Sheleg! (Snow!)

As you've no doubt heard or seen by now, there was a big winter storm in the Middle East last week. I have mixed feelings about having missed the "hundred year storm" that brought several consecutive days of snow to Jerusalem. On the one hand, the city is absolutely magical in the snow - at least it was last January. On the other hand, people were without power - in blackouts - in my old neighbourhood (HaMoshava HaGermanit). And, without electricity in Jerusalem in the winter, staying warm can be a bit of a challenge. A few people have gas insert fireplaces, but many people don't. And, of course, many people who live in the mountainous regions of the Middle East -- e.g. many refugees in northern Jordan -- live in canvas tents that offer little protection from the elements. And while the snow flew in the highlands, including Jerusalem, the rains were hammering Gaza producing horrible flooding and making an already incredibly hard place that much less comfortable. Winter storms in a region unequipped to manage them (or keep people warm) brings additional hardship for many people.

Gaza - Dec 10 - photo credit - CEAHecht

I've received several photos from friends in Jerusalem so here's a few to give you a sense of what this last week has been like.


It started out with a few flakes...

Looking east to Jordan. photo credit: CEAHecht

And it kept falling

Talbiya. photo credit: CEAHecht

Talbiya. photo credit: CEAHecht

East to Jordan. photo credit: CEAHecht

Dec 17 overlooking the Old City, photo credit: CEAHecht

From 10000 kms away

Greetings from the west coast of Canada where I'm on an extended holiday and research visit. We've been enjoying an early winter of Arctic outflows, which always come as a bit of a shock to the populace. Dig out your boots and grab the snow shovel, too. The arrival of snow means there's hope I'll be on my cross country skis soon!

Even though I'm not in the thick of things right now (i.e. not physically in the Middle East), it seems that one is never far from a story about Israel. This week's story (see NYTimes) is that Jordan, the Palestinian Authority, and Israel have signed an agreement to build the Red-Dead Canal.

I think this is a terrible project. Terrible. Not because of its goals, but because of its means.

The goals of the Red-Dead project are three.

1) Alleviate Jordan's water shortage - make desalinated water 

The TOR for the project suggest tremendous optimism: they thought they could generate energy out of the scheme! No chance! The water will be piped up 1200 metres of elevation from the Dead Sea (sits at -400m) into Amman (sits at +800m). Between the desal and the 1200 metres that should use up any energy gained from piping the water down the gradient from the Red Sea to the desalination plant at the shore of the Dead Sea. 

Jordan has a major water shortage. Major. To their credit, the Jordanians have been working hard to improve their infrastructure. The leakage rates for Amman's water distribution system were something close to 50% and have been brought down into the 20% range. This is still too much leakage, but it is a huge improvement given the age of the infrastructure, the urban layout, and the topography of Amman (seven jebels (hills!) a nightmare of connections). But, really, the only part of the country that gets much rain is the northwest corner, up by the Sea of Galilee.

[ed. note: by the way - Canadian cities have major leakage in their water infrastructure too. Halifax is a leader in leakage reduction. Get this -- in 1999 (population  ~350,000)  the system needed 168 million litres of water per day, in 2011 (population ~ 390,000) it needed only 130 million. Yep, gobsmacking losses. Plug those holes!]

Jordan has a growing population both from internal factors (a replacement rate of 3.5; Canada is at 1.6) and external factors such as immigration and refugees. The point on refugees is not a small one: Jordan borders Iraq, Israel, Saudi Arabia and Syria. Jordan has accepted refugees of civil wars since it was established in 1946. The UNHCR (the UN High Commission for Refugees) estimated about 900,000 Syrian refugees would be in Jordan by the end of 2013.  This is huge stress on a country of 6.5 million people with a per capita GDP of less than $4,700. And, it puts further stress on water resources.

Upshot: No amount of conservation or efficiency is going to close the gap for Jordan. More supply is needed.

2) Top up the Dead Sea- save it from environmental degradation

If you've been reading this blog for a while, you'll remember the post from last October and the gif of the shrinking Dead Sea. Yikes! Next to nothing from the Jordan River flows into the Dead Sea. The days tick by and the Dead Sea shrinks, the shore caves into sinkholes. It's pretty straightforward and super sad.  Please, let's save the Dead Sea soon!

3) Build a symbol of peace and cooperation in the Middle East

I'm a bit mixed on this goal. Without a doubt working on relationships and sharing resources are important parts of peace and cooperation, but the "build a symbol" part makes me think an engineer wrote this.

The Plan

The "symbol of peace" is a massive piece of engineering (and some ancillary deals about water in the Sea of Galilee). A pipe goes into the bay at Aqaba in Jordan. It withdraws salt water (and the Red Sea is pretty salty, makes for great swimming) and pipes it on a downward slope to a desalination facility on the Dead Sea. Produced desalinated water is piped up to Amman and into the city's distribution network. The brine - the salty part of the Red Sea water - is sent into the Dead Sea. Major red flag right here: in the World Bank report they admit to not knowing what the brine is going to do to the Dead Sea. No idea. But, it'll be monitored so, with our typical resource management gusto, they think they can keep an eye on it and prevent damage to the unique ecosystem of the Dead Sea. Um...this is so far from a precautionary approach I'm rendered speechless. The Dead Sea is amazing and it is a major tourist attraction for both Israel and Jordan (and could be for the proto state of Palestine, too). Yikes.

The price tag on this project, when I went to the open house in Jerusalem last February, was USD 10 billion. People I chatted to then thought that the current economic climate would prevent the deal from being signed and the project going forward. The deal is signed. Whether the project gets built remains to be seen. 

If you've read this far, you're probably waiting for me to make my point. What's wrong with this project? Well, in short, I think it's early 20th century problem-solving for a 21st century problem. And, I'm not the only one. The authors of an alternative study suggested that a more incremental approach would include desalination and water transfers at the north end of the system. Israel could install additional desal capacity on the Mediterranean and pipe that water across to Amman, where the distances and elevations are less. Reclaimed wastewater or water from from the Sea of Galilee could then be sent into the Dead Sea, thus recharging it with something other than desal brine.  Such an approach has the advantage of addressing Amman's needs as required rather than building out more capacity than may be needed and leaving space for new innovations to change water demands. The authors of the alternative report also suggest water transfers from Turkey may be feasible at a future date. I have no idea about the technical aspects of any of these suggestions, but I appreciate that they offer a multifaceted approach to solving the two main challenges -- watering Amman and the Dead Sea -- in ways that seem more favourable, less expensive, more adaptable, and way less scary for the Dead Sea.

The signed deal probably gives Jordan geopolitical comfort - the entire project will be constructed in its sovereign territory. It doesn't have to negotiate anything else with the two other parties. So, in a way, the Red-Dead Canal Project may actually do less to build cooperation. Massive infrastructure may not be the best symbol of peace.

Winter in Jerusalem

Is characterized by sweaters, rain (only a few drops so far), bowls of soup, and ripening citrus fruit.

 And, bougainvillea that continue to bloom.

I think sweater weather in mid-November is pretty amazing. I have abandoned my open-toed shoes in favour of sneakers and boots, but I still mostly dress in jeans, a tshirt, and a sweater. Yesterday was the first really cold day we've had; I took an extra layer. Today it's warmed up again and the sun is shining. Amazing. Truly. The climate is spectacular.

Still, it's winter and bowls of soup are on the menu, especially kubbeh soup - an Iraqi-Jewish specialty. Here's an example of a winter lunch we had last week at Azura in Mahane Yehuda. Two bowls of kubbeh soup (a dumpling stuffed with beef and pine nuts) and a ground beef and pine nut-stuffed eggplant. (Getting the theme here?!) Plus hummus and pita of course (oddly pickles and onion were missing that day).

Lunch at Azura

In the courtyard near Azura there is a cafe packed with older men drinking coffee, smoking and playing backgammon. In a city filled with anachronisms, this is one that I worry about the future of. For how long will these old cafes and their Shesh Besh players persist? Will men of my generation be doing this in their retirements? 

Shesh Besh at Mahane Yehuda

Breathe Freely

It may be that Israel's current gas mask era is nearly over. A story today in Ha'aretz provides considerably more detail on gas mask distribution and production than I was able to obtain in August. It seems, if the Ha'aretz story is reliable, that only about 60% of Israelis have received gas masks since the state started a redistribution of them about 5 years ago. Masks already budgeted for and in production will be distributed up until March 2014. After that, it looks like gas mask distribution will stop: no funds in the 2014 national budget have been allocated to producing more masks.

Why?

Firstly, cost. Ha'aretz says it would cost NIS 1.3 billion (CAD 365 million) to outfit the remaining population (something less than 40% of the country) and an additional NIS 300 million (CAD 81 million) annually to maintain the population in masks (replacement of parts; refitting - kids grow out of theirs). I have no idea if maintenance (of the 'fleet' of gas masks) continues; if it continues while the masks are distributed and production is halted so that nearly 2 in 5 people don't have a mask; or if the state will begin to collect the masks for central maintenance.

Secondly, threat reduction. Observers report that Syria's chemical weapons store is being dismantled according to plan.

I'm inclined to think the budget is driving this decision...

Touring the North in a Fog

Keeping with the theme of autumn and cooler weather, I am at last reporting on a wonderful (if slightly epic) trip I took last February with my Swiss friend Theresa. We went west to the coast, near Netanya where we dropped our friends off at the U-Pick strawberry patch - open just in time for Valentine's Day. Then we headed north to Haifa and Acre (Akko) and drove east (inland) to the Galilee to stay the night. The next morning when we woke to fog we both exclaimed something like "Oh, I forgot about fog!" This is ridiculous considering we both grew up and have recently lived in seriously fog-prone locales.  Maybe it does get foggy in Jerusalem sometimes, but I've never seen it.

First stop - Haifa. We arrived in Haifa just before noon and drove up to the top of the hill (edge of the Carmel Mountain) to see the Baha'i Gardens and take in the view.

view of Haifa

Haifa Baha'i Gardens

We did give Haifa rather short shrift (except for the circles we made trying to get on the highway to Akko), but it was Shabbat and you have to make hay on Shabbat!

Next stop - Akko - for lunch. We ate fantastic hummus at Issa's in the main square. At the traditional (and especially at the Arab) hummus joints, it's typical for the older men (especially) to get extra olive oil added to their hummus like one might ask for freshly ground pepper. The excellent quality of even budget olive oil here explains why they ask for more.

Onto the sight seeing...

Akko

 Akko is a beautiful walled/oceanfront city in a spot that was probably inhabited as early as 3000 BC. Since then, nearly everybody has laid claim to the town because it's tremendously strategic. (The Crusaders used Akko as their toehold in the Levant on the way to Jerusalem and held out for a while against the Mamluks.) Scenes from Akko:

 We stayed in a small town in the Galilee and the next day drove east further into the Galilee.

Piki'in

 We went to Safed - one of the four holy cities of Judaism (along with Hebron, Tiberias, and Jerusalem). We didn't see much because at 900 metres Safed was shrouded in thick fog.  Driving further east we came out of the fog and enjoyed lovely cherry blossoms.

Cherry Blossoms after Safed before Rosh Pinna

Then we headed into the Golan. Eastward on the Road to Damascus -- don't worry this isn't a conversion story, it's just amazing how close these ancient places all are -- our next destination was the Hermon River (Banais Falls). Before we got there it was fog, then rain as we passed by vineyards.

 The Banias Falls Reserve is just inside the Golan territory captured from Syria...evidence of that past is abundant. Running along the road you turn off of to enter into the Banias Reserve is barbed wire fencing and signs the area is mined. 

Even in inclement weather, the Golan is beautiful, and the early spring flowers lovely.

Surface water!

Banias Waterfall

A little bit further to the northeast (and upstream) in the Reserve where the springs emerge as surface water is the Temple of Pan built in 3rd Century BC.

Temple of Pan

Water pools near Temple

We drove past Nimrod's Fortress, which actually has nothing to do with Nimrod (Noah's great-grandson) on our way to Mount Hermon. The road to Mt Hermon passes through Majdal Shams, a Druze village that services the ski population. We didn't get to Mt Hermon and it was shrouded in fog so the views were limited.

The road to Mt Hermon

Then we drove down the Golan with limited views of Syria. Along the Syrian border there is evidence of the contested nature of the territory in the form of road barriers...

That afternoon, further south in the Golan, we went for a wine tasting and stayed the night at a kibbutz. The next day we drove down to the Sea of Galillee where spring was in full force and the fog lifted. We stopped at Capernaum where Jesus is meant to have done some healing after a teaching.

Cliffs near Migdal (just north of Tiberias)

Cliffs near Migdal

 And finally, we drove down Hwy 90 through the West Bank and then west on Hwy 1 up out of the Jordan Valley to Jerusalem. A long, great weekend.

Autumn in Jerusalem

Autumn officially started for me this morning. The nights have been cool this past week dipping to 15C (I know, I know) chilling the apartment I'm staying in. I have put an extra blanket on my bed. And, I've had my heavy slippers on in the evenings to insulate against the cold tile floors. (If you know me, you know about my cold feet and love of blankets.) I even started a knitting project last night! But, only this morning when I had an early morning shower that was tepid did it really occur to me that the seasons have changed.

In summer you can count on the solar panel on the roof to give hot water on demand anytime, even in the middle of the night. Yesterday was the first somewhat cloudy day we've had (and by cloudy, I mean a day that would be described in Canada as sunny with cloudy periods, but here as cloudy with sunny periods). And, it was dusty. So, it would seem, the solar heater didn't get its usual hit of energy. Therefore my shower was not as hot as I like it it might have been. All that to say it's autumn. Tepid showers or turn the boiler on!

Courage or Conspiracy?

Okay, not exactly the neighbourhood, but in the region. 

Hats off (or hijabs?) to the Saudi women who made Saturday, October 26 a day of protest and drove themselves around flouting the national law that prohibits women from driving.

Yup, a few-several-dozens (??) (it's not clear how many) courageous ladies (who learned to drive elsewhere) got behind the wheel of a motor vehicle and drove it. In most cases not too far, but still, the very act itself is powerful. This small action day is possibly a revolutionary practice.  And it certainly (and obviously) offended religious clerics who claimed women driving is a conspiracy.  

Go Saudi women drivers!!

Dressing Bodies

On a recent average day on the interwebs I, as one is wont, came across a few stories about women's bodies, some famous, some not.  These sites I visited are typically commenting on North American or British cultural figures (since I mostly surf the web in English). These stories can be about slut shaming women or fat or thin shaming women's bodies. Basically, all this stuff seems to come down to policing women's bodies and how we use our bodies. After two stints of living in the Middle East, first in Doha, Qatar and now in Jerusalem, Israel, I'm left to conclude that body policing is ever present for women. But the feeling is different in the West than in the Middle East.

There are no commercial billboards in Jerusalem. None. Really, I know, this is hard to believe, but it's true. Not a one. No billboards means no half-naked airbrushed bodies (of any gender) staring at you as you move around town. (This is also true in Doha, but more surprising in Jerusalem because other Israeli cities do have them.) I love this. I don't feel harassed about what I'm wearing or not wearing. It's totally refreshing to shop without being told what to buy all the time. (I loved Christmas in Doha for the same reason; it was marketing free!) There's also no advertising on the buses. Although, it might be good if Egged (Jerusalem's bus company) added those ads that Translink has about don't been an idiot on the bus by wearing your headphones at max volume and crashing into other people with your backpack.

Along with no billboards is a general absence of massive commercialism. (This is unlike in Doha where people spend money like it grows on trees, cause it kinda does for them.)  In large part this is due to the low income level in much of the city. Jerusalem is poor -- many of the people and the City itself  because it has a bit of a problem collecting taxes from poor people.  In the City Centre of Jerusalem, the main shopping street is Jaffa Rd (the road you used to take to get to Jaffa at the coast). Jaffa Rd has been seriously upgraded by the installation of the LRT and it's a lovely place to walk, have a coffee, and shop. Many of the retail spaces on Jaffa are too small to interest the major global brands or chains (who often put up those big glossy billboards) to set up shop. You have to go to the big mall in the south end of the City (Malha) to find chain stores; it is destination shopping. There's a mall near the Old City, Mamilla, but it is relatively small and its outdoor design gives the illusion that you are walking through a downtown street.  (Which you sort of are because Mamilla Mall connects the Old City's Jaffa Gate to the "New" City's Municipal Hall.)

Jerusalem is a conservative, religious city. This is why there are no billboards: the Ultra-Orthodox protested against them (and they know how to protest e.g., lighting street fires, turning out en masse to rallies, etc.). At least half of the population of Jerusalem is observant religious and they dress according to religious precedent. This means you can sort people into general categories based on their clothes. Thanks to a fantastic exhibit last fall at the Israel Museum on the Haredim, I quickly learned to distinguish Orthodox and Ultra-Orthodox women on the streets of Jerusalem. Orthodox Jewish women wear long sleeves and skirts (below the knee) of all sorts. Ultra-Orthodox women wear long sleeves (usually of stripes), long skirts (black or navy) to the mid-calf or ankle, and heavy stockings (even in the summer). All married Orthodox or Ultra-Orthodox women cover their hair (hats, scarves, wigs). Ultra-Orthodox men are in black pants and suit jackets, with a white long-sleeved shirt. Orthodox men may wear khakis and a collared shirt with a tallit  (prayer shawl) underneath and the tassels hanging out. All Orthodox or Ultra-Orthodox men (regardless of marriage status) will wear kippa (yarmulke). Kippas can be useful to distinguish what sub group a man belongs to; same for the black hats of the Haredim.

I observe fewer Muslims in Jerusalem than Jews so I'm less clear on their distinctions. It seems that depending on their level of observance Arab Muslim women of East Jerusalem may wear tight clothing with or without a chador/abaya or long-sleeved ankle-length coat on top. And, many Muslim women over the age of 13 will wear hijab. But not all: Sometimes you see the jarring combination of skinny jeans, a very short tunic, and hijab. No doubt there is a good explanation for that combination, but I'd only be speculating at this point. Arab Muslim men often wear long sleeve shirts with khaki pants; occasionally I see men dressed in khakis and long shirts with a sports jacket and a kaffiya.

Jerusalem's secular population (I'm in here) tends to keep things pretty conservative while in Jerusalem. It's just easier (and frankly, safer) to move around town when your hemlines and necklines aren't pushing religious conservative boundaries. That doesn't mean that secular women dress like religious women, it just means you keep more conscious of how you dress in Jerusalem than you would in, for example, Tel Aviv.

Clearly body policing exists in both the West (North America and Western Europe and Tel Aviv, Israel) and the East (relatively more traditional Middle East), but it is different. In the East it's about wearing enough clothing to be "respectable", and "under control". It seems that men, when they see bits of the female body can be tempted to behave "badly" or something. I'm still slightly confused on this point. When I first lived in Doha, I was terrified of Sharia law. (A friend of a friend of mine was pulling all the diplomatic strings she could find to try to resolve a nasty Sharia problem on account of her having flipped the bird at an aggressive male driver. Very scary.) Every morning my routine included a quick clothing scan before I left the house: knees - covered? elbows - covered? jacket and pashmina for cover up? If that's not a form of body policing, I don't know what is. I never encountered one myself, but there were stories that in the early 2000s, the relgious mullahs used to stalk the malls in Doha (Landmark and City Centre) carrying short whips. When they came upon a Western woman they considered to be immodestly dressed they took action with the whip and, I gather a stern dressing down in Arabic. While visiting a small town in Oman toward the Yemeni border, I had the unfortunate experience of leaving my ankles exposed (and only my ankles) when out for dinner. Despite my imposing male escort, I became a major attraction (or distraction) on the main street of Salalah. I really would have done anything for an abaya and hijab that night. I envied the women wearing niqab who could just melt into the crowd.

In the West, many women will wear what they want. Not that there aren't social norms about clothing. You don't wear a bikini to the office. But, women will use clothing for personal expression, to experiment with power, to elicit a response. It seems with clothing standards relaxed, the focus moves to our body shape and size, more overtly. Western women began clothing their bodies differently (from the maillot to the bikini; long to mini skirts; turtlenecks to lowcut blouses) as part of their empowerment: revolutions in fashion parallel women's changing social roles from the war and post-war periods. I'm not sure that dressing scantily is the same expression of empowerment as wearing pants was. And, I'm left wondering if we have displaced the efforts to control our bodies through clothing to control through critiques of shape and size?

Israel Votes

Bibi's coalition is holding together so we're talking about municipal elections today. Israelis vote in municipal elections every five years.

In 2008, the somnolent secular voters of Jerusalem woke up and decided that municipal politics do matter to daily life. Actually, they probably figured that out the morning after the 2003 vote, when the failure to show up at the polls resulted in an ultra orthodox mayor in office. After five years of Haredi leadership, many secular Jerusalemites had moved west to Tel Aviv. In casual conversation people will tell you that the city lost its cultural vitality and became more divided after 2003.

Not surprisingly, voter turnout shot up in 2008. "Zionist" (*more on this below) Nir Barkat (of Yerushaliyim Tatzliah) was elected mayor with 53% of the vote. Just to give you a window on how much a vote can matter, the second place finisher, representing United Torah Judaism (Haredi), had 42% of the vote. At the time of the vote, 2008, the Haredi population was about 32% (about 250,000 people - not all of them voting age) of the city! The Zionist population was around 300,000 people, likely with more of them of voting age.  (Of course, all Canadians remember May 2011 as a good lesson in demographics and voting power, some of us more bitterly than others.)

Voting day in Jerusalem gave a festive mood to the streets as nearly every school or community centre I walked by seemed to be a voting station with folks outside encouraging citizens to vote. Over the last week, parties have been campaigning hard. On several days I was offered pamphlets on candidates or canvassed for my likely vote. It was fun to be an observer because I gather from several folks it was rather a nose-plugging vote this year.

outside a polling station

outside a polling station

campaigning on the day

Nir Barkat - who, by the way, is a high-tech millionaire, the new standard for Israeli politicians (see Naftali Bennett) - has been re-elected, winning by what appears to be about 55% of the vote. Yesterday I read his English election platform. *He talks about the three sectors of the city as Haredi, Arab, and Zionist. The first two are self-explanatory. The third struck me as odd. I thought maybe it was a translation issue, as in maybe the concept in English wasn't quite there. But, no, it turns out that is the term used for the basket of Jewish Israeli Jerusalemites who are not ultra-Orthodox. Basically, they are the tax-paying, engaged citizens of the city. The language gets so tricky here because every group in engaged in their own way, but the two other groups have much more specific agendas and live in more isolated communities.

The divided nature of Jerusalem cannot be escaped. It is perhaps both most veiled and most obvious in municipal elections. Again in 2013, it appears that Arab Jerusalem abstained from voting for the mayor. A NYT article on Monday reported that in 2008 only "2,744 East Jerusalem Arabs voted, a participation rate of 1.8 percent, compared with 60 percent in the city’s Jewish neighborhoods." This tradition of not voting is part of the Palestinian leadership's "anti-normalization" campaign that chooses to not engage with Israeli politics.

From the article:

“The whole thing is not really rational,” said Sari Nusseibeh, president of Al Quds University, whose family has 1,300-year roots in Jerusalem. “It’s not by reason that people are guided; it’s by sentiments and feelings and fears and histories.” 

There are some 360,000 Arab Jerusalemites and probably more than a third of them could vote. If they voted like the Haredim, in a block, they could have a serious impact on the city's politics. But, again quoting from the NYT article:

Alaa Obeid, 23, a student who briefly flirted with running for City Council this year on a new slate promoting the environment and women’s empowerment, said she and most other Palestinian residents rarely thought about why they did not vote. It is just not part of the culture, she said.

“In our society, it’s very important what the public thinks,” Ms. Obeid said, explaining why she decided against running. “If all these years, people have boycotted the elections, I might be in a place where there’s a risk to my future. I’ll be an outcast.”

 So, Arab Jerusalemites are once again (still) in limbo with no foreseeable improvement in city services such as garbage collection and public parks. And, no increased political leverage against settlements in East Jerusalem. Meanwhile, if the rapid transit plans of Barkat are built, the united-divided city of Jerusalem will be ever more connected by rail.

Nir Barkat's Transit Plan

The 2008 Israeli census pages I can access don't divide Jewish citizens into Zionists and Haredim. I can tell you that in 2008 about 68% of the city was Jewish and 30% Muslim, with a sprinkling of Christians.

Swiss Report

I'm back in Jerusalem, settling into the patterns of the fall semester at the University. The undergrads are back in full force, my favourite campus coffee shop is gone, and the campus cats are well fed. Before more stories about life in Israel, I thought I'd share a few pictures from my great trip to Switzerland to see my friend, Theresa. My kind and generous hosts really made sure I saw a good amount of central Switzerland from north to south.

Here's a brief tour through the Schweizer Mittelland (the Plateau part of the country that isn't all mountains) and the Alps in the central part of the country.

Basel where the weather was grey and damp

City Hall with Tram

At the market

Mushrooms!

Lucerne and its lake where the weather was splendid!

In English - Lake Lucerne. In German - Vierwaldstättersee - lake of the four forested cantons. Switzerland is a federation of cantons which are a bit like small, highly decentralized provinces with more direct democracy than you can shake a stick at. The Swiss are constantly voting. Seriously. About things like whether petrol stations can sell a particular type of sausage on Sundays. And, about other things...

Lake Lucerne

On the lake cruise (part of the SBB train system) - we were on a +100 year-old steam paddle-wheeler that drinks copious amounts of oil

view of the mid 19th century hotels

old Lucerne

old Lucerne

Theresa and Markus on one of the old covered bridges

Toward the Alps near Bern
We went hiking in what might be called the foothills of the Alps...

On the way up

A view from the top

The Alps - Zermatt and the Matterhorn

From Lenzburg (our base) we took the train to Bern and then south toward a town called Visp, the gateway to Zermatt. At Visp you get on the Matterhorn Train an older, slower train specially made to tackle the mountainous terrain. In many places the Swiss have replaced slower routes through and over the mountains with tunnels because it makes the journey so much faster. There remain a few scenic lines that will likely never been replaced with tunnels: this is one of them. The route from Visp to Zermatt is spectacular. To manage the grade the train has a cog-like mechanism in the middle that can lock on to a chain that runs through the middle of the track. The conductor slows the train to hook in and out of this chain when the grade (up or down) is sufficient to require it. (There are funiculars in Switzerland too, but those typically use a pulley system and are for shorter, steeper tracks.)

Gornergrat rails with cogs

 
Anyone who has spent any time in Whistler or Banff wouldn't be surprised by Zermatt. It's a mountain resort town with loads of stores selling souvenirs and ski gear, cafes, and hotels. Neat feature of Zermatt - all motorized vehicles are electric.

Upper Zermatt

Main Street Zermatt

Electric delivery van (of people - it's a taxi)

At Zermatt we boarded the Gornergrat Train to climb the 1400 metres to the top of the ski resort. The town is at 1620m. The views along the ride were fantastic. 

Tada! The Matterhorn!

 Am I the only one who loved the Matterhorn Ride at Disneyland as a child? When I was 8, on my first trip to Disneyland (I have an uncle who lives near Anaheim) I thought the Matterhorn was the coolest ride. And, I thought it was pretty scary on account of the Abominable Snowman with the red eyes. What was he doing in the Alps anyway? It's such a long walk from the Himalayas. Oh well, it's not like Walt & Co ever minded a little mixed metaphor, factual mashup, is it? Anyway, the real Matterhorn is breathtaking.

Views along the train ride up to the ski resort:

The train route - snow shelter ahead

Cool feature of the train - a map of the route on the table between seats

Looking down the track

 Arrived:

Elevation: High!

ETH Zurich has a research hut just a bit to the right of that green water they are studying climate change in the high alpine

at the high alpine

Yup. They really do wear those little kegs of rum (?); at least in front of the tourists!

 After Zermatt we rode the train back to Wisp and over to Interlaken. Yes, that Interlaken of backpacker fame. It's a lovely town that sits, yup, you guessed it, between two lakes. The next day we took a boat from Interlaken to Brienz (on Lake Brienz), with a stop at Giessbach hotel (that we hiked up to) for our picnic lunch and coffee and pastries.

leaving Interlaken

aboard

Lake Brienz

Lake Brienz

From Brienz we went back to Lenzburg via Lucerne. The journey from Brienze to Lucerne is another fantastically scenic route, the train cars all had observation windows (like side skylights) and the train had a cog wheel. At certain spots the train seemed to only squeeze through slabs of rock as if parking a 4X4 in a "small car only" parking stall with just a hair's width to spare.

Bern where the weather was autumnal again...

The Swiss who don't live in Bern make fun of the Bernese and their town as being slow and boring.  I wondered if the non residents were slagging Bern because it is the seat of the federal government. They are, and it's a bit true. Bern may not be the liveliest town, but it is lovely. Settlement at the old city, a UNESCO heritage site, dates from the 12th century. Unique historical features in Bern include arcades, numerous water fountains, and the Zytglogge.

Zytglogge astronomical clock

fountain with Zytglogge in background

I'm told that potable water pours from every fountain in Switzerland. That is, it's all drinkable water unless there's a sign that says otherwise!

Arcades

Old town

Bern City Hall (found in the Old Town)

Old Town

In the plaza of the Swiss Parliament I watched children and their dog play in the water fountain.

Swiss Bundeshaus - Federal Parliament

 
I spent more time in Zurich than any of the other cities, but I don't have any pictures of the city!