Trans Swiss Trail - In Gotthelf's Homeland

It's gonna be a long day.

Some event in Lützelflüh, perhaps a Gotthelf festival, has resulted in all the inns being fully booked on Sunday. The friendly lady in the chosen hotel refers me to another, which is also full. Well, so I end up tonight in a tiny village called Ranflüh a few kilometers south of Lützelflüh deep in the Emmental. That will be a good 25 kilometers. But what the heck ...

In any case, a long stage is awaiting me in cloudy and fairly cool weather, which will take me to the Emmental and thus to the heart of Gotthelf's homeland.

Above Worb, the terrain that is so typical of the Emmental begins with the long stretched «Eggen» (hills) and the steep «Chrächen» (ditches). Fantastic views of the Alps and Jura. The Gotthelf-Stube is located in the older part of the village of Lützelflüh.

Where is the castle?

Actually, there should be a castle located above Worb, but I couldn't discover it yesterday (too tired) neither this morning (ditto). Well then, it must be a castle like any other, privately owned and therefore not accessible, which massively affects the joy of discovery.

Worb's landmark is the castle, first mentioned around 1130, rebuilt after a fire in 1535. It is privately owned and located above the village.

This morning the air smells of autumn for the first time, it has indeed become a bit colder. This seems to affect my mental abilities (it doesn't take much, apparently), because I really do start without my poles. My God Landolt, if this keeps going on.

However, the trip continues just as usual, it might be boring if it was not so great again and again. Gentle hills lead in a northeasterly direction, which appears to be incomprehensible, since the general direction indicates south. The trail planner has probably allowed himself a joke. But who knows these guys.

I'm pretty much alone if there wasn't an equally lonely cow here or there, lazily devoting itself to the grass.

The view is magnificent, were it not for two ladies sitting on a bench behind me turning out to be permanent yakkers. Well, maybe that somehow belongs to the environment, so to speak, it provides an authentic view of the landscape with overtones.

Tarmac roads and Schwingfest

The sky, this unreliable guy, covers itself even more with dark clouds, I'm a little disappointed, but after all the beautiful days that is allowed. And something else gets on my nerves: of course, the route follows the specified trails, but today very often on paved roads.

But I have no choice, so I march like an obedient soldier, forgetting everything unpleasant and devoting myself to the fantastic view of the meadows and hills, the scattered farms with the typical roofs.

However, the mind is not focused on this Sunday, because the thoughts keep wandering to the big event of this day, the Eidgenössisches Schwing- und Älplerfest.

It takes place just once every four years, then the strong men of the country gather and try to win the crown. The winner is declared the King of Wrestling, an honor that only the best and strongest can claim.

But I'm in exile, so to speak, and at best I can check the intermediate status on my cell phone every few hours, but since my secret favorite Giger Samuel has nothing to do with the title, the euphoria is pretty much reduced anyway. Such a shame...

But let's see, the final round usually takes place after 17.00, which gives me the chance to watch the event on TV at the hotel. Whether I will arrive before 17.00 o'clock in Ranflüh, however, is a different matter.

Emmental and Gotthelf

Continuing in the direction of Lüüseberg, it is worth looking back at the beautiful alpine panorama every now and then. After a little more than an hour, Aetzrüti follows. Here you cross more small hills, short forest sections and beautiful fields and meadows blending harmoniously into the landscape.

The Emmental, which I will soon reach, and Jeremiah Gotthelf, one of the most famous Swiss novelists, belong together, so to speak. His name was actually Albert Bitzius, he was a pastor in Lützelflüh, so an intimate connoisseur of the world of that time.

Like most Swiss people my age, I got in touch with Gotthelf at an early age. His most famous works - Ueli der Knecht, Ueli der Pächter, Annebäbi Jowäger, Die Käserei in der Vehfreude and, of course, Die Schwarze Spinne - were school stuff at every self-respecting institute (whether this is still the case today, I dare to doubt).

Most of his works have been filmed and are repeatedly featured on TV. Especially the two Ueli films have achieved cult status. Filmed in the 50s, black and white of course, they launched the careers of Liselotte Pulver and Hannes Schmidhauser, and are still a rewarding pleasure today.

However, I personally prefer the original radio plays, also from the 50s, but they are missing or rotting in the catacombs of public radio.

Too bad, they were an essential part of my cultural socialization.

However, I must admit that the books, radio plays and films leave an ambivalent legacy.

Is the displayed human nature characteristic of this region or is it a general observation of how humans are, with all their weaknesses, envy, greed and resentment?

It has taken some time until I found the answer and was allowed to give absolution to the Emmental people.

No restaurant, no dinner

The route through the Emmental is defined by Sunday. Hardly any people on the streets, few cars, who could have guessed that. After Lützelflüh, where I have a coffee and inquire from the guests about the status of the final round (still open, but I'm not quite thrilled), the path now branches off again to the south and finally follows the Emme, nice and straight down the valley, towards the main town of Langnau.

I can feel the long walk in my bones, the 20 kilometer limit has long been reached, so I console myself on the last kilometers with the reflections of the sun on the sometimes calm, then again foaming water of the Emme. Ramsei appears, I confuse it with Ranflüh, walking a few hundred meters too much, until I realize the mistake, but no matter, the day's destination is near.

Ranflüh is indeed the backwater I expected, a few houses, scattered farms, a bus stop and a single hotel, the Bären, where I booked in.

It is, as announced, closed, after all it is holy Sunday, nobody's working.

At least I manage with the help of emailed hints to find the key to the hotel and the room. And oha, the room is top, everything there, but the stomach growls, however, a restaurant is not to be found.

What would we do without Google? Would we look for someone on the street who might be able to give us information? Probably.

But Google knows everything, even about any restaurants in the vicinity. Zollbrück, the neighboring village, seems to be my salvation.

And so I get on the bus, which runs every hour, and actually find a takeout at the train station in Zollbrück, where Turkish-speaking staff prepare me a truly delicious pizza.

Then by bus back to Ranflüh. The TV dinner this evening, pizza with mineral water and the final round on TV, can compensate for much, but today for everything.

I seem to be satisfied with very little.

Matching song:   TWWO—Cage Fighter

And here the trail continues ... to Eggiwil