Murmuring voices wake me from a deep blackout. The clock indicates that I have slept ten hours, not surprisingly after yesterday's ordeal. But today, according to the hiking guide, the trail is supposed to be moderate in comparison to yesterday.

From Trogen (AR) over two gentle hills with a great view of the Säntis, the city of St.Gallen, Lake Constance and the hilly Appenzellerland into the wide Appenzell basin with its richly decorated town houses.

Easy compared to yesterday.

 

Stage 2: Trogen - Appenzell
Stage 2: From Trogen to Appenzell

 

Breakfast with fellow sufferers

The murmuring emanates from the room next to mine.

Anyway, I set off for breakfast with surprisingly hardly any aching joints and indeed, for some unknown reason, the guest room was converted into the breakfast room. What advantage can be gained from this compared to the much larger normal guest room in the restaurant escapes me.

Anyway, four people are already sitting close together at the table, including the couple from the train (the dog had to stay in the room) and the two bikers. The landlady, corpulent and friendly and talkative, leads me to a table for one, where a rather opulent breakfast awaits me.

The couple is actually on the Panoramaweg, but only a few stages to Amden, then they get off. We all feel a bit like heroes, especially me, who wants to complete the whole route. There seem to be all sorts of doubts in the incredulous faces, is it my age?

One of the bikers actually asks if I have a second pair of hiking boots with me. Really? …

 

The Pestalozzi Children's Village

The landlady explains the route to Appenzell to me, and so I start the second day of hiking cheerfully and with fresh vigor.

The path quickly leads out of Trogen into the countryside, the day is as beautiful as it can be. You can't help but walk slowly, breathe in the spicy air, feel the happiness. Again and again, neat houses appear, their gardens full of blooming and fragrant flowers, a single feast for the eyes.

Not far above Trogen lies the Pestalozzi Children's Village.

Since 1946, children and young people have been at the center of this charity's activities. In twelve countries around the world, the foundation gives disadvantaged children access to quality education. In the Children's Village, Swiss school classes meet young people from Eastern Europe. The aim of the project weeks is to break down prejudices and deal constructively with cultural, religious and ideological differences (Wikipedia).

The Children's Village became internationally known. In the first ten years it counted about 500'000 visitors. Prominent visitors included Konrad Lorenz, the 14th Dalai Lama, Auguste Piccard, Henri Guisan, Josephine Baker, Pablo Casals, Martin Buber, Queen Friederike and King Paul of Greece, Gustav Wyneken, Werner Bergengruen, Carl Jacob Burckhardt, Hermann Gmeiner. (Wikipedia)

Even from a distance you can see that this is a special settlement. The entrance to the main buildings shows panels with artworks of the children, many from the most diverse cultural and linguistic regions, all with a comparable fate, poverty, malnutrition, disadvantage.

Sometimes I wonder what made these people like Pestalozzi or Henri Dunant tick. Something distinguishes them from us. Something crucial. Perhaps it is purely and simply that they recognize a problem (as we do) and decide to do something about it (as we do not). They should forever have our respect.

You don't have to think twice to realize that Pestalozzi's establishing this charity is far more important for Switzerland's image than wealth, banks, cleanliness, Roche and Nestlé and Glencore and all the others.

 

The Pestalozzi Children's Village

The paintings are beautiful, you wish to meet the children, to hear their story, to wish them all the best in the world. But one remains an intruder, it is better to leave it with the thoughts and wishes for a better future of these children and young people.

 

Paintings done by the children

Paintings done by the children 2

 

The right and the wrong way

As expected, it doesn't take long before I'm standing in a deep, dark, boggy forest and no longer know where to go next. The way there has been carefree, relaxed, almost euphoric, through a green lush landscape up the hills. No pain, back and knees have signed off for the moment, I will reward them tonight with another dose of Voltaren.

 

this is definitely not the right path this one's better

So a mistake happened somewhere, just how do I get out of here without going all the way back? I fight my way to the end of the forest, then up a steep, overgrown meadow, whereupon the much-praised knees report (if you want to know more about my stupid knees, take a look at the South America Blog sometime).

Puffing heavily, I reach the road where a farmer is just about to mend the fence. Knowing the farmers' penchant for idiots trampling through their meadows, I apologize to the gentleman. He just laughs and shrugs. "Not my meadow, I'm just mending the fence." Well then.

I finally get up to the top hills, to the place called Hohe Buche, where I can find neither a tree nor a high beechtree. Instead, two signposts with the 3 pointing in different directions. Damn it! That can't be true. My beloved 3 signposts want to make fun of me?

At least there is a restaurant nearby, where I ask for the correct way. The host laughs and can't believe that the signposts show different directions. Well, at least he knows the right turnoff, and so I head downhill, sometimes not surprisingly also uphill, towards the village of Bühler.

The little bench, just right for a sip of water and something sweet, lies on the other side of a fence. Curious cows follow my picnic with interest, come closer, want to know more precisely what is hiding in my backpack. Oh the cows, I love them deeply, these fart machines, climate destroyers, methane emitters ...

 

Curious cows

 

Dark clouds

The brew in the sky sending sunshine and good spirits to their doom makes my stomach a little queasy. Is there a thunderstorm coming? What I do not know at this moment is that this will be the beginning of a rainy period lasting several days. Sometimes, especially in such undertakings, it is good to leave the future in the dark.

 

The clouds are getting darker
The clouds are getting darker

In any case, my arrival in Bühler, a downright awful place, is rather accompanied by worry wrinkles. A thunderstorm is not what my heart desires at this moment, so I decide to look for a restaurant and wait out the rain. A local with a slight Balkan accent points me in the right direction, I hurry along the street while the first drops are splashing on the hot pavement. The restaurant turns out to be very closed, and apparently there is no other.

If the weather actually turns nasty, I will take the train to Appenzell. The train station is nearby, a good place for lunch and half an hour waiting for the thunderstorm, which, however, makes itself scarce and moves to the north. Very well.

 

Young lady with labrador

The rest of the way is actually very pleasant, if it weren't for the repeated sections of the route leading downhill on asphalt roads.

At least there is occasionally a highly welcome change, today in the shape of a young lady with whom I get into conversation. Apparently, her Labrador is so full of ticks that only a trip to the vet can help. The dog gets a few cuddles and reassuring words from me, then the lady disappears with a goodbye and all the best in a copse leading down to Appenzell.

The valley basin with the main town Appenzell of the canton Appenzell Innerrhoden lies ahead, but the road (of course a tarred road) is a hassle, and I am glad when finally the first houses appear on the valley bottom. And there is also already Labrador with company, the doctor's visit already done.

 

Appenzell

From high up, Appenzell looks exactly as imagined. I have to admit, I've never been here, though in Luang Prabang or Bogota or Mandalay, but never in Appenzell. I do not know the reason. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that this small canton is home to a very strange bunch of people, stubborn, opinionated people who like to do or think or decide about things that don't conform to the general trend.

 

Appenzell from afar
Appenzell from above - the dung heap is not there by chance

 

This manifests itself in different ways. For example, with the insistence of the male population to exclude women from the political processes. I am convinced that without the superior judicial authority there would still be no voting rights for women to this day

And there is the so-called Ständemehr. For uninitiated readers: Switzerland's direct democracy stipulates that referendums and initiatives that can be pushed by the population and at the same time involve changes to the constitution must not only reach a majority of the popular vote, but also a majority of the cantons.

This is a kind of Swiss-style checks and balances policy. In concrete terms, it means that a small canton like Appenzell with a few thousand inhabitants has exactly the same influence on the decision as the populous canton of Zurich.

While this ratio used to be somewhat coherent, it is no longer true today. Today, 1 resident of Appenzell equals about 150 residents of Zurich. Which of course leads to problems and puts the Ständemehr in question again and again. To abolish it, however, there is a small problem. For this, a Ständemehr would be necessary.

The consequence: since Appenzell (both) and with it some others in central Switzerland are deeply conservative, more urban, forward-looking bills have reduced chances of being adopted. Which of course leads to frustration and resistance from the more progressive cantons and residents.

But let's see how it really looks like in this stubborn little place. After all, you should always look your opponent in the eye before judging.

 

Appenzell - the real one

Actually, I feel very comfortable from the first moment. The coffee in the garden of a restaurant at the entry of the old town, served by a sympathetic young lady, contributes a lot to this. But there's no denying that Appenzell is a tourist hotspot of the first order.

The old town is teeming with tourists from all over the world (I thought Corona kept most of them from traveling; apparently I missed something). For now, though, the task is to find my hotel, and since my cell phone battery is dead, I have to try the old-fashioned way to find the address. The young lady in the restaurant takes out her own cell phone, opens Google Maps and tells me the direction. Best thanks, but as often before, after a few minutes I have forgotten the directions and have to ask someone else for help. This young gentleman is also very helpful, only he points me in a completely different direction.

But what the heck, even blind hens eventually find a grain of corn, and so I finally stand in front of the Hotel Stossplatz (an extremely strange name), but the establishment is still closed. I'm not inclined to walk a single extra meter, though, so I make myself comfortable in front of the entrance until the lady of the house shows up and grants me entry.

 

Appenzöller Chäs Spätzli with Bölle

In Appenzell, of course, you can't help but admire the wonderful painted houses. This is probably one of the main reasons for the tourist success. I am indeed impressed, but not just for the sake of the houses, but for the atmosphere in the town. Although there is quite a hustle and bustle, the atmosphere is relaxed, friendly, with a dash of slyness that suits these people so well.

Unlike its sister canton Appenzell Ausserrhoden, the Landsgemeinde has been preserved here. The Landsgemeinde square seems to breathe with democratic elemental force; in any case, one gets the impression that the former masters of the universe are raising their hands (or is it the sword?) to put an end to the annoying women's suffrage once again.

 

One of those wonderfully painted houses in Appenzell

...and another one of many

I treat myself - although the weather again tilts towards rain - in the garden of a restaurant an Appenzeller speciality that should not be missed. Appenzöller Chäs Spätzli with Bölle. Numerous tourists, but also many locals walk by, people greet each other, it seems as if everyone knows each other here. Which is probably true.

Then finally retreat to the hotel, it does not take long before lightning flashes illuminate the night and the rain hits my windows full of fury and force, so that I have to close them hurriedly. It does not look good for the next day. More strong thunderstorms are forecast, and when I think of the ridge walk towards Kronberg, I feel a bit queasy. If I hate something when hiking, it is thunderstorms.

But let's see. I want to sleep, but everything seems to have conspired against me. First a mosquito in the room annoys me, then the thunder wakes me up again, finally I am wide awake and think of the exhausting stage of Saturday. After midnight I give up and swallow a sleeping pill, which is guaranteed to wake me up in the morning as a sleepwalking zombie.

 

Matching Song:   Muse - Resistance

And here the hike continues ... to the Chamhaldenhütte near the Schwägalp

 

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