Letter to the Editor: Journey Update

Hi everybody.

The last update came from Amsterdam (or Campsterdam and Amsterdamp as I started to call it).

Things were a bit soggy up there so I decided to travel south to dig up some sun. But I wasn't going to skip over all of the tidbits inbetween.

From Amsterdam I hopped over to Deventer to claim my rightful position upon their throne. They were not having any of it, so I set up my tent across the river, along the west bank of the Ijssel. Once again, like clockwork, it rained but I didn't let a little drizzle get me down. I got out of the tent and enjoyed a midnight walk around town. The only place that was bustling at 2~3 am (Sunday night/Monday morning) was Deventer's tiny red light district. It made me laugh to know that even "smallsville" Netherlands has their own prostitute district.

I pulled out of town the next day. 24 hours in Deventer was enough.

So I pulled up my roots and headed into the land of historic misadventures, Germany. I didn't know where I was headed so I made the decision to enter Cologne/Köln (the latter being the German spelling. I enjoy writing the Köln because European keyboards give you the ability to write with their funny accents and über-dots (However, the z and y keys have been swapped, which becomes frustrating when i want to type, tzpe or yebra or reallz funnz))

Köln was beautiful and not as confusing as some of the other cities I've seen. When leaving the central train station you are instantly greeted with the sight of Germany's largest cathedral. "The Dom" they call it. Situated along the Rhine, the Dom is like a giant burnt cinder, collecting dust for the past 500 plus years. An impressive feat of construction and architecture that started way back in the 1200s and was finally finished in the mid 19th century.

The rest of the city was alright. There were some enjoyable walks along the Rhine, both in Köln and Bonn.

While in Bonn I saw Beethoven's house of birth and the Museum of Democratic West Germany. Back in the day, when there was this thing called the "Cold War", Bonn just happened to be the capital of a country devoted to a maintaining a "western" democratic front. While walking around their museum I realized that German history is chalked with flip flopping ideologies and depressing feuds with their neighbours. And the real kicker is that I haven't even reached the control room in Berlin.

Next stop was Heidelberg. I was hiking up this one mountain across the river from the old ruins of the Heidelberg castle, when I stumbled across a plaque featuring an drawing of the landscape. I recognized this crude map from one of my history books dedicated to teaching the religious reformation of Europe. I loved it. I was able to put a name to a face and a face to a name.

Later that night I walked past the old church and heard beauty calling from behind thick stone walls. I entered God's sanctuary and paid €1 to catch the last 15 minutes of an organ concert. It was brilliant beyond belief. The air vibrates with sound and your soul is washed in some unknown holy beauty all while basking in the stained glass glow.

But this is not enough to settle my bones in one place. No. I have to keep travelling.

I activated my Eurorail pass and requested to go to Bern, Switzerland, but the final destination of the train said Interlaken. This was where I expected to end up a little later down the road. So I cut Bern out of the picture. As I passed along the sleepy Swiss capital I told myself "some other time".

I was headed to the "adventure capital of Switzerland", possibly even the world. Interlaken is a perfect cross between two British Columbian hotspots: Penticton and Whistler. The town is situated between two beautiful margarita coloured lakes and all around are grand mountains. The town is infested with Australians and other thrill seekers. I was just happy to get back to the mountains and trees. Good weather as well. I managed to do a wonderful hike up to the peak of Harder Klum. The Swiss will put a chalet at the top of every mountain if they could, and they usually do.

At the moment I am just south of Interlaken in the small, small, small village of Gimmelwald (or as I like to call it; Heaven).

I can just sit and do nothing in this small alpine village and it still feels like something. My hostel is on the cliff across from the impressive Jungfrau mountain range. Every photo belongs on a postcard.

Today will be dedicated to hiking and finding food. The closest store is a 20 minute walk up hill to Mürren or a 3 minute gondola ride. I haven't paid for public transportation since I was camping 20 minutes outside of Amsterdam's city centrum. As long as I've got two legs I will continue to take the long road.

So, its time for me to head up hill for breakfast....

Adios from Switzerland,
Matthew J. Van Deventer