By Tom Cook, with John Henderson
Europe for Americans often means a mix of the familiar and the fairy tale. We recognize most foods, architecture, religion, and landscapes here, but somehow at the source they feel slightly dreamlike. We savor experiences as if we had tasted them once as appetizers in the U.S., and now have the chance to indulge in the whole meal.
The “menu” on this trip included the cleanliness and order of the Swiss, alongside the style and Catholicism of Italy. This is Ticino, the southernmost of Switzerland’s 26 cantons, and the only one where Italian is the official language. The region includes clear streams, gorgeous lakes, steep hills, and snow-topped mountains.
We had local hosts. This arrangement often produces the best of all possible travel results. Going where you know people means eating at the hidden-away café, taking the road with no English sign, or understanding the invisible nuance. In our case, Arnoldo and Elena, who live in the little valley of Maggia, near Locarno, choose hiking trails and bike paths for us.
A special highlight was exploring historic stone houses in the mountains. We poked around restored villages that perfectly reflect the place they occupy, being made of the same rock that defines the alps behind them. Some nights we slept at high elevation in stone cabins known as “rifugio” or “rustico.” Since the late 18th century, generations of Elena’s family used these tight, tidy structures while grazing cows and making cheese at more than 2,000 meters above sea level.
Recently a village and state effort converted some of the cabins to huts for hikers. After long days of ridge walking with backpacks, we enjoyed hot showers and solar-powered lighting, marveling at the European priorities suggested by this proud act of preservation.
Pleasure seemed especially abundant on this trip because all of us are old friends who have shared much in life. By now both good and bad events are sources of easy conversation. We discussed work, children, purpose, and even the end of life. For whatever reason, a happy, transcendent mood blossomed and our hearts were full.
Lingering over long breakfasts of fresh bread, jams, cheese, fruit, yogurt, and good coffee, we solved in our minds many of the world’s issues. Bicycling and walking gave us time to consider our views, both outer and inner.
We ate our best dinners in what locals call grottos—small, outdoor restaurants that serve traditional meals of gnocchi or polenta. In one, the chef came out in mock protest at our ordering a cheese plate before dinner, and not after. “This is a catastrophe,” he joked about this American habit. None of us felt that the backwards appetizer took anything away from the very fresh trout, pasta, and wonderful sauces that followed.
One day we took a boat to Isole di Brissago, an ideally sited small island in Lake Maggiore that was developed as a private botanical garden in the late 19th century. Now it is a public park with a diverse and showy collection of plants from around the world, including some special hydrangea, cypress knees, and a shady fern and pine tree collection. Another time, three of us walked down a nearby road to a grand viewpoint. Along the way we saw a painted crest and a plaque dated 1942. Later we learned that this road, along with several other paths, were built by Polish refugees. Thinking about the war spurred us to ask our hosts many questions. Some still have no answers. People here in neutral Switzerland, said Arnoldo, wondered about sealed boxcars coming up from Italy in the middle of the night. These trains passed through the Gotthard Rail tunnel on their way to Germany. Sometimes moans could be heard from inside the cars.
During the final three days of our stay we conquered a three-day trek that ranks among our most breathtaking and challenging walks ever. The trail is known in Italian as the “Via Alta.” Its first section, traveling north, follows a ridge line from above Locarno. Our day began early, parking Arnoldo’s car at a friends’ office, crossing the street, getting on a funicular, transferring to a high-altitude tram and then chair lift, and finally hiking off into mountains. Where else in the world but Switzerland can you do that?We climbed up, down, and around four peaks, taking in gorgeous views that stretched to the south end of Lake Maggiore in Italy, Monte Rosa to the west, and the Finsteraarhorn above Bern. Nine kilometers took us nine hours. The altitude was lower than other parts of the Alps, or the mountains of the Western US, but we felt it.
We descended. There was a mountain lake, countless striking outlooks, and even glimpses of helicopters delivering building materials to other cabins under renovation. Arnoldo described the pilots’ ability to place a beam or a picnic table within inches of where they were needed. As we approached their town, the well-used path became a marvel of stone steps that must have been constructed hundreds of years ago.
On the hillside a few hundred meters above their house sat a small chapel. We took in a final set of views. Throughout the hike we had been intrigued to find giant crosses on mountaintops, and several kinds of religious images in unlikely places. Here we found a trinity of faces, sharing four eyes, that seemed to us particularly odd.
We were sad to leave Ticino. This lovely corner of the world had stretched and delighted us. For everything that contributed to this wonderful week, from the perfect weather to the generous hosts to the grappa di pino after dinner, we felt grateful, grateful, grateful!
