Lucerne

Murren is a hard place to leave because it's lovely. It's easy to leave, however, in the most literal sense of the word, because the Swiss public transportation system is superb.

I could praise the tidy railway stations, the prompt train cars and the convenient schedules, but instead I'll rave about the snacks on the train.

Oh - and wait! Something delayed the server bringing our cheese, so she brought chocolate, too. Amtrak just doesn't hold a candle.

We were on a train called the Golden Pass, so I felt a bit like Charlie Bucket with his golden ticket. Especially when the scene out the window looked like a fairy tale.

After this countryside, can any city look good? Yes, if the city is Lucerne

Beforehand, I read  that Lucerne is 836 years old, that it was built on a hillside beside the River Reuss, that the old town is filled with car-free cobblestone streets, squares, churches, clocks and buildings with painted facades, and that the original, towered city wall still runs along the hilltop. But we stepped off the train - two typical Americans from a typical American bedroom community - unprepared for how pretty Lucerne really is.

This is the Kapellbrucke (1333), one of Lucerne's iconic covered bridges. Inside, the triangular spaces between beams contain paintings depicting Lucerne's history. The tower, called the Wasserturm, was part of the city's original fortifications and has served as an archive, a prison, and a torture chamber. We walked downriver and crossed the Spreuerbrucke ("chaff bridge" - 1408) also.  Its interior paintings follow a disturbing "dance of death" theme that makes the brothers Grimm tales seem benign and cuddly. I photographed it not.

This is a bronze (I think) map of Lucerne; the Total Package is pointing to our hotel in the old town, near the Kapellbrucke. The big building beneath his elbow is the train station, and Lake Lucerne is under his armpit.

We walked the old city wall, climbing into some of the towers, one of which contains a clock that's been working for hundreds of years. We stood beside the the cogs and wheels and giant pendulum, and shot arrows through the narrow slits, and poured boiling oil upon our nasty foe. Just kidding.

 

Of course every city needs a Starbucks. A tall black coffee cost about $7 American, so we shared, at an outdoor table by the river, and visited with a woman from Shanghai, who liked Lucerne as much as we did.