Alpine Panorama Trail – The Trail to the Castle

Actually, it's a miracle that no one yells "Get up" at six and you have to stand in front of the bed after half a minute.

But waking up in the 4-bed room, which is in fact remotely reminiscent of the army, is much more pleasant. Instead of the bellowing sergeant, Fridli murmurs softly "half past seven" and so the first day starts.

The Wöschhüsli (Bernese diminutive for washhouse), already mentioned yesterday, now serves as the breakfast room. And indeed, everything is ready, the coffee machine is in operation, juice, bread, butter, everything is there. We are enjoying it, while outdoors the day is getting ready.

The overcast sky, however, seems to indicate more of a disgruntled mood.

 

Of course we're late again

No wonder - the past twenty or more years have shown that we are always the last to leave and hardly ever get going before 09.00. Today is no exception, and after another walk to the station, there are still various shopping errands to be done.

So it takes another half hour until we finally start walking just before ten, our beloved panorama signposts guiding us.

 

The trail leads us via Schützenfahrbrügg across the Aare and then up the Belpberg.

The guidebook talks about a huge island in the middle of the landscape, yes, but as we will soon find out, it is rather a stupid unnecessary hill in the landscape, which should have been better put somewhere else.

 

 

Nothing special

Today's stage is of rather easy topology (apart from the Belpberg), but distance-wise quite a challenge for the two rookies. Unlike me, they do not have a few hundred kilometers behind, which might lead to some wheezing and cursing.

However, it might also be that I'm the one panting and cursing while the two freshmen are rushing up the hill.

And since an alternative route is also announced today, we have to be prepared for a few more kilometers. And as for the total time - I am reasonably sure that the actual marching time will be at best the same as the break time.

So if the specified time is 6 hours, the expected time might be at least 40-50% higher.

 

 

That wretched Belpberg

The Belpberg won't be one of my favorite hills after today. Shortly after the Aare a really tough slope begins (up to 23% ascent, as my heart rate monitor declares), and even worse, the slope has to be climbed again and again by stairs.

If there's one thing I can't stand, it's stairs on hiking trails. It's not the first time that I've encountered the darn things, but today they definitely took it up a notch.

Speaking of stairs: I am immediately reminded of the notorious Niesen stair race .

The Niesen staircase is the longest staircase in the world with 11 steps. The difference in altitude from start to finish on the summit platform is 1 meters. Strangely enough (but it's probably not so strange at all) participants from half the world register anyway.

Various films on Youtube show panting participants who seem to be on their last energy reserves, while the best runners are already sprinting easily towards the finish line.

Stairs, or rather climbing them, seems to have an insurmountable attraction for certain strange people.

So while I'm panting and slightly humiliated, hurrying after the top-fit youngsters, the two are far ahead. At least I can talk myself out of it with my old age, but that doesn't really soothe me.

One thing is certain though - the Niesen stair race is definitely not for me (and wouldn't have been 50 years ago).

 

 

The Bernese triumvirate

Admittedly, without stairs and with a sky that was slightly bluer than this barren gray, the Belpberg might indeed be a great island in the landscape. As soon as you reach the broad ridge of the hill, you realize the grandeur of the landscape. To the south, Eiger, Mönch and Jungfrau, Switzerland's favorite peaks, stretch their summits to the sky.

After all, the worst is now behind us at least for the moment, we take a breath, let our gaze wander over the yellow meadows, the mountains in the mist, the wheat fields swaying in the wind. Now the more positive part of today's route begins. At least I hope so. As we all know, hope dies last.

 

 

Old stories

When you've known each other for such a long time (a lifetime) and have experienced so many adventures together, those memories are the things that kill the time during the breaks or in the evening over a well-deserved beer. For all outsiders who were not with us, rather a dubious pleasure.

The narratives of course change, become funnier, more exciting, more interesting over the years than they actually were. But as we know, memory is a dubious thing, it obscures the view, something that was gray in reality becomes pink. But it doesn't matter at all, as long as we feel comfortable in those old unforgettable stories, everything is fine.

At our first break (not the last, as we realize later) they are already back in their old glory, and we laugh for the hundredth time about the same nonsense, the same old, eternally repeated episodes. They belong to us, they are a part of our collective history. And that's fine.

 

But then the journey continues, down the Belpberg on the other side - what goes up, must come down - and again along wheat fields and waterfalls (not exactly Niagara, but almost), and, who would have guessed, there are my beloved stairs again.

 

 

Panting bikers

As I said, breaks are a frequently recurring phenomenon; after all, we are no longer young and need variety.

And so, not much later, we are sitting again at lunch, a pretty rough slope in front of us. The path leads down vertically, so to speak, not even easy for pedestrians, let alone for bikers on the way up.

Therefore it means a special pleasure and distraction when now, of all times, when we have made ourselves comfortable on a bench, a lady with a mountain bike comes crawling up the steep slope, huffing and puffing. We can't suppress a mischievous grin.

"Pretty steep here, isn't it? ... We used to think that mountain bikes are driven and not pushed."

"Yes, pfff pfff, but pfff pfff not always pfff."

All's fine, the lady laughs, so do we, and that way all the annoyances of this world can be sorted out with a daft remark and a good-natured grin.

 

The day of long breaks

I'm almost a little ashamed to admit that while today's trip is also a bit about gorgeous meadows and hills and stupid stairs, it's actually mostly about breaks.

Passing several pretty hamlets, we finally reach the valley floor in the Gürbetal, take a deep breath after the successful crossing of the Belpberg and reach Toffen, a village that was completely unknown to us until now.

But it doesn't matter, the important thing is that there is a restaurant with a garden where we can finally take a well-deserved coffee break again. The assumption that the added up breaks may last longer than the total hiking time seems to slowly but surely become reality.

However, this is not the first time on our hikes. As a consequence, we are mostly the last to arrive at our destination in the evening. The other hikers are already at dinner, their grim and mocking looks speak for themselves.

But if it continues this way, we will arrive at our destination in Riggisberg at deep night.

With serious intentions to improve, we set out, hoping to resist any temptation. Until, in a small hamlet that seems quite deserted, a chapel shows up that seems to call out to us: "Come here, this is a wonderful place to take a break."

You can imagine the rest.

 

 

The Gasthof Sternen

Of course, it's not that we're not moving forward, just not as fast as we need to.

However, sometimes we progress swiftly, sometimes not, after all, there are often botanical questions to clarify, for example, whether my assertion that these plants in the field are rye. Thanks to Walti's app, we soon get to know, of course, it is not rye but just wheat. And I really thought I was an ace when it comes to recognizing grains. Another shattered conviction.

Well, as the clock shows, we've been on the road for quite a long time, "on the road" being a classic euphemism. But what the heck, we feel splendid, we could go on forever. Sometimes it is up, then down the mountain or hill, but the landscape retains its beauty, even if the overcast sky does not quite want to join in the presentation.

 

But then, quite unexpectedly, we reach a wonderful garden restaurant, and despite the advanced time, we allow ourselves a break once again.

The Gasthof Sternen seems to have a particular history. The owner, a migrant who landed in Switzerland some time ago, took over this inn and made it flourish. Today the restaurant is a tourist and hiking meeting point. The view of the surrounding landscapes provides us tired hikers with the last necessary push to make the last kilometers to Riggisberg.

 

And finally Riggisberg - and a castle

The way to Riggisberg seems to be endless, a hiking trail is no longer available, so we are forced to walk on the main road. At least it's going downhill, the first buildings appear, but the village is big and quite extensive.

There is even a hospital, a police station and numerous restaurants that will hopefully be open tonight for three tired hikers.

 

Of course, at the end of today's tour, we have to climb up to the castle - no surprise, of course - via a staircase. And then we're finally there, it's just a matter of finding the entrance to the right building.

However, in these digital times, access must be gained via code. Old castles are obviously much further advanced in terms of digitization than our healthcare system.

 

Anyway, we soon feel like little Lords of the castle, the room is huge, the bathroom as well.

About a faux pas on my part concerning showers the cloak of silence shall be laid. It is another episode that may be laughed about heartily on future hikes.

In any case, I can tell the readership that old age is making massive progress.

And indeed, we find in the village a garden restaurant providing everything the heart desires after such a day. Particularly a beer or two ...

 

 

Matching Song:   Tom Waits - All the World is Green

And here the trip continues ... to Guggisberg