by Diccon Bewes
Decades after Dr Beeching cut such lines in Britain, the Swiss still regard them as an essential part of the national infrastructure, no matter if they aren’t so well used. The crowded routes bring in the cash to subsidise the less-used ones so that the whole network survives. All very forward-thinking, anti-Darwinian and anti-capitalist to someone brought up on privatisation for profit. For the Swiss it’s local services for local people, and occasionally the odd tourist, to ensure that no community is left off the transport map. To achieve that goal there are buses as well, designed to complement the railways, not replace them. A spidery network of 798 routes with over 2100 Postbuses, all of them bright yellow, carries 121 million passengers a year11 to places the trains can’t reach. But, this being Switzerland, the timetables are coordinated, so that passengers can change quickly from train to bus and back again. The Swiss make it all look so simple, as if that’s the natural order of things. As if that’s the only way public transport should be.
Such coordination is only possible because the Swiss plan the whole system as one. Every December, usually on the second Sunday, the new national timetable comes into effect and lasts for a whole year. Local, regional and national train services are all integrated, along with the bus network, so that connections are linked and waiting times reduced. You can find out an exact timetable for any trip anywhere in the country, even if it means using three or four different types of transport. Enter any two points into the SBB website and up comes a full itinerary, complete with connection times and platform numbers, no matter if that includes trains, boats, city trams, local buses or cable cars. What is more, you can buy one ticket to cover the whole journey, regardless of how many different operators are involved. Alongside SBB there are various regional companies, the Postbus, private mountain trains and local transport in every city. Numerous operators, one system. Not only is that more efficient, it’s so much more customer friendly.
But that’s not all. As well as the Swiss services from SBB and others, there are international ones run by railways from neighbouring countries. These all go through Switzerland, but can be used like any other train without reservations or restrictions. You might catch a German ICE from Basel to Interlaken or a French TGV between Bern and Neuchâtel. It doesn’t matter if they’re going on to Paris or Innsbruck, or coming from Hamburg, while they’re in Switzerland these international trains are integrated into the national timetables. What’s mundanely normal to the Swiss can still be rather exciting to others. For me the 20-minute ride from Bern to Thun is far more interesting in a German train, knowing that since it left Berlin seven hours previously it crossed most of Germany. This sense of wonder is helped by German trains being astoundingly long and having carriages with corridors and compartments. These may look modern but somehow they feel deliciously old-fashioned, like being on the Hogwarts Express or an extra in The Lady Vanishes.
PAYING THE PRICE FOR PERFECTION
The remarkable thing about Swiss trains is that, unlike Star Wars prequels and new John Grisham novels, they live up to their reputation: they are clean, comfortable, expensive and nearly always on time. As we know, 4.2 per cent of Swiss trains are late, warranting loudspeaker apologies and the delaying of connecting services. Usually the only things that keep better time than the trains are the watches, most of which are Swiss, but even this rail network has bad-hair days. Luckily, they are as rare as a Swiss declaration of war. A while ago a power cut crippled the whole network for a day, an inconceivable catastrophe for a country used to reliable public transport. That evening’s extended news carried pictures of crowded platforms and trains stuck on bridges, while interviews with bewildered commuters and harassed officials added to the air of incredulity. Watching it, you’d be forgiven for thinking the world had ended; in Swiss terms, it had. Of course, all affected customers got a refund.
The one uncomfortable thing about Swiss trains is the price, which is invariably high, though the Swiss always believe that you get what you pay for: quality costs, and in this case it’s true. To offset this pain, for 165Fr (about £110) anyone can buy an annual railcard that gives half-price fares across the entire country, including all trains, buses, boats and city transport. Three return trips between Bern and Zurich and it’s paid for itself. No wonder over 2.35 million half-fare cards are currently in use,12 and not only by people in Switzerland. For many regular visitors from abroad the card is a worthwhile investment and the best way to make Swiss trains more affordable.
At least normal Swiss tickets tend to have one price. Simple as that. No advance off-peak network saver anytime complications to get your head round. Buying a ticket two weeks or two minutes before your trip makes no difference, and you can catch any train at any time. No compulsory reservations13 and no fines for being on the wrong train. But there are signs that this is slowly changing, and it’s not always popular. In November 2009 the Federal Councillor responsible for transport dared to suggest that commuters should pay more because they take trains at the busiest times of day. Cue howls of protest from all quarters. More successful was SBB’s introduction of cheap tickets on the internet, where you book a specific train at a much lower price (and still use your half-fare card). This appeals to the Swiss love of forward planning as it’s perfect for those who know they want to catch the 13:34 to Geneva. Of course, peak times are rarely offered and you have to catch the train you booked, so no rush-hour trains or last-minute change of plans.
For Swiss travellers there’s a clear choice at a national level: pay the full price, have a half-fare card (and so logically pay half price) or invest in an annual pass that covers the whole country. Known as a GA, short for Generalabonnement,14 it includes all forms of transport, from local buses to longdistance trains. Fancy a boat trip on Lake Geneva, then that’s included, as are a day-trip to Ticino or exploring Zurich by tram. The only exceptions are most mountain trains and cable cars, which are merely half price with a GA.15 That’s because mountain services are there for pleasure, either to go up and enjoy the view (for tourists) or to bring you down after you have walked up (for the Swiss). There’s no logical reason for them to be part of the GA as no one lives up there permanently. Conversely, every Swiss town and village is connected to the transport network in some way, even if it’s only by cable car in the case of cliff-top Mürren in the Bernese Oberland, so it’s covered by the GA.
All this travelling freedom comes at a price. A 2nd-class GA costs 3350Fr a year, or 5350Fr for 1st class,16 though both are cheaper if you’re over 65 or under 25, or if you buy two together as partners. That price hasn’t stopped the Swiss becoming very attached to their GAs: over 5 per cent of the population has one.17 They even inspire some very un-Swiss spontaneity of turning up at the station, getting on a train and going anywhere you fancy. And in terms of value for money it’s actually a good deal: for that 3350Fr, or about £2300,18 you get the whole country; for the same price you only get zones 1–7 in London.19
The GA is such a good idea that you can also buy one for your dog. It’s not as ridiculous as it sounds since, unless it is under 30 centimetres high and can be carried as hand luggage, a dog has to have a ticket to travel on a train. Dogs must pay half the standard fare, or at least the owner must, and be accompanied; no Lassie adventures allowed. Since they need a ticket, dogs can also get a GA, which is a snip at 720Fr.20 Unlike a human GA, the dog version is valid in any class; clearly dogs don’t need to pay for the superior flooring in 1st.
Bikes also need tickets for trains, so can also have their own GA. See how Swiss logic works? At 220Fr a year21 a bike GA is a great deal, especially considering that on most trains bikes get their own racks, or their own compartments on some long-distance ones. This typical example of Swiss thoughtfulness and efficiency stretches to the platform as well. Imagine the train is pulling in and you’re standing with your bike ready to board, only to have to run like crazy when you realise the bike compartment is at the other end of the platform. That would never happen in Switzerland, be
cause platforms have a blue poster showing the make-up of the trains that stop there. The bike compartment is clearly marked, as are the restaurant car and two different classes, so all you have to do is wait at the right spot on the platform.
That blue poster may seem insignificant in terms of running a railway, but for me it was a big revelation about Swiss trains. Cleanliness and punctuality were both givens, but knowing where a certain carriage would stop on a platform seemed like a miracle. After all, I was used to Waterloo, where you don’t usually know which platform your train will leave from until a few minutes before. In Switzerland you never see a crowd of people standing in front of departure screens waiting to know which platform they have to run to. Even in big, busy stations like Zurich or Bern, the platform numbers for every train are set once a year and printed on the timetables. That way everyone can wait in the right place and connecting services can be announced including the platform number. So very Swiss.
IT’S A GROUP THING
SBB doesn’t just plan its timetables well, it entices people off the roads and into trains. Going to the Madonna concert in Zurich or the cup final in Bern? Then your ticket includes the train trip there, so no need to take the car. What a great idea that is! Or how about paying 20Fr a year for a family card so that your children travel for free when they are with you, including on heart-stoppingly expensive routes like Jungfraujoch (see below)? That’s another winner, especially if you use one of the cross-country double-decker trains, which have a carriage set aside for families: room for buggies downstairs and a playground upstairs, with all manner of things to keep little angels happy; the Swiss like nothing better than attention to detail. Perhaps the best marketing success, or at least the one that appeals most to the Swiss, is the group travel scheme.
The Swiss love being in a group. Think of any way of spending time and there will undoubtedly be a club or group for it somewhere in Switzerland; it must be something to do with coconuts wanting to bunch together.22 Or maybe it’s because the Swiss are so used to being organised that they like their free time to be as well. Membership of a group is almost a must in Swiss society and, as a foreigner wanting to become a naturalised Swiss citizen, part of the process is proving that you are integrated enough to have joined a club of some sort. Time for me to improve my table tennis or get singing lessons or maybe learn to blow something long and hard, like an alphorn. The thing about groups is that they like to travel together, or at least they do in Switzerland, where they get free seat reservations and discounts on the train tickets.23 No wonder whole carriages can be full of a gaggle (or should that be woggle?) of scouts on an outing or pensioners going off for a mountain hike. Or school trips to a museum. Or a day out for the whole extended family. Or a work away-day to bond over sausages. You get the idea.
As a non-groupie, it was a surprise to see how the Swiss dynamic changes in a group and defies their national stereotype of being quiet, reserved and serious. They can be like that at first with strangers, but with each other they can be positively Italian in the way they all talk together without any idea of volume control. Share a carriage with almost any Swiss group and you’re certain to have a headache by the end, or want to strangle the woman with the chicken laugh, or both. Perhaps that’s why SBB separates them out, usually putting groups in the last carriage of a train. It’s practical but it also saves lives. If the group sitting behind you is unusually quiet for most of the journey, they’re probably playing cards. And that means only one game.
PLAYING THE SWISS AT THEIR OWN GAME
Jass is similar to bridge, though with completely different cards, and is a national obsession, for young and old alike. Played not just on trains, it can also be seen in the corner of a bar, after dinner in a restaurant or online. There are even mass Jass evenings, where twenty pairs compete in a round-robin tournament.
Picture this: 6.45 p.m. on Saturday on SF1, the main Swiss channel. Perfect time for a family drama, pop talent show or even ballroom dancing competition. Any of those might happen in Britain, but Switzerland gets to watch Jass. It’s a simple affair: views of the cards in play, snooker-style commentary, musical interludes, and that’s about it. Not quite Play Your Cards Right (no points making prizes and no Brucie), but it’s been popular ever since it started in 1967. That’s way before Late Night Poker turned cards into a spectator sport in Britain, making Samschtig-Jass the grandmother of TV card games. It’s certainly much cosier than poker, as the programme takes place in real restaurants and bars around the country. But for novices like me, there’s nothing cosy about trying to understand what’s going on.
First, you need to know that it’s pronounced ‘yass’, since js in German are ys. Then you have to get to grips with the cards. Gone are the familiar black-and-red cards of a regular deck, replaced by four suits (bells, roses, shields and acorns) that look like they were designed when the Borgias were in power. The 36 cards are all so vibrantly painted in yellow, red, blue and green that the mix of colours and strange shapes still flummoxes me. I have to stare at each card to work out what it is. How many little acorns are attached to that branch? Is that pipe-smoking Bauer (equivalent to a Jack) really holding a rose? What happened to all the cards under the number 6? Throw in extras like the game progressing anti-clockwise, trumping whenever you fancy, some cards (such the 9 of trumps, known as Nell) being worth more than they should be and the world’s most complicated scoring system, and you see why only the Swiss are experts. Maybe Jass is like cricket – a game you have to grow up with to stand any chance of understanding what on earth is happening. At least it keeps the Swiss happy.
TO INTERLAKEN AND BEYOND
Just about the only trains where the Swiss don’t play Jass are the ones in the mountains. You might think that’s because they’re admiring the views, but while most Swiss are immensely proud of their scenery they’re also rather blasé about it; for them, it’s merely a backdrop to their lives. No, it has more to do with the lack of room on mountain trains, which are built for strength not comfort. It seems to be a standard requirement for Swiss mountain trains to have uncomfortable seats with minimal leg room; it’s like being on an easyJet plane, only with windows that open. The higher you go, the more uncomfortable they get, so by the time you arrive in Europe’s highest railway station at Jungfraujoch, you really do need to stretch your legs. That’s after having stretched your wallet to get there. A return trip costs 190Fr, or roughly £125. It takes 137 minutes each way, or about 45p a minute, which is cheaper than most telephone helplines and far more enjoyable. You do at least get a lot of mountain for your money, with the journey ending at 3454 metres above sea level, over three times as high as Mt Snowdon. Of course only the very foolish or very rich (or both) pay the full price, but even then it’s worth it. This trip of a lifetime needs three different stages to scale the heights and begins in Interlaken, Switzerland’s biggest resort.
Take away the 4550 beds,24 and all the associated restaurants, bars and souvenir shops, and there wouldn’t be much left of Interlaken. Its whole existence is dependent on the tourist trade and has been ever since the 1860s, when the first tour groups started arriving. And they’ve been coming ever since. Walk down the main street in August and it will sound like Little Britain, only without Vicky Pollard. This is a favourite spots for Brits, not because the resort itself is particularly charming, but because it is perfectly located at the centre of the Bernese Oberland. From Interlaken you can catch a paddle steamer on the two lakes that sandwich the town and gave it its name, or hop on a train to take you up to an Alpine wonderland. With all that on your doorstep, it’s possible to forgive the town planners who allowed buildings like the Hotel Metropole right in the centre. If there were awards for Switzerland’s worst eyesore, this 18-storey concrete monstrosity would get my vote. In itself it’s no worse than some blocks in the Bern or Zurich suburbs. What makes it so objectionable is how badly it scars an otherwise low-rise town and its mountain backdrop. You’re better off staying there, purely
because once you’re inside, you don’t have to look at the exterior.
There are two reasons the Swiss come to Interlaken. One is to change trains. It is the Clapham Junction of Switzerland, though distinctly more scenic and with fewer platforms. Mainline trains from Bern, Zurich or even Frankfurt all terminate here; they can go no further because that requires a narrower gauge and smaller trains. Every half hour a 14-carriage train pulls in and disgorges its hundreds of passengers, most of whom then have to attempt the Interlaken Dash. With the timetables finessed to the last second, you have about five minutes to change platforms via the subway and catch one of the waiting mountain trains, first making sure you get the right one. On a Sunday morning at the height of summer, this can be rather chaotic with all those Swiss walkers joining the tourists in the fight for places. The tourists usually lose.
The other reason is one of Switzerland’s best tearooms. In a country that loves its coffee-and-cake breaks, there can be few better places to have one than Café Schuh. It’s been delighting guests with its gâteaux since 1818, and shows no sign of losing its touch. True, the décor was modern when the Berlin Wall was still standing, and the live piano music can verge on being too schmaltzy-waltzy, but the cakes are divine. The summer terrace overlooks Interlaken’s vast village green, the Höhematte, a favoured landing spot for paragliders. If you see someone on a mountain train with a rucksack the size of a mini, then it’s a paraglider lugging his chute up so he can jump off and waft back down. Watching them as they leap into thin air is almost as exciting as seeing them drop down to earth beside Café Schuh.