There is a song by Stiller Has called Aare, quite well-known and popular with Swiss public. It will ( although I am not a particularly enthusiastic fan of Stiller Has) accompany me today along the Aare. After all, it is almost ten kilometers that I will hike exclusively along this blue miracle.
The hiking guide also sees its positive sides:
Attractive hike along the Aare, first through the city area, then through one of the most beautiful river landscapes in Switzerland. The renatured banks are a particular benefit. Worb Castle can be seen from afar, but is not accessible.
Length 16 km; rise | descent 300 m | 240m; Hiking time 4 hours
Might be nice...
Bye bye Federal Capital
So I say goodbye to Bern, a little wistfully, because the mood and atmosphere in this old city is unique. I couldn't put it better than the hiking guide, I fully agree with the eulogies.
With its many fountains, alleys, historic towers and arcades, Bern exudes a unique medieval flair. Probably the most beautiful view over the Unesco old town, which is surrounded by the Aare River, is offered by the elevated rose garden above the Bärengraben or the platform of the 101-meter-high Münsterturm. The animal-rich hike to Worb also begins at the Bärengraben. The bear park offers the animal, which also adorns the town's coat of arms, a 6000 m2 outdoor enclosure.
The city remains behind in the rearview mirror, greeting me one last time with the church tower and the Bundeshaus. The picture merges with reality when I, admirer of beautiful pictures, take a look at the water and its surroundings, which must have looked exactly the same a hundred years ago.
This is what permanence looks like; you preserve what is good and beautiful, apply new things where they fit, and complete the picture, making it a total work of art. I read a lot out of these pictures, perhaps far too much to be able to really describe it.
Do images shape people? Or is it the other way around? How much does a city depict its inhabitants? Questions about questions that cannot be judged by reason.
A cathedral, a church tower, rows of houses like ramparts, here and there a pointed turret, a few trees shy and almost hidden, in front of them the water, the shore and the murmur of the city in the background.
This is Bern.
Ursina and the Bundeshaus
The Federal Palace with its supposedly massive dimensions, which are not so massive when you think of Paris and London and their palaces, beckons over. Politics are practiced here, sometimes well, sometimes astonishingly, often badly and backwards.
But that's politics, always a little too far away from everything that matters. The politicians act as they would matter, while the real things are happening in other places.
Be that as it may, I leave politics and turn to the beautiful things in life.
For example, the bear pit with the city's darling, the bear Ursina.
She casts a rather bored look at her many admirers gathered above the ditch. Same stupid faces every damn day, I sympathize with her.
The path now leads along the Dählhölzli Zoo, on the right the Aare, the beautiful blue Aare, on the left all kinds of animals in all shapes and colors of evolution.
It would be nice to have more time (the eternal unsolvable problem), to sit down on a bench and just watch the white birds (whose names I promptly forgot) preening their feathers or the young pigs digging in the dirt in search of food.
But I have to go on...
Joggers and other runners
It's Saturday, a wonderful warm morning, perfect for a jog along the Aare or just a walk without haste and hurry, just enjoying the day. If I lived here, I might be recognized in the throng of runners, perhaps not quite as fast, but full of the desire to move.
I can't help but stop every now and then, listening to the gurgling of the river, admiring the ever-changing hues of the water. Clouds in the sky, a contrast I don't really need, nice weather is announced, so what's the point?
And so I move forward, the backpack seems lighter than usual, an illusion caused by the feeling of complete relaxation? No matter, I say hello to the right, I say hello to the left, one nods to me, one answers with a friendly Grüessech (which cannot be translated literally, but means Good Morning in Bernese German; it is like many other things in this region a welcome companion, one feels oddly welcomed).
The old wooden bridges are, as always, a feast for the eyes, but not just that. They represent something special, a display of local craftsmanship, quality that lasts, that does not have to be replaced after a short time, like many modern achievements.
These logs are firmly anchored, they show age, cracks lengthwise and crosswise, but they remain steadfast, resisting the assaults of age.
I take my hat off.
The wooden-covered Auguet bridge was built in 1836 and was located in Hunziken until 1974. Since the bridge there for the Rubigen - Belp connection was replaced with a concrete bridge, the bridge was used as a connection between Muri and Belp. And so the former Hunziken bridge became the popular Auguet bridge.
Sometimes I'm suddenly alone, quite unexpectedly, in the middle of the forest, but not for long, then the next jogger appears, or a young woman with a stroller, I venture a look at the baby's rosy face and get an astonished look back.
The mother nods to me proudly, she has every reason to be.
Aare, it was nice with you
But at some point the path branches off from the river, I give it one last look, which should signify, it was nice with you, but I have to go on, always on, the feet strive forward of their own accord, a habit that has arisen automatically. That's good.
The new scenery has just as much to offer. Sometimes a lonely tree, wrapped in soft white clouds, as if they wanted to embrace him, just him alone, nothing else, just grass and blue sky and clouds. How does he feel, so alone and yet so embraced?
An unwelcome detour
The old saying (is it one?) that you don't get smarter with age (but wiser, who knows), comes true again in an unwelcome way. The area is full of hiking trails, crossing each other everywhere and thus leading to orientation mistakes every now and then.
And so it is today, no wonder.
The signpost guiding me along a long cornfield doesn't look like mine, but without thinking and without consulting the map or Google Maps, I just follow it. It's simply the way it is - a lot of dumb decisions don't get really dumb until you realize they are. Before that, they are what just happens to me. Something cheerful, beautiful, because the surroundings are dreamlike, not too hot, a blue laughing sky that probably looks forward to when I realize my mistake.
Which is what happens, after almost five additional kilometers and the nice farmer people laughing out loud when I ask them for directions.
Everything else remains unsaid.
But then, the houses are pretty (a genuine Bernese farmhouse, almost like from the catalog), the sky wide and almost blue, the clouds as always not quite as gloomy as they look. In the end, I must say, the detour was worth the effort (or am I trying to make something better than it is?).
I'm thankful for the last few kilometers through the forest, he greets me with a stone face (or rather a wooden one).
And indeed - performance-wise (as if I care) not an epochal day. Plus 5 kilometers and almost 3 hours. But it was worth it, the twenty kilometers have been something of the most beautiful, I hiked so far. Oh yes, the beautiful blue Aare ...
Back in India again
The proximity of Worb announces itself early. I reach the village a little above on a hill leading down past a farm. Cows moo at me, I moo back, I can hear sounds and cries and children's voices, something is going on.
Doesn't interest me, I look for the inn Löwen, am little surprised that it looks once again closed, until a very Indian-looking young man (who turns out to be a Tamil from Sri Lanka) welcomes me warmly and leads me through winding corridors to my room. After all, it is equipped with everything one likes to have after a long hike, but whether I find the way through the maze to the outside again, is another question.
The dinner in the garden restaurant (excellent Tagliatelle) is relaxed and once again very very happy ...
Matching song: Massive Attack—Safe from Harm
And here the trail continues ... to Ranflüh
