Globe Corner Blogs

Switzerland is, without a doubt, one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been.

In some ways, the beauty here is almost frustrating. I can’t find the words to describe how amazing it is, and constantly find myself saying, “Oh, that’s so pretty,” “Wow, look at that,” or something similarly inadequate.

Sometimes, it’s so darn pretty here that it’s nearly comical. Yesterday, on the train from Lucerne to Lugano, there was a lush green valley to my right with a crystal-clear brook running through it, and tiny colorful houses all around. On my left was a mountain rising sharply, towering over the train. Emerald green, covered with countless evergreens, two glacier-fed waterfalls tumbled down its sides. At a rocky precipice near the base, the waterfalls came near each other; they had the audacity to crash off the rocks and meet, mid-air, over a grotto of craggy rocks. I think I saw a rainbow.

It was all so ridiculously beautiful, all I could do was laugh. Where did this place come from? I began to wonder if this was some kind of Toblerone-induced mirage.

This train route was the second part of our journey from Zurich to Cinque Terre, in the Italian Riviera. Before this train ride, we headed south from Zurich to Lucerne, the birthplace of the nation according to Swiss folklore. Located in the pre-Alps, Lake Lucerne is situated at the base of several mountains. The town  has a lovely lakefront promenade, with views of mountains driving steeply into the lake. There are also a number of interesting Medieval bridges near the Old Town. Compared to Zurich, it felt a lot more touristy. It had something of a European playground vibe, reinforced by the fancy watch stores on all corners.

Our real destination here was  Mt. Pilatus. A hazy mountain overlooking the lake, visitors can travel to the very top by cable car. The journey consists of an initial ride up the mountain in a small cable car, passing over pastures and small farms with huge brown cows clanging their bells.  The Alps pop in and out of view as the lake below grows smaller; the top of Pilatus hangs above, and somehow seems more foreboding than all the other sunny, blue mountains in the distance.

At the next checkpoint, there is a snack bar, a sunny viewing area, and a place for kids to play. From there, a larger, heftier car scales you up the now rocky mountainside; the cable car seems to just barely skim the crags jutting out from Pilatus.

At this point, around 5,000 feet up, things become sublime. A tiny church on a grassy outcropping faces the mountaintop; a cross on the rocks above it is outlined by the green pastures in the distance. The little clinks in the cable car’s wiring become a bit more noticeable as the mountaintop blocks out the sun.

The funicular ride ends in a friendly shop filled with t-shirts and, yes, more Toblerones. Outside, on the mountaintop, a viewing deck with beach chairs allows people to relax while they take in the view; the more physically ambitious can climb to the the very top, about a hundred feet up, on a number of walking paths that take about an hour. I should note here that the main viewpoint of Pilatus is wheelchair-accessible; we also saw lots of parents with little babies and small children.

The view here is astounding. Mountains of all ranges of blue are just touching the clouds, and there are yet more blues in the lakes below. Glacial whites glint on the line of peaks, and the yellow and green pastures in the distance gradually give way to the lakes and hills leading to the mountains.

We hiked through some of the tunnels blasted into the mountainside. Dark and drippy, the chilly gloom of the tunnels is a reality check from the sundeck. Along the way, windows and viewpoints give a 360-degree  picture of surrounding areas.

To descend, a crazy little red train, built on a 45-degree angle (picture a train shaped like a staircase), takes you down the mountain. We passed Eidelweiss and crudely marked graves, and most people in our car dozed off, exhausted, I think, from the sheer excitement of the trip.

In typical Swiss fashion, we were dropped off at another train station at the base of the mountain. A few minutes later, we were on the train back to Lucerne, the Swiss clocks of the SBB counting down the minutes to our arrival.

Read more: Central Europe, Cinque Terre, Lucerne, Switzerland, the Alps, Train Travel, Travel, Zurich


Kate lives and works in Chicago, IL. Her interests include fine arts, food and wine, and baseball.

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