Spontaneous detour to Interlaken

I'm sitting in a cozy café in Interlaken, watching raindrops race down the window while nursing my second cup of coffee. This wasn't the plan when I woke up in Lucerne this morning.

The train from Lucerne to Locarno was packed with tourists when I arrived at the station, all of us apparently having the same idea to escape the persistent rain by heading south. I stood there on the platform, ticket in hand, watching people squeeze themselves and their luggage into already crowded carriages. Something didn't feel right.

I stepped back, letting others push forward. The Swiss rail system's punctuality meant the train would depart in exactly 4 minutes. A quick decision was needed.

"What am I really looking for today?" I asked myself.

That's when I noticed a departure board showing a train to Interlaken leaving in 7 minutes. I remembered seeing photos of the lakes and mountains there. Without overthinking it, I walked to the ticket counter, changed my ticket, and minutes later was heading in a completely different direction than planned.

The journey itself was worth the spontaneous change. The train wound through valleys with mist-shrouded mountains looming above, occasionally breaking through clouds to reveal snow-dusted peaks. Lakes appeared and disappeared through the fog, their surfaces rippled by the rain.

!Rain-streaked train window with misty mountains beyond View from the train between Lucerne and Interlaken

I arrived in Interlaken around 4 PM and found a small, reasonably priced hotel near the train station. After checking in and dropping my bags, I ventured out despite the continuing light rain. Interlaken sits between two lakes – Lake Thun and Lake Brienz – with mountains rising dramatically on all sides. Even through the mist and clouds, the setting is spectacular.

I walked toward Lake Brienz first, following paths along the Aare River. The water is an almost unreal turquoise color, even on this gray day. I spotted several massive trees along the riverbank that must be hundreds of years old, their branches stretching out over the water. I stopped to photograph a particularly impressive specimen with roots partially exposed along the bank.

The rain started coming down harder, so I cut my exploration short and found this café to warm up and plan the next few days. Tomorrow, if the weather improves even slightly, I want to take the funicular up to Harder Kulm for the panoramic views. The boat trips on the lakes are also high on my list, though I'll wait for a clearer day to make the most of the scenery.

I've been checking the forecast on my phone, and it looks like the weather might improve somewhat over the weekend. Sunday could even bring some sunshine. I'm trying not to let the rain dampen my spirits – after all, the lush greenery and dramatic waterfalls in this region exist because of this very precipitation.

There's a certain peacefulness to traveling in the off-season and in less-than-perfect weather. The crowds are thinner, and you get to see places in a different light. The mountains appearing and disappearing in the clouds have their own mysterious beauty.

I've noticed several signs for chocolate-making workshops around town. That might be the perfect rainy-day activity if tomorrow brings more of the same weather. Learning to make Swiss chocolate while staying dry sounds like a reasonable compromise.

It's getting late now, and the café is starting to empty. I should find somewhere for dinner before places close. There's a restaurant across the street that looks promising – I can see steaming plates of what looks like rösti being served through the window.

Day 58 of 500. The journey continues to surprise me, even when – or perhaps especially when – I deviate from the plan.