Bettmeralp, Switzerland: Sometimes you feel like a trip to a place where you can drink the water and the people speak English - yet you don't run into hordes of Canadians, Americans, Brits, Australians and other native English speakers.
Well, add this little-known picture postcard perfect corner of the world to your bucket list.
Most people have heard of Switzerland's popular tourist attractions like Zermatt, the Matterhorn, St. Moritz and the major cities like Zurich, Geneva and Lucerne. But very few outside Europe know Bettmeralp, a village with almost no cars accessible only by aerial tramway from the Rhone valley and 1,950m (6,400 feet) above sea level. "Most of our visitors come from Switzerland, Germany and Holland," said Simon Weiler, sales manager for Aletsch Arena, this southwest area of the
country which includes the Jungfrau-Aletsch UNESCO World Heritage Site. And indeed, during my five-day stay I didn't meet any native English speakers although other visitors and the locals could speak English.
Still, it's worth making the effort to say at least a few greeting words in the local lingo - which is an interesting mix of Switzerland's four official languages (German, French, Italian, Romansch) plus Swiss-German and in
this area, the Valais canton dialect.
So the German "guten abend" ("good evening") greeting, which seems to be used from mid-afternoon on, becomes "naben." And good-bye is mostly the Italian "ciao."
Especially in a small place like Bettmeralp (permanent population,
520 - growing to 3,000 in summer and 6,000 around Christmas) you can expect people entering a restaurant to say hello to the diners already there. You don't necessarily have to greet everybody you meet. But most people do, particularly if you are out on a hike.
It's the hiking in - or simply gazing at - that spectacular alpine scenery which draws me back to Switzerland time and again.
Indeed, picture postcard perfect is the only way to describe the "sunburned" (as Weiler puts it) chalets that cluster in the villages or cling to impossibly steep mountain slopes, their wooden exteriors having weathered into a dark, almost black brown, with flowers adorning their windows and balconies in the spring and summer, and deep snow covering their roofs in winter.
The narrow-gauge mountain trains which always run on time, the cows with their multi-toned bells, the cheeses and chocolates and surprisingly good wines - and towering above all, the snow-covered mountain peaks with hiking trails on their lower slopes which attract people of all ages - you want it, Switzerland has it.
Speaking of hikes, I thought I'd been invited to attend an orientation lecture for new employees at the Pro Natura centre, to also familiarize me with the local flora, fauna and giant, 23-kilometre Aletsch glacier (called "the greatest glacier of the Alps," which could provide one litre of water a day to everybody on earth for six years).
But it turned out to be a day of field orientation - which, if offered as part of a tour, might have been described as follows: "A very long walk with an early start: 8 a.m., return at 5 p.m. For reasonably experienced and fit hikers. Occasionally challenging terrain: small and large boulders, slippery roots, narrow and sometimes no trail, some steep sections, uneven glacier surfaces (two mountain guides required as well as the usual two guides).
"Pace will be set by a group of 20-year-olds learning about the environment. Occasional stops. Weather forecast: sun, rain, wind, hail, snow -requiring all your protective clothing and appropriate footwear. Bring sunscreen, food and water." Once I started, there was no turning back - even
though I had only rubber boots because I had sent on my hiking boots to await my arrival in Vancouver ahead of a trip to Alaska.
But what an experience. During my own slightly more than occasional stops I could enjoy the tiny white, purple and orange alpine flowers, catch a glimpse of a herd of deer or a solitary chamois goat, listen to the call of a cuckoo.
On to the glacier, and on went the crampons to give me the traction I needed to climb precipitous slopes and avoid deep, icy blue crevasses: "Don't think, just walk," advised one of the mountain guides. We met unexpected "wildlife" - the glacier flea which populates pools of water but avoid humans because they are too warm. We learned what happens when three glaciers merge into one. Instructor Gregor Wittwer poured custard into a slightly sloping board cut to represent the three glacial flows, then added chocolate sprinkles to represent the moraines. Afterward, he gave everybody spoons to provide a sweet finish to the lesson.
On another less strenuous day, I rode two aerial tramways to the Eggishorn lookout at 2,926 metres (9,600 feet) where, as luck would have
it, 14 alpenhorn players from all over Switzerland and their conductor had gathered to rehearse. They even finished off with an informal yodel. It doesn't get any more Swiss than that.
- News money columnist Mike Grenby is also a travel writer who teaches journalism at Bond University on Australia's Gold Coast - [email protected]
