A howling wind, hard and heavy rain had sort of overdone my prayer for cool weather. But we had the right gear except for my soft, kind shoes that just let any water come in, unless it comes in the form of showers. Corrie had ‘wet weather’ shoes but they were just as generous a host as mine.
We left this large town enormously popular with Indians (they even have their own village here) and people of Chinese origin. Some theories that were put to me were that the Indians see it like a hill station in India with that chilly mountain atmosphere; while the Chinese see it as an opportunity to climb the Jungfrau mountains in the Alps which has some sort of special meaning.
My foot was getting very painful I think from the steep downhill jogs that I do so the pharmacist gave me a pad that ties to your toe to stop it slipping – brilliant, and now so is my foot and I can jog pain-free downhill again.
We had lost the path at Interlaken but knew all we needed to do was keep the lake in sight. So we kept to the main road, the wind and rain getting stronger and harder. After a long while we found a rare coffee shop. The kind cafe owner took out a map and directed us back onto the bush track. If it’s not too dangerous, these tracks keep out the wind and rain, so a bit of a safe haven at times.
The wet weather sights continued to amaze as we watched the lake become like high choppy seas, at times spraying onto the pathway. The clouds seemed to just hang – wispy strips in front of the mountains, with bulky clouds high above, and heavy mist floating near the peaks.
We had run out of shops and covered spaces; we felt lucky to come across a covered ferry wharf with a woman’s toilet. So we had nearly all the amenities of a normal cafe, except we had our BYO salad. Three times ferries interrupted our lunch, thinking (rightly so) that we were potential passengers. We waved them away after we got the message.
The Camino path wanders from the hills onto the main road, then when the terrain is suitable, it sneaks back into the bush and up into its real home. At one stage we came up a steep slippery path, crossed a busy road, and found the sneaky path looked dangerously wet.
So we stuck to the main road, sometimes with footpath, sometimes without. We set up a plan to get through the pathless parts and through the very short tunnels without danger. Eventually we arrived at our 14th sleep spot right on the lake in a huge beautiful house right on the lake. This is where we met our Italian friend from Zurich who caught a bus down to join us and clear his mind of his busy work week in Saudi Arabia.
