Swiss Playground Beneath the Stone Glacier

Zagan the motorhome’s lost for words! For the first time ever, when we parked him up he looked up and managed to utter just a few expletives, FECKING ‘ELL! Naughty Zagan! Not that we can blame him, the two of us were staring out of the windscreen, mouths open, like a couple of dumb-struck gibbons. We’ve come up high, to 2100m above sea level, and the temperature’s dropped a beautiful 10 degrees from the oven-like conditions down in the Swiss valleys. The sound of turquoise-grey glacial meltwaters sliding over smooth rock drifts in through the windows. We’re in a heavenly spot in Switzerland folks (N46.713374, E8.415487).

The sun’s strong up here, blazing through a blue sky onto the large patches of deep brilliant while snow and rock surrounding us. It’s one of those places where we can sit with a cuppa on a rock and just absorb the incredible strength, power and beauty of the world. We’re below the blue ice of the Steingletscher (Stone Glacier), at the end of a 1.5 mile road from near the top of the Sustenpass, a bonkers cliff-side road built during the Second World War which seems these days to mostly carry sports cars and endless tiny dots of motorbikes.

The route here rolled passed Interlaken which, you might not be surprised to learn sits comfortable between two lakes – the Thunersee and Brienzersee, both of which look spectacular from the road. When we dared brave the sun back at the site, we’d walked and run the streets and trails around the campsite, shaking our heads at just how perfect everything is, and that sensation continued as we drove the valley road. Our fuel gauge was down to two dots, which roughly translates to two hours of paradise driving, and given the fact we were coming up high we needed a top-up. In Spain and France we used an app to find the best deals, but I’ve been a bit lax and haven’t looked for a Swiss app, so we just gambled on what looked like a small Agrola station just off the main road. At 1.65 CHF a litre we were spending about €1.48 a litre, or about £1.33, roughly UK prices. When Ju came back from paying she was flabbergasted as the tiny shop was a tardis, turning out to be more of a hypermarket, selling everything under the sun, including agricultural supplies.

With the diesel on board we were nicely full (fresh water, food, diesel, LPG) and empty (grey and black water) and ready for a few days out in the wilderness. We were chasing altitude both for the coolness up here, and to help get our lungs ready for the big effort of running at altitude in Zermatt in less than a week. Once we’d turned east we started to roller coaster up and down through the lush green valleys before commencing the great zig-zagathon assault on the sky which is the Sustenpass. These big mountain roads always make me edgy, but they’re very well built and easily big enough for coaches twice the size we are. The hairpins are easy to navigate, there’s no snow at this time of year, the Swiss are patient drivers and Zagan’s engine easily pulls us upwards, albeit with the odd smoker’s cough of black stuff, reminding us of the dark nature of our fossil-fuel method of propulsion.

The spot we’re in is clearly well known by the Swiss and German motorhome and campervan community, as there are about 50 vehicles enjoying the various parking places along the off-shoot valley road. It’s not an obvious spot though, requiring you to drive between a hotel and cheese shop on what looks like a private road. Once past them a STOP sign is painted across the road, alongside a small ticket machine. Popping either €4 or 5CHF (both currencies are widely accepted across Switzerland) gifts you a ticket which lasts until midnight on the day after, so allows for an overnight stay. The road is a little narrow and steep in places, but easily passable when there’s no snow, probably from about May to October. On our first trip here, about seven years ago, we saw several ‘no overnight’ signs along the road and took a chance ignoring them in exchange for spending a night somewhere so magical. This time around we’ve walked and run the road several times and the signs are gone. The authorities came and checked everyone’s tickets yesterday too, making no bones about the village of campers, so we’re guessing either the rules have been relaxed, or are only enacted in winter when you could easily get trapped up here by a fall of the white stuff.

We only know about this location as a Swiss couple we met seven years ago told us we should come here, which we did, enjoying a somewhat nervous night alone in October. Snow was forecast and we half expected someone to appear in the darkness and admonish us for sleeping here. No-one did of course, the snow held off for another couple of days, and we later escaped over the Simplonpass into Italy, after spending a booze-fueled night up there with a young British couple and their lovable boxer dog (they almost got trapped up there by the snow later that day).

This time around, the place has a hugely different feel to it. There are a ton of people up here in a huge range of vehicles. We’ve never seen quite so many VW day vans, gleaming new and sporting pop-up roofs, every last one of them with a legendary backdrop, easily suitable for a TV advert or a magazine cover. There’s a collection of Landrovers, some with pop-tops, which Ju spotted had unloaded small remote-control mini-mes and gotten busy razzing these tiny landies across the patches of snow around us. There are small armies of climbers and hikers, marked out by the obvious coils of rope but also their brightly-coloured wear, a rainbow of trousers, reds, blues, yellows and greens, travelling in a vans self-converted with a wooden bed structure filled underneath with plastic boxes of gear.

One Czech couple had me intrigued as they pulled on skiing boots, so I wandered over holding a cuppa in a mug big enough they confused it for a bowl of soup! It turned out they were using ‘skins’ on their skis to hike up the snow field below the glacier (which looks almost vertical from here) and ski back down. We spent a good hour watching their tiny dots edging up the mountain, then executing rapid turns on the descent before hiking back up again. I went over afterwards and told them I’m amazed at how fit they must be, which they laughed off, telling me the snow conditions are good, with nice soft layer of snow on top of the hard stuff. There are a few 4x4s with roof tents, and one couple have gone even simpler, just chucking a blow-up mattress alongside their car and kipping under the stars. Looking at this motley lot we’re once again made aware of just how much luxury we have in our home-on-wheels, with our hot shower, TV, double bed, toilet, fridge-freezer, heating, 230V power and always-on Internet connection!

At night we’re treated to the stars, to the smooth arcing motion of satellites, machines representing humanity, both obviously and amazingly out there in space. The Milky Way is just visible, the edge of our galaxy, 100 billion stars doing a mighty good job of placing our flash of existence into perspective! The odd shooting star had me wondering if I’d just seen it, wrapped in a blanket after Ju had retreated back into the warmth of Zagan, a strange contrast after the hot humid nights in the valley. Up near the glacier I spotted what looked like two tiny windows shining out like the devil’s eyes, which is exactly what they were (windows, not Beelzebub). The Swiss have conquered this land, I think it’s fair to say, and have built a hotel up there called the Tierberglihütte. There’s no taxi or cable car to this particular spot though, come armed with an ice axe if you fancy a night up there.

Aside from star and people watching, we’ve been out running and hiking, sat outside just staring at the glacier, spotting marmots, writing, running, reading, supping cuppas and cooking, trying to drink enough water to stay hydrated and rubbing on an Olympic pool’s worth of Factor 50 to try and fend off the sun’s rays, as we know it’s deceivingly cool here with the breeze from the snow fields. We need to be in the Zermatt valley next Friday to get our race numbers, so we’ve five nights left. To the south we’ve the Grimselpass and Furkapass, both stunning places, so we might head down (and up) to them, not sure yet. A few more photos from up here folks, hope they give some flavour of what it’s like here:

Cheers folks, Jay