Redefining "Going on a Walk"

In Switzerland there is rarely such a thing as a short walk. Usually lasting about an hour at the least and usually including a hill or climb of some sort, this is what the Swiss mean when they say, 'Let us go on a short walk.' And so my father, Hannah, and I set out with the Roman ruins called Wartau in mind as our destination, which wasn't "too" far away. I had walked to Wartau from a different starting point a few years ago and it had ended up being about a 3 hour trip, so I was not sure what this walk entailed, nor if we would really get to Wartau or not from where we began.

We started out with umbrellas in hand because it had been raining on and off for a while that morning, and it did sprinkle a little at first, but then the sun came out and the weather was pleasant for a walk. We continued through the town and found a path that went in the direction of the ruins, passing fields, farms, houses and wild flowers. At one point we saw a bench tucked away a little bit off the path, all of us commenting on how it would be the perfect place to sit with a significant other and rest a spell.

On we trekked, occasionally stopping to take pictures of the beautiful scenery around us. We walked through a town where my grandparents had gone to school and sat to rest for a moment. Then determining to go on, we walked further, the sun still shining. At one point after this town, we came to a fork in the "Wanderweg" and decided to pick the path to the right, which led us on to an adventure that we would not have expereinced had we picked the path to the left.

The path to the right took us along a main road for a while and as we went around the bend in the road we saw Wartau sitting on top of the hill beckoning us to find a way to its stone walls, but we could not see a clear path to its shelter. My dad decided to cross a field (with no path through it, mind you) and see if there was a path across the bridge and behind a hedge of trees. After a few minutes he whistled to let us know we should follow him. Hannah and I hurriedly walked through the field with a bit of fear that we might be caught by a farmer, quickly crossed the bridge, and finally found my dad among some farm houses. We followed a path, but it started to lead away from our intended destination, so we doubled back and my dad boldly went up to ask some farmers if we could walk through their fields to get to what looked like the path leading to the ruins. They agreed and as we walked through the field, I thought "only in Switzerland," which may or may not be true.

We reached a path after trekking through the field. To the left the path went down the hill, and to the right it led to a vineyard - still no direct path to the ruins, although we were getting closer. We thought we saw a path leading to the ruins above the vineyard, so we decided to turn right and go through the vineyard, hoping that it was owned by the farmers who so graciously let us walk through their field. Going through the gate that led into the vineyard, we ascended the hill, weaving though the rows and rows of growing grapes, getting closer to Wartau and hoping we would reach the path that would lead us there. At the top we thought we might have to jump the electric fence, but one of us spotted an upper gate, through which we could exit.

This led us to another path, again to the left the path leading down aways and to the right leading upward, the Wartau looming above us. We turned again to the right, but soon that path led downward to the next town. So we stopped, took some pictures with the Wartau above us and essentially said this was as far a we could get because we could not find the direct path up to the ruins and so decided to head home at that point. It was discouraging to have come so close and yet not have reached our intended destination.

We walked sadly down the path, walking down the path to the left of the vineyard, all of the sudden coming upon the true path up the hill to Wartau. It cheered us considerably, and after about five minutes more we finally made it to the Roman ruins with quite an adventure behind us and a beautiful view of the valley before us. It felt so good to have reached the ruins after all the wrong turns leading to the wrong paths. We took lots of pictures inside the stone ruins, observing the number of floors that would have been in this fortress from the holes where the beams of wood once held the floors together and made this place liveable. Outside, the view was beautiful. It had snowed on the tops of the mountains surrounding this valley and some of the clouds were still lazily resting on the peaks. The valley below was green and peaceful.

After a bit of rest from the hour and a half walk to get to the ruins, we started home, this time taking a more direct route down the hill passing though the town near Wartau. We decided to take another route home (following some signs that pointed in the direction of our town). At this point it started to sprinkle again, so we were again glad to have brought our umbrellas and thankful for the sun that had been with us up until this point. As we journeyed home, we came upon the spot where we had encountered the fork in the road, this time coming from what would have been the path to the left. We realized that had we taken the path to the left we would have found Wartau much faster, but without the adventure of trekking through fields and vineyards. By the time we got back, my legs were tired and I was ready to sit for a while, but I sure would not trade the experience of yet another Swiss “walk” and the adventure of trying to get somewhere without any directions.