In an increasingly integrated Europe, border crossings seem to be a thing of the past. Crossing into the tiny principality of Liechtenstein, which is run somewhat as a region of Switzerland in areas like currency and customs, you are crossing into neutral, non-EU territory and dudes who technically might want to actually see your passport. They had no interest in seeing ours, and these two landlocked countries are part of the Schengen agreement, meaning that the surrounding countries are trusted to have already arrested all the terrorists.
Things are pretty expensive in Swiss francs. We could only spend lunchtime in Liechtenstein—some ate at the Christmas markets, others made a bee-line for the kebab-in-a-bun place we’d heard about. Yes, when in Liechtenstein, our tour manager has a little kebab place he likes to go to. Apparently the Germanic people do not eat hummus.
We then had to high-tail it to Lucerne, Switzerland, as the last lift up to Pilatus is at 4:30pm, and there is no other way to get up there. Pilatus is a mountain that would be great for skiing and all kinds of winter activities, but the bulk of it is blanketed by tall trees and protected by some kind of heritage listing that prevents them from being knocked down. Thus, apart from Swissco (a conference room they converted into a nightclub for the two Contiki tour groups on the mountain) there was sweet Fanny Adams to do up on Pilatus. We descended during the following day to Lucerne, where people bought a lot of watches, army knives, chocolate, and other Swiss accoutrements.
Lucerne is a beautiful old city divided by a river. The most historic bridge is the Kapellbrücke, a 14th century covered wooden bridge that some brat with a cigarette burned down a few years ago, requiring that most of it be rebuilt. Perhaps the lesson is that wooden bridges are not a good idea, but I guess this is a risk they are willing to take.
Smö