Candles burned at the tables and logs blazed in the fireplace and the food was simply wonderful. Were I young again, I would return to this magic place with a pretty girl and I would sip wine and stare into the girl's eyes until only embers remained of the fire. Well . . . the impossible dream. Eighty miles southwest of Zurich, Kandersteg is that fairy tale village that comes to mind whenever one dreams of gingerbread houses and glacial rivers, along with the ringing of cowbells in springtime as cattle are led to alpine pastures, returning in the fall when Switzerland is a bouquet of autumn colors. From Kandersteg we bicycled down a narrow, twisting road, descending into a pristine valley cut squarely in two by a glacial river.
Wildflowers spread themselves across meadows and bird songs interrupted the noontime silence.
In this entire valley there are but three inns, one with no electricity whatsoever, so that in the evening guests dine in the yellow glow of kerosene lamps. Returning to Kandersteg, we took a train to an ancient village on the other side of the mountain where cattle and sheep wander through the streets of Kippel and the mists of waterfalls are blown by the wind onto centuries-old houses, along with a church so old no one knows its age for sure. Afterward we pedaled beside the Aare River to Lake Brienze where we ate our lunch and then boarded a steamer that delivered us to the castle-like Giessbach Hotel, site of the legendary Giessbach Falls that thunder from a towering mountain, veils of spray filled with rainbows as the water surges furiously toward the lake. Said to be the most beautiful waterfalls in Europe, they draw legions of tourists and honeymooners to this Old World hotel. After stopping for coffee on the hotel terrace, we bicycled to Iseltwald, a lakeside village about an hour's journey beyond Giessbach where we reboarded the steamer for Interlaken.