August 27, 1992

73 km through Basel to a forest spot near Langenbruck, Switzerland.

The heavens put on another tremendous lightning, thunder, wind and rain storm again last night. It was fortunate that I had slept in the hut because the forest and roads were littered with branches and fallen trees. This storm lasted three hours with the continuous, flash-bulb type lightning (i.e. steady flashes of light, punctuated by blinding bolts and thunder that shook the building). It was a wonderful light show which I was able to watch from the window of my hut.

I crossed the border into Switzerland about 9:30 and didn't realize that I had done so until I saw a phone booth requiring Swiss Francs. I had been riding through Lorach when I turned a corner and saw a sign saying "Zoll", and a man in a uniform who just nodded as I rode by. I thought it was a customs booth for German trucks, but it apparently was the border.

I stayed in Basel for a few hours and picked up a second hand Swiss map for two francs. Basel is a beautiful city situated on a series of hills. Since it borders both Germany and France, it was hard to determine what language to use. Most signs were in German (although some were spelled differently) and most of the language I heard spoken was German. In some stores I heard some clerks speaking German while others spoke French. Must be a strange place to communicate. I found the prices to be high, but nowhere near as high as I had been warned. They were certainly lower than Sweden and Finland.

It was sunny and warm today and I worked up a good sweat as there were four long climbs. The most difficult was a 7 km climb out of Basel, during which I was forced to walk the final kilometer. I had a rough time finding a free camp site because the forested terrain alongside the roads is very steep. It is no fun pushing an 80 pound bike up a 30% grade. The spot I eventually settled on is on an angle and very bumpy--one of the worst I've had on the whole journey.

I called Markus in Rickenbach but his phone was not in service. Apparently he and Beatrice are still in Scandinavia. Oh well, no free shower tomorrow, the sponge bath will need to do.

I passed the 10,000 kilometer mark today.

August 28, 1992

90 km to a forest outside Kleinbosingen.

I heard that bizarre snorting of a large animal again last time. This is the third time I have heard it. It was about 25 meters from my tent (I could hear it walking in the leaves). It sounded angry about my presence, but eventually wandered off, snorting the whole while. I also had a tough time sleeping because of the incline of the ground I was on.

I was in a mood to really cycle today, just for the sheer joy of it. I selected a route which seemed relatively flat and I was not disappointed. Over 80% of the ride was on flat terrain where I could work up a cadence. It was wonderful cycling, although not terribly scenic (a thick pall of smog or haze obscured the Alps in the distance). I cycled through primarily farming and industrial (paper and cement) areas today. I was confused by the language again as people seem to speak a combination of French and German.

The day was sunny, hot and humid and so I worked up a healthy sweat. A lot of the riding was on sign-posted bike routes while other portions were on "wanderweg" (hiking) paths. The hiking paths were posted with distances stated in time rather than kilometers.

I picked up a copy of the Swiss national newspaper today. There were two pages of telephone sex ads as well as a half page of ads for prostitutes. I enjoyed reading the full page of explicit personal ads.

I had no appetite today, and ate about half my normal diet. I have become a bit sick of bread and cheese, so I didn't have any. I figured that I could find fruit along the route, but unfortunately none was accessible.

August 29, 1992

68 km through Montagny to a forest spot outside Fey.

A very tough cycling day. Cool with on-and-off rain and 20 mph headwinds from 10:00 to 4:00. The terrain consisted of rolling hill farm and forest land. I am definitely in the French speaking part of Switzerland now. The houses have the brownish/gray masonry typical of the French towns. Many of the villages have combination barn/houses where the dairy cows are kept in one side while the family lives in the other.

I had to wait out three rainstorms during the day, twice in the forest and once at a post office in Courtion. It is not a pleasant experience to sit huddled and shivering under a tree waiting for rain to stop. Equally unpleasant is cycling into a strong headwind while it is raining. So I was quite miserable much of the day.

Some of the sounds of Switzerland: 1) constant gunfire--during the last two nights I slept within 200 meters of someone shooting a rifle--at least 1,000 rounds per night! During the day I frequently hear gunfire in the distance, often from two or three different sources; 2) ringing church bells, which are frequent, loud and prolonged; 3) cowbells that can be heard from 200 meters away. Whenever I am near a herd of cattle I can hear the constant jangle of these bells.

I saw a lot of Swiss soldiers and military equipment today. This included anti-tank barriers in some fields. This is the most militarized country I have ever been in.

The headwinds have stopped, only to be replaced by a steady dripping rain. It will be an uncomfortable damp night in my tent tonight.

August 30, 1992

83 km along Lac Leman to the youth hostel in Geneva. Another day of strong headwinds, but at least it is sunny. I decided at the last minute to go into Lausanne, which turned out to be a gorgeous French city located on the hills overlooking Lac Leman. The outlying areas reminded me of the nicer parts of San Francisco, although the central core was distinctly European with cobblestone streets and many pedestrian malls.

From Lausanne I followed Lac Leman towards the southwest. My map was inadequate for this region so I was never quite sure where I was. About half of the next 60 kilometers were on nice bike paths beside the lake, while the remainder were on back roads or the main north-south highway. Regardless of the headwinds, it was a very pleasant ride. The lake was clean and glistening in the sun. You could see the French towns on the opposite shore as well as the snow-capped peaks of the French Alps.

When I arrived in Geneva I decided to go to the youth hostel regardless of the cost, as I needed both a break and some social interaction. The hostel is thoroughly modern with all the amenities (i.e. hot showers, TV room, commons room). I got a room with two Canadians, two Arabs and another American. I then went for a stroll around the city and was impressed by the cosmopolitan nature of it. Not since London have I been in a city that had such a wide variety of peoples.

When I got back to the hostel, I got into a long conversation with Paul, my American roommate. In his early 30's, Paul is a graduate student in California who is traveling around Europe on a Eurail Pass. He had recently traveled extensively in India by car and so I peppered him with questions. He told me that there was an excellent road from Bombay to the southern tip, and that he had heard that this road extended north on the east coast as well. Paul said that the tropics started 100 miles south of Bombay. He confirmed that Indians drivers often do not use their lights at night, but said that they did this because they needed a broad perspective because of all of the activity around the roads. Lights would create tunnel vision and would therefore be more dangerous. In Paul's opinion, the Indian drivers were very defensive in their approach.

Paul is working on his master's thesis while he is traveling around Europe. He is attempting to tie several theories together into an umbrella theory based on neural response. He believes that all thoughts and behavior are based on stimulus-response, and that if you attack the stimulus with the appropriate chemicals you can prevent pathological thought or behavior. A real B.F. Skinner nut. He struck me as another American with a simple minded solution to an unsolvable problem.

I have really taken a liking to the French-Swiss. The women are dark and exotic, while the men are slightly wild looking. The clerks are unfailingly polite ("Bonjour, Monsieur", "Merci, Monsieur"). I like the sound of the French language. It is so melodic after the harshness of German.

A lot of stores were open today (Sunday). Surprisingly, the bakeries were also open. This is a welcome change from the northern countries.