The ancient Greeks had two expressions for time: Chronos for the exact equal succession of units of equal length, while Kairos refers to the fortunate moment, the favor of the hour, the feeling of being in the right place at the right time, of having met the right people (thank you Tagesanzeiger Magazin).
In summary, Kairos measures the importance of the moment, not its duration.
It's no surprise that Kairos is a lot closer to me than Chronos. Every step on the trail has its own meaning of the moment. In every moment I'm in the right place at the right time, and sometimes, albeit rarely, I meet the right people.
You can't expect more.
And this is exactly how it is supposed to continue, always focused on the grace of the hour.
For once, the travel guide completely agrees with me:
From the shore path on Lake Sarnen up the steep climb to the pilgrimage site of Flüeli-Ranft, where the Hermit Niklaus von Flüe worked in seclusion in a gorge as a man of God, visionary, admonisher and counselor. The house where he was born is one of the oldest wooden houses in Switzerland.
Length 10 km; rise | descent 340 m | 100m; Hiking time 2 hours
Almost a day of rest, just right after yesterday's efforts.
Postcard Switzerland
Yesterday's stage of over eight hours has left its mark. After all, I've already been on the road for over two weeks, hardly ever less than 6 hours each day, so something like mental fatigue might set in.
But this day seems willing to recharge my batteries. The weather is ideal, not too hot, a blue and white striped sky provides the appropriate decor.
That might be just the thing for a couple of South Korean celebrities to promote the attractiveness of Switzerland (just think of "Crash Landing on You", that South Korean hit series partly filmed in Switzerland, which led to such an increase in tourists that additional postbus trips had to be organized).
The trail leads for a while along the Melchaa, a small gentle brook surrounded by wild bushes and trees bending into the path every few meters. Before it spills into the Sarnersee, it says goodbye to me, I follow the trail along a marshy area until I finally reach the lake.
How can I put it right, a postcard Switzerland starts here, almost an overabundance of beauty. The lake shines in the delicate light of the morning, surrounded by hills and forests and mountains, on the shore a village, scattered houses, almost timid.
And above it all the scenery of the sky. The beauty is making you sleepy, it's almost too much.
For a change, the trail is easy, as it is mostly on flat paths along the lake.
Purple flowers stick their heads through the mesh fence, greeting the passing hiker, beautiful. Every now and then, the houses on the shore stay behind, making room for neatly mowed meadows, trees strangely smelling of autumn, reeds in the shore water.
It makes you want to slow down your step, to become an eternal wanderer with nothing else on his mind but celebrating the beauty of the world.
Fast trains, slow paddlers
From time to time, a train passes by at lightning speed, hardly any time to pull out the camera. The gust of air blows around my face, just for a moment, Doppler effect, you'd have to be Sheldon Cooper to imitate it realistically.
There are some school topics I neglected because of lack of talent and interest, but physics is on the top of the list. At least I can remember the Doppler effect, but as I said, more because of the Big Bang Theory.
The lake lies quietly in the light, hardly a wave disturbing its surface. The plants (algae? water lilies?) on the lake provide an additional color component, a unique biotope full of life. A collage of inanimate and animate world.
But then the peaceful silence is disturbed, rhythmic paddling is approaching, two boats, a man, a woman, paddling by with powerful movements of their upper arms, I hear almost nothing, just a soft gasp, the sound of the paddles gliding into the water and giving thrust to the boat.
Upwards to the pious people
A garden restaurant, full of people chatting happily, chestnut trees providing shade with spreading branches, a coffee, a comfortable chair, that's all it takes to raise the mood to further heights that morning.
I am just sitting there, for once completely by myself, which I miss so much. Everything is right, everything in balance, I would like to freeze this moment. Hold on to it for all eternity.
But the moment is lost, time, which has just condensed into a single moment, comes back to life, everything has to go on, on and on, on and on ...
But the ascent rewards me with a tunnel of trees and bushes, one thinks being inside the belly of a whale. Strange thin trees on both sides of the path obscure the view of the sun, a strange area, irritating and inviting at the same time.
Brother Klaus – the Swiss Patron Saint
Pyramids of clouds greet me on arrival in Flühli-Ranft, matching my image of this strangely pious place. Perhaps they recognize my doubts, my lack of piety.
A tiny village, a few houses, hotels of course, a central square with a kiosk offering all sorts of sacred junk, nothing more.
Were it not for a chapel in a nearby ravine, it is the very center of this village. Without Bruder Klaus a forgotten hamlet in the mountains, like countless others.
But let's see what there is to discover. Without any cynicism.
Flüeli-Ranft belongs to the municipality of Sachseln and is located at 728 m. It is the home of Niklaus von Flüe, the hermit Bruder Klaus, who also made a name for himself as a politician, mystic and visionary. He lived in the hamlet as a hermit between 1467 and 87, and many pilgrims still travel here. On the stage until shortly before Stans, information boards introduce hikers to his work and life.
Niklaus von Flüe , Nikolaus von der Flühe or Bruder Klaus (* 1417 in Flüeli, Obwalden; † March 21, 1487 in Ranft, ibid.) was an influential Swiss hermit, ascetic and mystic, previously a mountain farmer, politician, judge and soldier. He is considered the patron saint of Switzerland and was canonized in 1947. [wiki]
A steep path leads down into a kind of gorge (an alternative path is provided for wheelchair users), where the chapel and the former hermit's hermitage are located.
There's a lot that could be said about this strange saint, but I reserve my reservations, just this much:
It is hard to imagine how a white old man who left his family with ten children to retire to a hermitage in a shady ravine to spend his existence as a hermit might be judged today.
Well, maybe I'm doing him wrong, the huge number of pilgrims coming here every year definitely disagrees.
The pilgrims arrive
Anyway, the hotel, where I find shelter in time before the rain starts, seems to be quite empty. The elderly man at the reception greets me without a smile, without politeness, but at least he accompanies me to my room.
Sometime later, the TV turns out not to be working, and the grim look on the receptionist's face becomes even grimmer. "Probably some pious guests have unplugged the power cable and also turned off the wifi. After all, they might suffer some damage". Only now do I see the ironic face of the man. "They all want to live to be 120." We both laugh, the ice is definitely broken.
Dinner takes place in a large dining room. In the meantime the pilgrims have arrived, many from Germany, as you can hear.
I do not feel uncomfortable in the midst of these pious people, but it seems that I am the only one without pilgrim ambitions. People give me looks from time to time, not unpleasant, more in the way that they wonder how someone like me doesn't immediately fall to my knees in such a sacred place.
Anyway, the environment, probably packed with pious night prayers, prepares me a deep and undisturbed sleep. Well then ...
Matching song: Bon Jovi - Living on a Prayer
And here the trail continues ... to Stans
