Before we caught the train out of Chur, we took a little walking tour of the Old Town. (Pronounce it “Coor.”) Two churches were on the agenda, but one of them was closed for visitors. St. Martin’s Church, however, was a highlight.

St. Martin’s square marks the historical north-south route through the inner city. The fountain, decorated with the signs of the zodiac, and the statue date to 1716. Much of it is still original. Also, it provides you cold water, which is a treat on a hot day like this.

Next to the fountain there’s a relief for the visually impaired, that gives a perspective on the entire city. St Martin’s is in the back of the shot, in the center of the relief. You can see the patina on the steeple.

It looks like this.

The Romanesque church was built in the 8th century, mostly destroyed 600 years later in one of those city-defining fires. Using parts of the original building, it was rebuilt in late Gothic style. It’s the largest late-Gothic church in the region. and was a critical part of the ancient town’s Reformation.

I doubt this door is original.

Wikipedia has a list of 116 churches named after St. Martin (there are five saints named Martin, our guy here is St. Martin of Tours) around the world, and this one isn’t even on the list!

After that fire, the tower was completed in 1534, complete with a watchman’s room and Renaissance dome. It stayed like that for 350 years, then got a neo-Gothic upgrade, which didn’t go over well in the neighborhood. Then came the current roof design in 1918 as part of a larger renovation. the tower was given a pointed roof as part of the church’s overall renovation.

I like the little details. This leaf is hand-carved in each of the congregations pews.

Off to the side, where musicians or choir members sit, are some other stylistic carvings.

At the end of the renovation, now 100-plus years ago, the nave received stained glass windows by Augusto Giacometti depicting the Christmas story. So these are relatively new parts of the church, still.

On the walk back to our hotel, and the train station, we passed some picture windows in the stores that had some antiques of their own. This looks like a National Cash Register (of Dayton, Ohio) Model 79, a nickle-plated number that they debuted in 1897. They’ll fetch you a pretty penny at an auction today, but what a beautiful showpiece.

Anyone want to guess what this is?

Figured it out yet?

Yeah?

No?

This is a cylindrical calculator. It will work out multiplication, division and more using graphically displayed logarithms. And if you need precision, you’re set up. This calculator is accurate to six decimal places. This is a smaller model, a 10

I’ve never seen one of those before.

You’re going to see some more sites you’ve never seen in the next post. I’ll be sharing a few of the views from our last train ride, today’s experience on the Bernina Express. Don’t miss it!

We got in one of these things today. Gondolas are amazing. But let me back up.

We took a train, and then had a short walk. And then there was the meeting with a tour guide, Rolf. A curly coiffed man of chiseled stature that should have landed him on stage. Perhaps it did! But now he is here, leading this most isolated life. Meeting people for a few minutes, giving them a sticker, telling them which bus to get on, doing 11 minutes of patter on the bus, which includes several reminders to not leave things on the bus, because we aren’t returning, and then dealing with the lady who left a diaper bag on the bus. And then he directs us to those red gondolas. And then to another, larger cableway lift. At the top of the tour, he says, in his pleasant, practiced, kindly authoritative way, “We will be meeting here at 3:30 to depart at 3:45. If you have any questions I will be in the cafeteria for about half an hour.”

You wonder what he’s eating there. He brought a sack lunch. What’s he reading? Or does he just stare out the window, dreaming of after shave smells gone by?

That’s what he looks like. He looks like a man who enjoyed splashing on that smell every day. His skin looks like it looked forward to it. There’s just no other way to say it. He would have been the 45-year-old who would have been unironically cast in the part of a 30-year-old in a 1974 movie. A bit too handsome and mature for the part. And a Hai Karate aficionado. Old Spice for the really big days.

Anyway, a few of the views going up to the top of Pilatus.

The four of us walked around up there. My bride and I went on two of the outdoor walks. Her parents appreciated the views from indoors. It’s full of rich views. As rich as the lines now gaining way onto Rolf’s face, rugged and firm as the mountains themselves. Have a look.

Pilatus’ highest peak is a modest 6,983 feet, but everything up there offers commanding views of Lucerne, below.

The descent from Pilatus involves the Pilatus Railway, named the world’s steepest cogwheel railway. We did it in 2022 and, honestly, it was better. The cogwheel had older cars, which made the gradient — at one point, 48 percent! — feel much more adventurous.
The cars were steam until the 1930s. What we rode a few years ago was from the 1970s. They were hyping the new cars on our first trip here, and something has been lost with the upgrades. It’s just another closed-air thing you can do. Then it felt — there’s not a word here, thinner, smaller, less substantial, shabbier, none of these work — like the ride itself and the machine you were on, were full of character. Now the steepness is the only character, and even that visceral feeling is mitigated by modern glass.

At the end of the cogwheel ride the lady caught up to her diaper bag. Rolf was the hero he’d always been meant to be. So was Eddie, the plucky young bus driver with the hip hair who should probably be on a beach and not a bus. We never saw him again. With Rolf, though, and that diaper bag, we all crossed the street from the cogwheel station at the base of the mountain and walked over to a boat. Here, we enjoyed a nice, quiet boat ride that completes what they call “The Golden Round Trip.” It’s a nice boat ride. The views are scenic.

But it does feel a bit tacked on to the rest of the experience.

I spent much of the time trying to stay out of the sun, and enjoying the breeze.

We had dinner at a lakeside cafe. I had some German-inspired currywurst. Quite tasty.

And then we caught the train back to our hotel. Whereby I marveled, as I do, at the everyday beauty of this place.

What must it be like to wake up each morning and see a waterfall out your back windows? Or be surrounded by these lake and mountain views each time you come home?

The human mind has a weird capacity for adaptation, but how long would it take to get used to something like this? “Ho hum. Again. Yes, yes. It’s hilly and mountainous and rugged. But I’d enjoy a change of pace. I could sure use some flat.”

I wonder if that every enters into the minds of the locals. It will surely come to my mind tomorrow. We’re riding bikes!