Writing in Walzenhousen

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

I am writing this sitting in my window, literally, at Hotel Walzenhausen as I watch the sun set over Lake Constance (yes I can type, and often do, without looking at the keyboard). From my perch above the little town of Rheineck, I can see the shores of Germany on the other side of the lake. This is one of those places I want to stay for a year or so and write. My room is perfect, a tiny little L-shaped corner room in the upper attic floor of this French architecture hotel. The long side of the L has a twin bed under a slight attic-sloped ceiling and a dormer window that looks out over the lake. The view is breathtaking – especially now as the sun sets, turning the lake a pale reflective blue and filling the sky with a dance of colors. I imagine a ballroom where women in beautiful purple and blue gowns swirl like cascading leaves around sharp men in pink and orange suits that streak across the dance floor. It is one of the most beautiful sunsets I have ever seen in my life. The short end of the L has a wardrobe, a little old wooden school desk, and another window that looks out over the cottage-dappled hills and.

Appenzell was almost annyoingly adorable.

I watched until the last golden-red glow of light had disappeared beneath the horizon. From the moment I entered this little paradise, I didn’t want the day to end – stretching each second of the steadily descending sun with my presence, appreciation, and joy. These are the moments when I am glad I am so good at rationalizing. Between the internet connection, the view, and the days behind I am in writing, I’m sure I’ll find a way to justify the sixty dollars and stay another day.

Saturday was a lovely last day with Mirjam, my host in Fribourg. We lingered over breakfast, did a little shopping together, then rode bikes through the countryside out to a beautiful convent. For those of you who don’t know, many of the convents in Europe take guests who need a few days of tranquility. Some charge a nominal fee; others nothing at all. Guests are generally expected to observe curfews and any vows of silence – at meals for example – but it is a wonderful option for finishing a focus project, or just to take a break from the world at large. Students in the area will go there for intense study periods. From the convent we rode to the river. I was amazed how many people were lounging about or picnicking on this rock bed river – easily enjoying a sunny Saturday afternoon. We sat near an ethnically diverse group of Austrians – some just lounging, some skipping stones, the rest playing volley ball without a net, or rules, so contrary to Americans! It reminded me of books written in the time of Huckleberry Fin when people could make their own entertainment rather than expecting to be entertained or having to have an objective. Saturday night we ate at Mirjam’s favorite Turkish restaurant. Did you know in Europe a Kebab is the type of meat they make Gyros out of and that Gyros made with a flour tortilla instead of Pita bread are considered Turkish? We had our traditional last cigarette (or four) of the evening before I packed and headed to bed. I was sad Sunday morning to wake for the last time on my little mattress in Mirjam’s living room. It was such a pleasure spending this week with her. We had breakfast one last time before she walked me to the train station for our last goodbye. I look forward to the time I will see her again.

English had completely disappeared from both the signs and the store clerks when I stepped off the train in St. Gallen, a tourist attraction in its own right though unfortunately I didn’t have time to explore. It already earned my heart with a WiFi Starbucks right in the train station. Every once in a while I just have to be American. St. Gallen is the largest city center in an area that has been popularly seen as a “health” resort of sorts for over 200 years; thanks initially to the doctor who founded “movement therapy” and more recently to its numerous trails suitable to the Nordic Fitness Walking fad – a special type of power walking with poles to give the whole body a workout. You know the Nordic Walking Machine you see on the info-mercials? It is that only here they do it outside instead of on a machine. Over the last few decades, the area has continued to develop itself as a health resort with most hotels boasting spa services to complement the natural health options of bicycling or walking the plentiful trails. It was entertaining the contrast between the rolling hills, simple folk, and palpable tranquility in the air and the occasional $100,000 sports car flying up the hill. The rich always know where the best spas are!

I had no idea where I was going actually – just happened to find a good deal on the internet and needed a day of downtime to catch up on my writing. I knew I had lucked out when I stepped off the train in Rheineck and saw a little single cable car waiting to take me up the hill adjoining the city. I learned later the RhW Mountain Railway has been carrying people between Rheineck and Walzenhausen for over one hundred years – driving up the side of the mountain on a track and a cable above, at one point across a teeny narrow bridge where you can look straight down several hundred feet into a gully below. You then disappear into a tunnel which carries you up through the hill and to the surface, arriving in a little teeny station in the center of the cul-de-sac where my hotel was. It was really quite romantic (in the yearning of yesteryear since as opposed to ga-ga in love sense).

This canton is known as Appenzell and has the unique quality of being not only the only canton within a canton, but a canton itself subdivided. The divide was originally a result of the division between the protestant and catholic religions, though now it seems more a geographic division between the rolling green hills of the north and the alpine region of the south. I was fascinated to learn of its political institution known as Landgemeinden – open air democratic assemblies that require the presence of every male citizen over twenty. Failure to appear results in a hefty fine. It is the supreme legislative authority for the area, responsible for electing representatives and deciding local issues. For time immemorial, meetings have been held the last Sunday in April. Various old fashioned ceremonies continue to be observed at the gatherings and the members still appear with a girded sword. This is something I would love to see one day.

The tranquility in this area is pervasive. It lingers in the air, settling in and around your body, your spirit. The tinkling of cow bells, the cool blue of the lake, the rolling hills dotted with quaint cottages. It well-deserves its reputation for convalescence. The very air soothes the spirit and soul. I took a walk in the late afternoon just to see the town. The view of the lake ahead and the mountains off in the distance seemed to change markedly every few steps I took. There is nothing in Walzenhousen to speak of, a couple little shops, and pretty little buildings with the wonderful Swiss window boxes full of flowers. Every street you walk down you see someone with a watering can tending the little plants around their home. There was something so endearingly simple about little old men or young wives standing with an old metal watering can of yesteryear tipping the can in little flower boxes and planters. It made me feel like I was part of a simple life I had only read about in books.

One of my Switzerland traditions has been to try the local cheese from each region so I stopped at a little store for some Appenzell cheese. Gruyere is my favorite so far. The Grindelwald was too soft and plain. Appenzell cheese had the unique quality of smelling rotten but tasting quite good. Generally a bad smell wins out over tastebuds, but not with Appenzell cheese. A few minutes with it open in a hot room and I felt nauseous. I had to eat it all so I couldn’t smell it anymore!

It is interesting to me that America never really carried on Europe’s love for cheese. Sure we like our wine and cheese and most people prefer a slice of cheddar on a hamburger, but for the Italians, Swiss, and French, cheese is almost a staple. Where we have 36 toilet papers to choose from and about 15 cheeses, they have about 42 cheeses and the two TP options. I never appreciated how delightful a hunk of bread, a chunk of cheese, and a bunch of grapes can be – even without the wine!

I enjoyed my two days, sitting at the little desk or in the windows, mesmerized sometimes by the woman in the house down the hill who loved red. She looked a bit like Madonna except straighter-bodied, and always had a red flower in her hair. The flowers that decorated her beautiful split-level home were all red. I could see her out on the balcony sunning herself in a red swimsuit or riding her bike down the street in red sport pants. The car out front was red, as was the bike. Her door was opened when I walked by one evening and I could see the mix of natural woods, contrasting cool greens, and accents in red. It was really quite lovely. I decided when I finished my todo’s, I was going to go knock on her door in the hopes she spoke English and ask her to join me for a coffee. Unfortunately, I never finished the to do list and will never know anything more about her except her passion for the color of passion.

My diminishing wallet put its foot down with my rationalizing brain after the second day. I was still behind on work but it was time to move on to the Couchsurfing Collective. I decided to take the night train to Vienna and make the most of a last few hours in Appenzelland - namely by visiting Appenzell, its largest village and the political capital. Appenzell, the town, has a reputation for being very conservative and so has preserved many old customs and costumes. The town is clearly dedicated to the tourist industry, teeming with shops taunting wallets with tons of Swiss delights – watches, regional art, housewares and of course all the tourist trappings. Yet it still keeps its quaint appeal. In fact it is almost annoyingly adorable. There is, however, enough sense of every day life that it doesn’t smell of the cardboard façade and painted plastic of Gruyere and other “Disney” cities. Pretty painted pictures adorn the houses and shops of main street and over the doors hang quaint hand painted metallic monikers with apropos designs to describe the store - pretty perfume bottles for the perfumerie or helpful people and a train over the information station.

Appenzell was undoubtedly more adorable than Rheineck, yet personally I preferred the area around Lake Constance. There was a realness to the tranquility there; tranquility born of simple people living everyday lives. From the moment you step off the train and follow the long park where people lounge and chat on benches beneath the trees, the tranquility in Appenzell is palpable, yet it is the touchable tranquility of people who have put away their troubles for a day or two and are intentionally relaxing – a force, false tranquility in a sense. Underneath the people chatting at the tables and spending their euros in the shops, was the knowledge that soon they would have to go back and earn the money to pay for all this relaxing. It would be nice to spend a few days here – especially for their New Year’s Day festivities which are still held on the 14^th of January according to the Julian calendar - but if I were to choose a place to settle for a year it would be nearer to Rheineck.

After a couple hours wandering Appenzell, I made my way to the foot of Mount Santis where a suspended cable car takes you to the summit. At 2,502 meters. (8,208 feet), you can see six countries from the summit, even as far south as Italy. The view is almost as incomprehensible as the thought of the men and women who had the vision and fortitude to scale this peak over one hundred years ago and begin building what is now a grand complex and meteorology center. They run all sorts of specials, from full moon dinners beneath the stars to Jazz festivals to sunrise services. It is really quite impressive. This is one of those moments where a picture is worth a thousand words: www.saentisbahn.ch

I walked around for two hours, mouth agape, snapping photos despite the less than clear day (check the website) before heading back down for the long trek back to St. Gallen and on to Austria for my first night train. Tomorrow morning I would be in Vienna. Two months on the road and so far I never want to stop!