Jonathan Welch recounts a few journeys on buses in Switzerland, though not everything ran according to plan
The Swiss public transport network is often lauded as one of the best, and as regular readers will know, I spent a few weeks in Switzerland late last year looking at a number of operations for features, many of which have already appeared in these pages. It also provided a good opportunity to travel on a few buses as a passenger, and see some more of the beautiful countryside whilst also keeping an eye on the buses, operations and passengers with a degree of professional curiosity.
I set out with the aim of recounting a few tales of everyday bus journeys on roads which seem spectacular to a first-time passenger, but which drivers take in their stride: Hairpin bends, breathtaking scenery, tourists and of course the iconic tee-tuu-taa of the post horn. As it turned out, it would be a couple of journeys which would highlight an entirely different aspect of the driver’s role, and a side to the job that many rarely consider; the idyllic image you may have flicked past on the contents page hides a much less idyllic story.
Schwarzwaldalp
My first journey would be one which highlighted some of the narrow and winding roads so typical of the local area and of the routes operated by PostBus; many operate year-round and offer a valuable service to locals, but some are aimed at the large crowds of tourists who visit each year to enjoy the spectacular landscape and outdoor activities it offers. Boarding from a road-side stop between the towns of Meringen and Innertkirchen, I hopped aboard a 10.8-metre Iveco Crossway on route 164 to Schwarzwaldalp as it turned off the main road and started its journey up the narrow mountain route.
Almost immediately, we passed a small hydro-energy facility, a common sight hereabouts, and shortly after we passed without stopping a small wooden toll hut where car drivers must halt and pay before proceeding upwards.
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The route was lined with trees in places, the landscape opening out intermittently to lush green meadows, the narrow road lined with low post and wire fences. The road didn’t seem too taxing for our young driver, who took it in his stride, though the kind of bends which highlight the need for astute driving and a shorter bus started to become more frequent.
Twisting our way upwards, the route began to cling to one side of the valley; grassy slopes and substantial retaining walls to our left, a thin wire fence to our right marking the edge of the road and the slope down towards the river below.
The bus was well-filled, with few spare seats, and many passengers equipped with walking paraphernalia or cycles on the bus’ rear-mounted rack. Needless to say, as the road became more challenging, the ever-present danger of oncoming traffic – motorised, but also cyclists descending at speed – meant that it wasn’t long before our driver sounded his three-tone horn to warn of our approach, much to the delight of those on board. On this route, the horn serves not just as a warning, but an instruction; having passed the square blue sign with a picture of a post horn signifying the post bus has priority, drivers of other vehicles are obliged to give way, and all of those encountered did. Cyclists pulled into gateways, car drivers waited at wider parts of the road, and those who we met unexpectedly reversed to let us pass, often helped by a gesture from our driver as to where best to pull in. From speaking to drivers, I’m told that foreign tourists in cars are often less aware, less willing or less able, though it wasn’t always phrased so politely, and as much as driving a bus though this spectacular scenery seems like an ideal job, I’m sure anyone who has driven for a living will understand the daily frustrations.
With the Rychenbach river cascading down the mountain alongside us, we climbed higher, passing a number of typical small houses and lodges catering to those in need of refreshment and rest, the road opening out in places to run alongside the river in relatively flat lands before embarking on its next series of twists and turns. Having already switched to the opposite bank, we passed the imposing and enticing-looking Hotel Rosenlaui before making a sharp left turn to re-cross the tumbling torrent.
Nearing the end of our run, we arrived at a car park in Schwarzwaldalp, where a typically Swiss chalet hotel looked inviting, and where a 12-metre MAN was waiting to carry passengers onwards over the restricted road to Gridlewald, a popular gateway to the Jungfrau region, offering skiing in winter and hiking in summer and a base for mountain-climbing ascents up the iconic north face of Eiger.
I was invited to join the drivers for a coffee in the hotel before we re-boarded the bus and made our way back down, this time with very few passengers aboard, just one local boarding at the Hotel Rosenlaui. Whilst our bus was quiet, there were still many people heading upwards, this being a mid-morning journey, meaning we encountered many more oncoming cars, cyclists and walkers as we made our way against the tide; our driver commented that the opposite was true in the afternoon, as visitors made their way back down, and that cyclists travelling at speed could pose a real danger.
Change of plans
For my second trip, I had planned to join colleague and friend and part-time PostBus driver Beat Winterflood for a trip from Innertkirchen to Guttannen and Handegg. Starting his shift at PostBus operator Flück Reisen’s small but smart Meiringen depot, Beat was, in typically Swiss style, in good time for his departure on route 171, a short-wheelbase Mercedes-Benz Citaro K being his steed for the day. A good number of visitors were waiting to board, the size of the bus matching almost perfectly the capacity required. Many had arrived by train at the railway station opposite and were again heading into the mountains to walk or cycle, or as I planned to do, to take the Gelmerbahn rack railway.
Groups from Asia and Portugal boarded and asked for information, being welcomed by multi-lingual Beat in both Swiss German and English over the PA system once we were on the move, adding a little information about the journey and the region; excellent customer service on what is, essentially, a normal bus route.
Paying attention to the road and the bus, I noted that the Citaro drove well, and handled the terrain with ease, though we were on a wide main road with little to really tax it. Passing through a short tunnel, I noticed how well the bus kicked down to give extra power with little fuss. We passed a tourist coach, Beat exchanging greetings and no doubt pleasing its occupants with the familiar post horn as we passed; another horn, in the form of a police car overtaking with siren wailing, was a sign of things to come, though.
Bus drivers everywhere are often very well acquainted with the routes they drive and the daily happenings of the area, and the police car, followed by the sound of a helicopter prompted Beat to comment that all might not be well. On a route like this, where there are few alternative roads, it was easy to surmise that it was likely something had happened ahead. Whether it would be beyond our terminus or not remained to be seen.
Having stopped briefly in Guttannen, Beat waited for a group of bikers to overtake before pulling away, acknowledged with a wave of thanks as they passed. Looking ahead, the gestures of oncoming bikers to their brethren travelling in our direction to slow down could have indicated a police speed check ahead, but added to the suspicion something had happened, and it wasn’t long before we rounded a bend to be met by a queue of traffic.
After a short wait, it started to become clear that this would be a long delay. We weren’t far from our destination, a couple of bends away, and Beat tried to contact the office for details, initially without success. Passengers became restless, especially one small group whose schedule barely seemed to allow time to make the ascent on the Gelmerbahn and back let alone risk a delay, and the obvious question of “can we get off here?” started to be asked.
Beat was firm in saying no, as it was highly likely that the road was blocked, and it might not be possible for them to pass; staying on board might have been unpopular, but at least it meant people had an option to return safely. With limited bus services, and an unknown situation, there was no way of knowing if they would have transport back to Innertkirchen once they left the bus.
Other drivers had turned back and stopped to report to people queuing that there had been an accident. Knowing my background, Beat asked if I would walk forwards to see what the situation was; a five minute walk through spectacular and idyllic scenery confirmed what others had said; there had been an accident, and the road was blocked. Not only that, but his decision to keep passengers aboard had been the right one; with no other way around on foot, they would have had to walk through the scene of the accident to reach our destination. With two motorbikes and a car having been involved in a head-on collison, and one which at the time was believed to have been fatal, a group of bus passengers trooping past or standing around would not have been appreciated, nor appropriate, as frustrating as it was to all on board. Later reports suggested that no-one had died, but that they had suffered serious injuries. Despite the day’s events, Beat said he was unsurprised when, on a later journey, he had to brake sharply to avoid an oncoming motorcyclist who had crossed the centre line on a blind bend; many who come here to drive and ride the mountain roads seem to forget that they are dangerous places, he lamented.
After ascertaining that the delay would be long – the road closure lasted for many more hours – some of the traffic behind cleared and we were able to reverse to a suitable turning point; for the next few hours, services terminated short. Whilst undoubtedly a frustration for all, myself included, the situation was well-handled by driver Beat, and I was impressed that once it became clear we’d be stationary for some time, he placed the chocks which are carried on board under the wheels of the bus for safety.
I used the opportunity to take some photos that would otherwise not have been possible, but it served as a stark reminder that whilst bus drivers are often overlooked, they also very quickly become the ones people turn to in an emergency; a regular stream of drivers came to the bus to ask what was going on. It was also a reminder that, even in the much-lauded world of Swiss public transport, things can and do go wrong.
Getting away from the unfortunate events, my travels did confirm that public transport seems both well-regarded and well-supported in Switzerland, on a network that is tailored to the needs of both locals and visitors with additional routes overlaid on a year-round network. Every bus I travelled on or observed was well-presented, clean and tidy with leaflets and information easily available. Even more impressive, given the tight turns and retaining walls on some routes, was the lack of damage to vehicle extremities; signs of front and rear corner damage were minimal to non-existant. For those who want to combine bus travel and spectacular journeys, Switzerland should definitely be on the “To Do” list.
