Berner Oberland adventures

I will just copy what I wrote in my journal, with only a few edits for literary embellishment...

Walking down from Schnyge Platte towards a city where I would take the train to Lauterbrunnen, I passed an alp, a summer farm, and say an old man just standing around. The sun was shining, there was a clear view of the mountains, and I was feeling good, so I said (and Carolyn will forgive my spelling and translation) Hallo schön Tag (beautiful day). He responded by asking where I was going on my hike, but of course I did not understand because he asked it in German. With a smile I had to say I did not actually speak German, and, amazingly he switched to a broken English. It turns out this old Swiss farmer was born in Portland, though he moved with his family back to Switzerland when he was only 6 months old. He knows his English from his family that is still in America-it is broken, but I understand it.

He told me, with words and gestures, that he was waiting for the cable car to bring up hay for the animals. Ernst liked to talk. About his family. About the farm. He was the boss of the surrounding alp, he said, and in charge of 300 or more cows. He told me where there were farmers around there. I took a big breath and asked if I could sleep the night there on the farm and offered to pay. He asked me to repeat what I had just said, that he did not understand it. I did and he said yes yes I could sleep in his big farmhouse where there was plenty of space, a separate room for me, and he had plenty of food, no paying. Wow! what a chance. A night on a real Alp farm. Somehow this fit into the Watson idea of getting a real chance to see the countries you visit, even if it isn`t exactly a mountain hut system per se.

We had views out onto the Eiger, Mönch, and Jungfrau mountains, the big 3 of the Berner Oberland. The hay came up in the cable car... it was loaded to the brim with 30 bales. I offered to help unload but Ernst said no this is not a woman`s work, this is a man`s job. Not wanting to disrespect my new host right away, I listened and watched as the 77 year old man heaved around heavy hay bales. Finally they were out of the cable car, but in a pile outside. When Ernst started to bring them into a nearby barn, I started to carry too. I though immediately of Mckenna and Megan and Carolyn on Whidbey over winter break, when, yes, I couldn`t manage to lift a hay bale... I guess I was just more motivated this time.

The barn chores finished, we headed up to the house, me with my bag and sticks and Ernst with his big leather pack and cane. The house was a big building with a barn attached. Ernst, a builder, had constructed two newer barns so the cows no longer went inside this one. There is a long entry way with boots under a bench and heavy coats hanging on hooks and lots of windows for light. The main room had a big table, a sink, a stove, an oven, a heater and pots and lids hanging from the walls everywhere. The room next door is the bedroom of sorts... 4 beds against the wall lengthwise. I could pick any one to be my bed for the night. They all had the usual big fluffy comforters.

Ernst put water on for tea and then we went upstairs, through the barn, to see his room, and something he really wanted to show me. He was proud of the wood up there. He had restored it himself. He unlocked a cabinet with a hidden key then reached under and around things for another key to unlock another cabinet. Eventually, he found what he was looking for--the original deed to the farm dated from 1792. He showed me pictures of his American family. We went downstairs for tea. Ernst served some biscuits and cheese too, cutting the bits of mold from the old cheese first. We sat down and Ernst put on the Berner Oberland radio station--of course they were playing American music. Soon we heard a motor and Ernst jumped up. I got up in time to see a younger man in a blue work suit come through the door. He was the cheesemaker from the alp downstairs, as Ernst called it. He also was in charge of picking up the post with his motorbike. So Ernst, as I suspect most would, insisted that he have a cup of tea with us. He brought out a little cake too, a special treat for all of the guests I suppose. Ernst went out later to fix a water pipe a cow`s bell had broken, and I had a couple minutes to myself to think...Here I am, at a farmhouse in the Alps.

Ernst made a quick call to his cousin in the US, just because he loved his telephone. I talked to Maria, his cousin, for a minute or two, explaining how I came to be a guest at this farm. She told me Ernst is a great ole guy. Yes, I know.

We walked down to the cheesemaker`s alp for a pail of milk just before dinner. I saw the huge vats of hot milk with a layer of film on top to be removed, and cheese in its big round shape, covered in blankets to sit over night. Benny, who works on the farm, came for dinner. We had red wine as well as coffee with the fresh milk, potatoes fried up with noodles (yes the noodles got very crunchy) and some meat, cold, and someone preserved in a jar like a jam. We stayed up talking for a while. Benny knew some English from a trip to Jamaica and he liked world music. But it is a farm, after all, and since most rose early in the morning, we had to go to bed early. Ernst assured me I could sleep in but...

at 6.15am he came in saying COFFEE COFFEE. We had bread and cheese for breakfast, bright and early, then I was awake with not much to do. Ernst had promised me a ride down to the town where I could catch a train in the cable car, so I was waiting for the hay to come up so I could go down. When it did come, I got in and waved goodbye as the car descended. Ernst and Benny waved for a bit, then got to work with the hay. It is a working farm, after all.


Well that was the adventure on the farm, but it wasn`t all that I did in the Berner Oberland. I made it from Engelberg where I rode on a mule with Armin to Engstlenalp to Meiringen to Faulhorn before the farm at Iselten. All those days means I left the mountains pretty smelly, but feeling pretty good.