?  He was enjoying it way too much.

Leaving the Alps

So, we sat in relieved comfort on the train to Lausanne, and I was able to once again enjoy our trip;  our train whisked us downhill and put its muscle to the task to climb up, up, up -- along the craggy Alps.  It's late June, yet snow clings to the topmost ridges;  while well below the pinnacles, small villages cling to their hillsides still way up high, always clustered near a tall-steepled church, and often, beside remnants of ancient towers and a fortress that at one time provided protection.  The mighty fortress, coupled with the steep terrain and the winter snows almost ensured that the enemy could never hope to overrun them, or at least to arrive unannounced.                                                                                

I look from the mountain villages downward to the verdant farm land, the pastures and rushing rivers dissecting the valley floor.  Often, dark turquoise clear lakes dominate, filling the valleys, and some seem to go on forever.  A few small sailboats, more than any other type of craft, play across their surface while brave homes and castles snug the water's edge, with the sheer, steep mountains crowding at their backs.  I try to imagine the quiet of the mountains and the lake, especially in the middle of winter.  In my mind, I can see and smell the smoke curling from the chimneys and hear the gentle calling of the cowbells.  And because I'm me, I can bring forth the wafting aromas from the kitchens, and taste the potato dumplings, the goat cheese, the tart brown mustard, fresh baked bread, and chilled dark amber beer (all this from my train window).

Looking once again toward the mountainside, I see narrow twisting roads, hidden most of the time by the evergreens or the dark mouth of tunnels;  and except for the train over here on our side of the lake, these are the connections made possible between the scattered villages and the rest of the world.  Of course, within the farmland, there are wide paths for walking, bicycling, and horseback riding.

Vineyards above Lake Lausanne

When I first saw Lake Lausanne from our upper-level coach, I could not believe my eyes!   From Zurich to Lausanne, the mountains have mellowed out and lead us to cities, and again to farms and hilltop homes;  we saw green undulating seas of grassy pastures and then the yards of homes, with the great mountains receding to pale backdrop vistas.  Our pictures taken from the train are ineffective at showing the lake's immensity and the beauty of the land, farms, vineyards, villages, and the city surrounding it.  We must only imagine the silent dance of the boats under full sail skimming in the glittering sunlight under a cloudless blue sky, with the Alps, formidable, but retreating.

Lake Lausanne, Switzerland--Alps further away
(the white specks are sailboats)