Day Fifteen - Black Forest

Luckily the hangover gods have had mercy on us. That's good because we need to put together a plan for getting to Murren, Switzerland while cutting through the Black Forest. After a bit of research it's decided Triberg is the town for us. It adds 3 hours to the drive but as we will find out, well worth it.

However, any notion of getting an early start is soon squashed by one simple stop at a gas station. So far the one place you can rely on to accept credit cards has been gas stations. So we fill up (you fill up first) and Jacob goes inside to pay. Turns out, this gas station does not in fact accept credit cards. and we have no cash on us (always have cash!). So he must leave his phone with the clerk as collateral then we drive around looking for an ATM. We get lost. We get stressed. We take wrong turns and almost hit pedestrians. We lose a lot time. The breakfast I bought gets completely cold and we throw it away. We do eventually find the ATM, get the cash and get on our way but it will go down as one of the more challenging mornings of the trip.

The drive is naturally gorgeous and all the other adjectives for gorgeous. We start seeing snow as we move higher up. The rest stops have to be mentioned. They are luxurious and clean complete with salad bars, bakeries and little robots that clean the toilets, seriously. I guess that's why it costs 1 Euro to use them.

So one of the selling points of Triberg was the Triberg waterfall, one of the highest in Germany. We get to the entrance of the falls and ... it's closed. Apparently conditions are dangerous or maybe someone caught wind of how much we wanted to see these waterfalls either way we decide to try

our luck at another entrance to the falls, blocked off as well.

I decide to climb the fence just to see what could possibly be so dangerous. Jacob hangs back and convinces me to return to the car so we don't get a citation by the park police or Black Forest soldiers or whoever. Bummed but not defeated we head into town. Triberg is the epitome of quaint. Typical gingerbread, fairytale buildings with trickling ravines flowing through the town from the Triberg waterfall.

We stop into the Haus der 1000 Uhren (House of 1000 Clocks) where every inch of wall space is covered in handcrafted cuckoo clocks (even a pug clock!). What catches our eye though is the handcrafted steins. We can't pass up the opportunity to purchase a Germany themed limited edition stein.

Time for lunch, down the street is Landgasthof Zur Lilie. This restaurant is situated right next to the ravine and claims to be the birthplace of Black Forest cake. The decor is magnificently German. We are seated next to a fireplace, the ceiling black with soot. You can picture crowds through the centuries swaying, singing in unison and raising their glasses. I get the Black Forest Ham, Jacob goes for the bratwurst. We finish off with the Black Forest cake of course and it's a delight.

We could have spent many more hours, even days here but we still have far to go to reach Murren so we get back on the road. But along the drive we see a perfect spot to park and venture into the forest. We park and trudge through thick snow further and further in. Sunlight ribbons through the tall fir and pine trees as sunset approaches. You can't help but think of all the dark fairytales inspired by the region. It was dead quiet except for the sounds of birds.

We cross into Switzerland as the sun sets. In the darkness I can barely make out the outlines of mountains and I know it must be beautiful in the daylight. Our destination is the Bergbahn Lauterbrunnen–Mirren - station. This is the mountain railway system that will get us to Murren as Murren is a car-free village. We pull into the station and as we are taking our parking voucher we happen to read the posted signs with departure times.

The last train to Murren leaves in 10 minutes.

A chill of panic sets in. The next train after this one isn't until 5 am the next morning. We haven't parked, we haven't purchased tickets, we don't even know where to catch the train at. I say flatly "There's no way. We can't catch it." But we still try. We park and in a frenzy we grab all our possessions, throw on our huge backpacks and run.

We run from the parking garage and up stairs and with adrenaline pumping I somehow manage to purchase two round trip tickets from the machine. We run some more. We make it to the platform with one minute to spare. Doors are closing. We stand there in amazement trying to catch our breath. One lone passenger is in the cable car with us, cooly clinging to his ski gear, scrolling through his phone.

We take a cable car straight up the mountain then a train even further up the mountain. Thankfully we have the cover of darkness because as we will find out on our return trip down, we are really really high up, dangling by a wire over the mountains.

We are dropped off at the end of the town and the train pulls away. Still hot from panic we start walking to our hotel. The only sound is our own huffing and the crunch of snow beneath our feet. There are no people in sight. The stars are brighter than I've ever seen before. We make it to our hotel around 9:00 pm. The front desk is closed but there is a lone brass key under our paperwork sitting on the lamp-lit front desk.

We walk up to our room, drop our bags, open the window and are met with a sight of the Swiss alps that I can only describe as flooring. I stopped mid-sentence and just said "Look at this."

We spend the rest of the night sipping whiskey and coming to terms with just how close we came to having to sleep in the car. I keep returning to the window to gaze at the view. I wash my underwear and socks in the bathtub as I have completely run out at this point then fall fast asleep, thankful we are not sleeping in the car tonight.