Why travelling is so sweet around Lucerne, Switzerland

Historians say Lucerne in central Switzerland sprouted up around a Benedictine monastery, founded in 750AD as a cell of the powerful Murbach Abbey in Alsace, now part of France. Yet there  is a far more romantic origin tale for the city, involving an angel beaming a light from the sky to show the first settlers where to build the first chapel. It grew from there into a small fishing town.

Standing on the city’s edge, looking at the ice-blue glitter of Lake Lucerne, the emerald hills across the way and the alabaster peaks of the Alps in the distance, I’ve no idea why the settlers would have needed divine directions. They could have just used their eyes. Perching at the point where the River Reuss flows out of the lake, and even in a country with more than its fair share of stunning landscapes, Lucerne is a showstopper.  

The pioneers of tourism saw it. In the 17th and 18th centuries, when it became fashionable for young aristocrats to criss-cross Europe on what they called “The Grand Tour”, Lucerne was on the list. And when package-tour pioneer Thomas Cook organised his first group foray to Switzerland in 1863, it ended in that city. 

Several famous names have also visited through the ages and helped to boost its profile, most notably Queen Victoria, who went in 1868 on doctors orders to ride boats on the lake and walk (and occasionally ride her pony) up the mountains. The fanfare around her sojourn — and another two visits in later years — ignited a lust for Lucerne among the Brits, and a hotel-building craze to accommodate the wave. Many creatives went too, among them Mark Twain, Wagner, Goethe (he called it “a city of singular beauty”), Lord Byron, Mary Shelley, Herman Melville and Ernest Hemingway. 

BEAUTY ON THE BRIDGE

Every one of them would no doubt have walked across — as thousands of tourists do every day —  the most important symbol of the city, the Chapel Bridge, built over the River Reuss in 1333. By the Middle Ages, Lucerne’s location at the intersection of key trade routes saw it becoming a significant economic power. The pedestrian Kapellbrücke, as it is known in these German-speaking parts, connected the old part of town on the right bank with the new on the left. It also had a protective role, as it could throttle any attacks from the water and was connected to two defensive towers.

The 13th-century city walls and several other towers can all be visited, but the bridge is particularly beloved not only for being  “the world’s oldest covered wooden bridge” but also for its series of painted panels, added in the 17th century, which beautifully illustrate the history of the city and the legends of its patron saints. On some of them, one can still see the aftermath of a terrible fire that broke out on the bridge in 1993, a crisis that for the locals must have been akin to Parisians’ horror watching Notre Dame burn. (The famously efficient Swiss repaired the bridge the following year). 

Visitors today typically meander over the bridge into the Altstadt (Old Town), which is brimming with medieval and Renaissance architecture and particularly pretty with its pastel-painted, half-timbered houses; riverside cafes; winding alleys and cobblestoned squares full of flower boxes and fountains. On almost every corner you’ll find a busker playing an instrument such as a violin or classical guitar — Lucerne is famous for a classical music festival founded in 1938.

Other Old Town highlights include the former town hall (1602); the water tower (1300); and the Church of St Leodegar, which was built around 1633 on the same site where the angel supposedly shone those directions. Saint Leodegar, incidentally, is the patron saint of people with eye problems, so maybe those settlers did need the help after all. 

THE MOURNFUL STONE

Just beyond the Old Town is another famous symbol of Lucerne, perhaps something of a surprise, especially if you’re African. Of all the things you might expect to see in Switzerland, a lion is probably not among them. Yet this one — a sculpture carved into a rock face above a small pond in a tree-lined park — is supposedly “the most famous lion in Europe”.

A colossal 10m long and 6m high, the lion is a popular and pretty backdrop for photos but if you look closely, you can’t miss its aura of despair. This makes sense when you know its story, which stretches all the way back to the French Revolution. By the time it began in 1789, Swiss mercenaries had been selling their services to the French military for 200 years. They were considered highly skilled, and especially trustworthy during times of civil unrest. But at the storming of the Tuileries Palace in Paris on August 10 1792, 950 Swiss Guards loyal to the king attempted to defend it. The rebels’ victory ultimately ended the French monarchy and established the French Republic, but the battle saw 650 Swiss Guards massacred. The rest were captured and soon executed. 

The Lion of Lucerne, carved between 1819-1821, is a tribute to those fallen men, commissioned by a Swiss officer and Lucerne native who was on leave that day. Hence his front paw rests on a shield adorned with the fleur-de-lis, symbol of the monarchy, next to another shield bearing the Swiss cross. But it’s the broken spear sticking out of his side, his slumping posture and defeated face that make him truly pitiful. Twain, incidentally, agreed, calling the monument in A Tramp Abroad (1880), “the most mournful and moving piece of stone in the world”. 

MIRROR, MIRROR ON THE WALL 

One of the best things about travelling in Switzerland is the public transport system. Trains, boats, trams and buses criss-cross the country and connect so seamlessly that you can go wherever you want, whenever you want, in virtually no time at all. 

Around Lucerne, the ferries that carry locals from the city pier to their lakeside villages double up perfectly as pleasure craft for tourists. They have restaurants on board, so you could lunch or sip a cocktail and simply enjoy a loop on the lake and disembark back where you started. Or get off and explore.

I leave the ferry in Vitznau, 17km from Lucerne. This and its neighbour Weggis are both ludicrously idyllic villages with Mount Rigi — aka “the Queen of the Mountains” — soaring steeply behind them. With rustic, A-frame chalets climbing up into the hills, and waterfront promenades with cafes, restaurants and boats bobbing in the harbour, this serene side of the lake is a wonderland for wellness tourism. Twain spent time here too — about 10 weeks in Weggis in 1897 — and wrote: “Sunday in heaven is noisy compared to this quietness.” 

Most who come here do it to climb Mount Rigi  — and both villages have thrilling ways to do it with barely any physical exertion. The Rigi Bahn is a cogwheel train line launched in 1871, Europe's first mountain railway. Today the line runs both modern and historic carriages that carry more than one million passengers per year from Vitznau to the top station, Rigi Kulm, 1,797m above sea level.

There are a few stops along the way, most notably Rigi Kaltbad (altitude 1,453m), a village with a hotel with hot mineral baths. It also has hiking trails, scenic viewpoints and restaurants, including one that’s Michelin-starred. 

Kaltbad can also be reached by a cable car from Weggis, so going up one way and coming down the other is a clever combination for a scenic round-trip — and that is my plan. But with my first day cancelled by rain, I have to do it on my second — and last — morning. On the first car of the day, the sky is blue and the lake brilliant. The shoreline’s cutesie villages get tinier and tinier as the car climbs.