The Iconic Mountains of Lucerne
Rigi and Pilatus
Lucerne is surrounded by mountains. Two stand out: Hausbergen (literally ‘house mountains’, prominent mountains or hills in the immediate vicinity of a village, town or city) Pilatus and the historic Rigi. One towers high amidst rugged rocky peaks, while the other is friendly and gentle. We can’t choose, so we do both. Without a second of regret.
From the quay in the heart of Lucerne, the boat departs for Vitznau and the valley station of the Rigi-Bahn. The weather is fickle. After a brave attempt to stay on the outer deck, I rush back inside the cabin to warm up with a hot chocolate. The mountain world and the smooth, dark water glide by. On the shore stand beautiful old villas. Sometimes swallowed by a village, other times standing stately alone in a spacious park.
On board, I have a quick chat with Diana, one of the deckhands. She tells me she loves her work on Lake Lucerne: ‘Every day on board is different. The water, the mountains, the sky, the people, the bustle. You never know what to expect in the morning. And yes, I still see the beauty of the landscape.’
‘Every day on board is different. The water, the mountains, the sky, the people, the bustle. You never know what to expect in the morning’
Disembark and transfer. It’s just a few steps to the valley station of the little train that goes up to the Rigi. When it was built in 1871, it was Europe’s first cog railway, a revolution in technology. Before that, visitors went up on foot, in sedan chairs, with donkeys and carriages. In 1860, the village of Weggis had thirty stables with a thousand horses. In 1868, Queen Victoria rode up on horseback. She wrote in her diary: ‘We are amused!’
The Rigi has always remained a popular excursion. Even now. Young, old, families, solo travellers, locals, people from the other side of the world. The Instagrammable spots at the top attract a remarkably large number of visitors who are dressed more fashionably than functionally or for the outdoors. In any case, the little train chugs its way upward, revealing more of the view with each moment. First, the peaks above, then Lake Lucerne below.
The train stops at Rigi Staffel, a plateau with a few ski lifts, winter walking trails, and restaurants. Some passengers get off to enjoy a day out here. I stay on for the final stretch to Rigi Kulm, the highest station. The palace hotel built here in 1875 had three hundred rooms, two restaurants, a billiard room, a reading and music salon. It was open from late June to mid-October. The First World War ended its glory days.
This hotel is no longer there. It was demolished in the 1950s, with as much material as possible reused for the construction of the smaller, more compact, and modern Rigi Kulm Hotel. The atmosphere is just as international as it was then. I hear German, French, Spanish, Japanese, English, Dutch, and something Eastern European I can’t identify. Enthusiastic photos are being taken on the terrace. Instagrammers in completely inappropriate clothing brave the icy wind. All for ‘the gram’.
The wooden houses are small, the train is small, the roads, trees, signs. Everything in this vast mountain world seems to be made to pocket size
After a break with a view and a short climb to the summit at 1,797 metres, I decide to descend mostly on foot. Slowly. Through a model railway landscape – almost literally. The wooden houses are small, the train is small, the roads, trees, signs. Everything in this vast mountain world seems to be made to pocket size.
Except for the view. From this spot, you could see 125 named mountains, plus 13 lakes. The fact that the Rigi has been called the ‘Queen of the Mountains’ for centuries is probably due to a misinterpretation. The word Rigi likely doesn’t refer to the Latin regnum (kingdom) but to an old Swiss-German word describing the mountain’s appearance, with its stripes of grass and rock.
Along the first part of my descent, there are still a few other hikers. Two Asian guests even in sneakers. They must have soaking wet feet by now. The further down I go, the fewer people I see. Most stop at Staffel and take the train back to the valley station from there. I linger a bit for a short break and then continue walking. Alone, in silence, carefree. I just need to make it to Vitznau in time for the last boat back to Lucerne.
Dragon Mountain Pilatus
With the first gondola, I leave the city behind. Higher and higher. Less and less green, palm trees, and spring. Until it’s winter. The last part of the journey is in a new cabin with enormous windows. Beautiful, because the view is already spectacular. Gliding between the rock walls, past ravines and jagged peaks. Breathtaking is an understatement.
What an entrance. To the right, I see a chapel built in an impossible spot. To the left below, I catch occasional glimpses of Lake Lucerne, lit by a cautious sun. It felt like spring earlier in the afternoon down there, with full terraces and walkers with their jackets open, sometimes even in hand. At the top, the mountain station of Pilatus awaits, a collection of peaks with Tomlishorn as the highest: 2,128 metres.
Until the late nineteenth century, few people wanted to visit this place. Especially not locals from Lucerne and the surrounding area, who had grown up with Pilatus as the enemy, complete with stories and legends about Pontius Pilate and a host of dragons. Now, it’s one of the most popular excursions. Thanks to modern lifts, it’s also a very accessible way to experience the high mountains, something Switzerland has a knack for. Cable cars and little trains to exceptionally beautiful places.
Once at the top, nature immediately reminds you who’s in charge. On the other side of the mountain station, an icy wind howls. This partly explains why it’s so quiet here. Also, the last lift down has already left. Everyone who’s still up here is staying the night. And it’s a modest number. I take my luggage to my room in the historic Berghotel Pilatus-Kulm, dating from 1890, and head back outside. I don’t want to miss the sunset.
A staircase leads to a viewing platform. I hold on tightly to the railing as the wind pounds against the ice and rocks. The view is vast. On one side, you can see the legendary Eiger, Mönch, and Jungfrau peaks. On the other side, all the way to the Jura. And below, lakes reflect the last light of the afternoon. I find a spot where the wind can’t reach me and am completely alone in an overwhelming mountain world. You can’t feel much smaller than this.
The sunset is eventually smothered by low clouds. Disappointing? Not at all. The sky turns pastel against a backdrop of increasingly black rocks. The darker it gets, the more menacing the mighty cliffs and deep, bottomless chasms become. I’m already curious about tomorrow’s sunrise.
The view is vast. On one side, you can see the legendary Eiger, Mönch, and Jungfrau peaks. On the other side, all the way to the Jura
Dinner is served in the Queen Victoria Hall, named after the British queen who came up here on a little donkey in the late nineteenth century to find solace and peace after the death of her husband. The hall is almost exactly as it was then. The floors, wooden panelling, chandeliers, and decorated ceiling. It’s remarkable to eat so elegantly in such a wild mountain world: from ricotta ravioli with spinach to baked cauliflower pralines with a mushroom cream, and roasted sweet potato with a vegetarian herb jus…
The next morning, I’m outside before sunrise. It’s bitterly cold. The day starts without haste. A thin strip of orange slowly grows brighter and wider. Until the first rays of sun kiss the highest peaks awake while it’s still almost night below. The sky changes colour by the minute. I’m the only one on the platform. Perhaps the other guests are watching this show from the warmth of their rooms. But that way, they’re missing the beautiful interplay between sun, mist, ravines, rocky faces, and icy snowfields.
When the first day-trippers arrive, they’ll be thrilled by the unparalleled view and the proximity of the raw mountains. But I know they’ve missed the best part.
Accessible Peaks
Around Lucerne, several mountain peaks are easily accessible. Besides Rigi and Pilatus, there is, for instance, Titlis in Engelberg, with a mountain station at 3,020 metres high! Take a deep breath and enjoy the view.