Think of the things you do on a regular basis. They become repetitively and because of that we build routines around them. We establish what seems to be the most efficient way to do a job, refined by repetition, and then we mindlessly go about our business. Often, we end up doing nothing but routine work. When our life becomes nothing but routine, with no uncertainty to spice it up, we get restless and uneasy. We feel like something is "missing". We start looking for something to break the routine. An adventure. Something as simple as a spontaneous shopping trip or as complex as a bike trip in Europe and anything in between.
These routines, when not overbearing and monotonous, are comforting. They give us a sense of place, of familiarity. We always put something in the same spot so it's easy to find. We get up at the same time each day, ride the same bus, have a Pepsi at the same hamburger stand, play cards on the same night of the week. If something breaks our routines, we feel uneasy.
Leaving for Europe, I put my trusty wallet away in my chest of drawers and strapped a money belt around my waist. I did this a day or two before leaving in hopes I could get used to that empty spot over my right rear cheek that always feels the weight and warmth of my wallet. Each time I sat in a car, I noticed the lack of push back from my right rear side. My immediate reaction was an instant of panic, "My wallet is missing!" A split second layer my rational brain would say, "No, no, it's okay, remember, we are now using a money belt. Feel the warmth and pressure on your belly?" Even when I was on the airplane to France, the routine of wallet was still engrained. I would have a momentary uneasiness each time I realized my wallet was gone.
Upon arrival in Paris, all routines are gone. Our actions must be deliberate and thought through, because there is nothing routine. Something as simple as buying carrots in a store requires concentration. Weigh the carrots at the vegetable area and attach the price tag. Put the food on the right side of the checker. The food slides down to the sitting checker. It is scanned and delivered to the left side of the checker where it slides back to us. Extract credit card from front pouch of money belt, not rear wallet. Negotiate language barrier. Sign receipt (that's the same!). Remember to put card back in money belt next to passport.
After a few days, the operation becomes routine, nearly automatic, and it feels natural. But, the first few days, the learning curve keeps your senses alert and your moves measured; anything but routine.
Today, we bade goodbye to Roger and Marlis. They drove us, with our panniers, to the train station, helped us extract our bikes from storage and walked us to the station where we parted. We so enjoyed our visit, but it was time for us to begin our biking adventure.
We had about 45 minutes before our train left, so I made a stop at the Coop food store for bread, cheese, noodles and fruit for the day. As our train pulled, in we scoped out the cars with big bike logos on the windows. It takes me three trips to board a train. First, I carry my bike up and into the car and hang it on the rack. Next, I do the same with Sally's. Finally, I haul our four panniers and my backpack up the stairs and find a seat. We had two train changes and three trains to ride to get to Oberalppass. I repeated this process, along with its unloading opposite, three times today.
Switzerland is everything we hear it is. The landscape is incredibly gorgeous, even by Yosemite and National Park standards. Trains gliding along lakes and cliffs, above lakes on cliffs, through mountains, up mountains using cogs centered between the two rails to lift it up unbelievably steep grades for a car, let alone a train. And the jagged peaks above watch over it all as we are whisked quietly and efficiently along, always on time to the nearest minute.
Our first ride was an hour and a half and dropped us at Groggenen. We had to take the bikes down a set of stairs, under two sets of tracks and up a set of stairs to platform 11 for our ride to Andermatt. We lolly gagged, taking a couple of quick pictures and missed our train, but another was due in ten minutes. This train required our bikes to be in a baggage car at the rear of the five car train. An attendant helped us lift them in.
At Andermatt, the train stopped just short of the platform due to another train blocking its progress, so we jumped out and extricated our bikes and gear. We had an hour to wait for the next connection to Oberalppass. We loaded the bikes with our panniers and rode into Andermatt to see this high mountain town. At the store, we met a Canadian living in Switzerland for the past ten years. He gave us some good ideas about travel and Swiss life.
Our last train switch backed up the side of the mountain four times until it reached the less steep approach to the pass. Luckily, the train was nearly empty, allowing me to run from one side to the next snapping pictures and ogling the view like a crazed American tourist.
The weather for the past two weeks has been hot and dry. Not a cloud in the sky. And each night we were in a room of some sort. Tonight we are on our own, tenting and camping from here on. The clouds have been building all day, dark looking thunderheads, billowing around the jagged peaks of the Alps. Within 20 minutes of our exiting the train the thunder started to rumble and 10 minutes later the rain began.
As the sky threatened, Sally encouraged me, insisted really, that I hike the 3.5 miles from Oberalppass up to Lake Toma, the headwaters of the Rhine. If we make it to Rotterdam, I will have seen the entire length of the river.
Sally got her rain gear on and checked out a restaurant to use as waiting room. I donned my rain gear also, and headed up the trail. Thunder boomed across the sky and rain and hail spit down as I climbed to the lake. On my way down a herd of bell toting cows were in the trail. A sweet one let me take a selfie with her. An elderly woman I met at the lake was cowering under a rock overhang, fearful of the lightning, reluctant to cross the open meadows. I said I agreed it to be a bit dangerous, but I was trusting to luck. She headed down while I continued to the lake. Back at the parking lot, as Sally and I were preparing to ride, she stopped by in her car and offered to transport our bags to wherever we were going, feeling a bit sorry for us due to the rain. We told her we were okay and happy to start riding and thanked her profusely for her kind offer.
It was now about 4:00 pm, 56° and raining. Our goal was Disentis, a small Swiss town about 16 miles down the road; and I do mean down.
The road has a dozen switchbacks to get down off the pass, and the road is steep. We coasted down the switchbacks, hands squeezing the brake levers and then down long stretches of gently descending terrain, passing through small town after small town for about an hour. The temperature rose as we dropped altitude and soon the rain stopped. In Disentis we bought a few items for dinner, including a fuel canister for our stove.
Our Camping Europe app showed a campsite a mile out of town on the Rhine. We dropped precipitously into the campground and walked up to the registration window. The app gave a price of $45 for camping, but that price includes a car and electrical hookups. We thought the price would come in around $20-$30 for the night. The lady running registration quoted us $11 for the "site" (any place we wanted to pitch our tent in an open, unmarked field) and $13 each, plus a $6 camping tax, or $43 for one night. This was far more the we had budgeted for camping. The thought of riding back up the killer hill we had just descended was out of the question. We consented to the price, handed over our Passport and credit card and were soon cycling through the crowded campground to the tenting area.
There are no designated campsites for those doing a "pitch". You simple wedge yourself in between the other tents already erected and meet the neighbors, if you speak the same language. To our right were a young German couple with a baby. They spoke good English. To our left, an Asian family with four kids. We shared no language in common with them. We were tired, so we mostly stayed to ourselves, cooked dinner and prepared for a wet night. It only rained about an hour, just after dark, but our tent kept us dry through the night.
The learning curve bit us today. We learned that camping in Switzerland is expensive and we need to be more creative in our camping endeavors if we want to stay on budget. We learned to briskly move between trains to make connections. We learned it rains in the afternoons and evenings after relatively nice days. We need to get settled early to avoid riding in the rain. We also learned that the people are helpful, friendly, kind, giving and when we can communicate, fun to get to know.
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