Ups and downs

Something’s afoot. Me.

For 3½ weeks I’ve been eschewing alcohol and chewing vegetables instead. Leafing through my vegetarian cookbook a month ago, I realised that my quarterly campaign to make a public fool of myself was long overdue. Or was I just sensibly easing my way to twice-yearly shame, on the way to a more rational annual humiliation?

This time at least, I was able to negotiate a one-month news embargo. I should have done this before. When purchasing previous metamorphoses, there should have been a nasal voice at my shoulder asking: “And would you like to include dignity protection with your transmutation, Sir?” I didn’t quite make it to the month because I want to write something about a walk I had on Saturday. I hope to continue it next weekend, and don’t want to get behind on the reports.

The Alpine Panorama Trail is number 3 of the 7 designated national trails that stretch from one of Switzerland’s many international borders to some other one. Germany and France, I think. Or is it Austria and Italy? No matter. I’ll find out. Then there are the 62 regional routes and around 250 official local trails. These are just the classified, numbered paths; there are thousands of unnumbered local tracks to act as capillaries linking and criss-crossing these arterial routes. Sorry to sound like a brochure, but this country is truly a walker’s paradise.

Which makes me wonder why I’ve not taken greater advantage of it. I’ve done plenty of local ambling — there’s a beguiling wood at the end of my road. It’s small, but  still easy to get lost in: the paths refuse to stay in the same place from one visit to the next. Then up behind my apartment block, on the other side of the A3 Autobahn is a much bigger wood with its own lake and Vita Parcours. Beyond that, the Heidi-like landscape of rolling green hills and wooden chalets that stretches on for miles. In the other direction is the the lakeside path, particularly lovely in summer when the sun spins an ethereal sheen across the surface, all the way to Zurich, just visible at the far end, about 8 miles away. The water is as clear as glass, but under the sun it finds a rich blue gloss. Add the yachts with their brilliant white sails, set against the vivid green backdrop of hills that surround the lake, and the scene gets an innocent, almost dreamlike quality — untroubled, like something you’d find in a child’s painting.

I’ve wandered through one or a combination of these places many  times, often early in the morning or on a weekend  afternoon, nervously counting down the minutes to QPR’s next televised embarrassment. But I’ve not strayed much beyond.

Then recently, I discovered the FitBit. This strip of plastic with its admonitory lights has been a good ally in my quest for healthier living as it discreetly monitors activity, weight and sleep, and generally bullies me into getting off my backside.

After 3 weeks of daily ambling round the locale, I realised I needed a break in the routine. As I’ve done many times before, I consulted the brilliant Wanderland.ch for inspiration. (Note – If you put Wanderland into Google translate, you get the curious suggestion of “migratory agricultural”. Roll the translation dice again and the more reasonable “hiking country” appears. That’s more like it.) Instead of choosing a handy local route to stretch the legs, it was clear that really, I should be aiming to walk from end of the country to the other. Sometimes the big ideas appeal more than the small ones, which explains the trouble I’ve frequently got myself into over the years.

All seven national routes look interesting, but after much calculation I finally settled on number 3, the Alpine Panorama Trail, which offered to convey me 510 kilometres, from the German border in the north east corner, to Geneva in the southwest. Of course, there’s no chance of walking the entire length, or certainly not this year, but I’ll knock out the first few stages at least, and see how far I get.

And in the spirit of my resolution to keep blog posts to less than 1,000 words, that’s where I’ll leave this one. But don’t feel too relieved – the walk report will appear tomorrow.