Our two-year assignment with Esso Libya in Benghazi several decades ago gave us a great opportunity to visit most of western Europe.
Esso paid for our airfare from Benghazi to Corpus Christi, Texas, and those tickets were without restrictions as to how many stops we could work in as we traveled. We scheduled stopovers in a whole host of countries, and Switzerland was one of the highlights.
The Swiss have a very orderly country, a true democracy where nearly every significant proposed law is enacted based on a country-wide vote.
We decided to not just view the beautiful mountains, but to take a day trip to the top of a high one complete with a gondola ride and a mountaintop experience. There are a lot to choose from, and getting there can be very easy or very difficult.
We left Zurich early that morning by train, and the train was right on time, as all Swiss trains are. If your train leaves at 9:42, the conductor is standing outside by a coach door, and when his watch says 9:42, he drops his hand and the train starts to move.
Our train ride connected with a cog railroad, which took us halfway up the mountain. As we stood on the platform ready to board a gondola, a Swiss group of about 15 people walked up, and as the gondola's door opened, everyone got on.
"Vertis, don't stare, but I think there is something different with these folks."
Before I could say anything else a young woman wearing a uniform looked at me and said, "We are taking this group of mentally disabled people on a day trip."
The gondola started out low over some lovely meadows. As it came to a deep valley where the mountain drops several thousand feet, the gondola was floating out in space, and it seemed as if we were on our way to sudden death if the gondola had a blip. It was one big "Ahaaaaaaa!" from the group as we floated over the valley. It took a few minutes to settle them down, but the two ladies in charge knew what they were doing with calming pats and smiles.
Finally, the gondola reached the top of the mountain, the door was opened, and the cable car emptied in about two seconds.
The large chalet that welcomed us with a roaring fire was where I wanted to go, so we headed there for hot chocolate. As we entered, I noticed a Japanese group sitting on outdoor benches in low 30-degree weather. As a thin person and as an American, I wasn't going to sit outside. Despite plenty of seating, only Europeans and Americans were inside.
Evidently the Japanese tour leader had reserved outside seating, not thinking about how cold the top of a mountain would be.
After warming up we went to the observation deck and spent 30 minutes taking in the view. There was snow on the ground.
We were talking to one of the guides about the mountains and he said, "You should go into the Ice Palace. It is really something to see."
We followed the signs to a narrow entrance, bought our tickets, and a guide escorted us to what I recognized as the front of a glacier. Just the idea of being inside a glacier was really enticing. Evidently some Swiss guy started carving rooms there back in 1934, and I guess with nothing else to do, he managed to carve out an entire house inside the glacier.
"The tour of the Ice Palace will take about an hour," our guide remarked as she opened the door, and we walked into the glacier. I immediately knew that this was going to be one of the longest hours of my life, because glaciers are very cold, or they would melt, and I can tell you right now that glacier and the Ice Palace weren't going to melt any time soon.
I'm guessing at the temperature, but it was something like spending an hour in your deep freeze, and yes, the Swiss guy with his chisel did create, maybe not a palace, but a four- or five-room house with ice beds and ice tables and ice sofas.
A polar bear would be right at home, but for two Southerners, it was teeth-rattling cold, and I kept thinking: Why on earth did we do this? I'm a very cold-natured person!
Finally, we escaped, and after exiting to stand by a roaring fire and drink a quart of hot chocolate, we were ready for a fondue lunch.
I had never heard of fondue back then, but it's very simple. The waitress serves you a couple of very hot pots, one with melted cheese and the other with boiling oil. You dip bread in the cheese pot, and cook meat in the hot oil pot. It was very tasty, but I found that putting a piece of steak into your mouth right out of a pot of boiling oil will fry your tongue. We spent the next hour taking pictures and enjoying a breathtaking view.
After lunch we took the gondola halfway down the mountain to start our trip back. Just as we were about to get on the cog railroad to connect with the main station, I spotted a very well-marked trail leading off the mountain with signage telling you how far it was to the village below, where we would catch our train back to Zurich.
"Vertis, come here and look at this sign. Why don't we just walk down? It should be easy. We'll be going downhill all the way."
Yes, she believed that "easy walk" part. And for the first 100 yards or so it was, but then, for the next several hours, with every step being a down step, our legs began to throb. If a divorce lawyer had met us at the bottom of that mountain, Vertis would have hired him in a New York minute.
I reminded her that she agreed, but as I heard for about 100 times, "It was your idea!"
Email Richard Mason at richard@gibraltarenergy.com.
Editorial on 07/21/2019