Switzerland Great Continental Railway Journeys

I'm embarking on a new railway adventure,

that will take me across the heart of Europe.

I'll be using this,

my Bradshaw's Continental Railway Guide,

dated 1913, which opened up an exotic world of foreign travel

for the British tourist.

It told travellers where to go,

what to see and how to navigate

the thousands of miles of tracks criss-crossing the continent.

Now, a century later,

I'm using my copy to reveal an era of great optimism and energy,

where technology, industry, science

and the arts were flourishing.

I want to rediscover that lost Europe that in 1913

couldn't know that its way of life would shortly be swept aside

by the advent of war.

Armed with my 1913 railway guide,

I'm following in the footsteps of early 20th century travellers

and making five long journeys across Europe.

Today, I'm exploring Switzerland, whose remarkable railways

helped to make it a favourite with Edwardian tourists.

Cheers.

Cheers.

I'll discover the cargo carried

on the country's first ever line...

Mmm...

wonderful!

Before heading for the glorious Alps...

I've been lucky enough to experience

some very beautiful train journeys,

but this must be one of the very best.

Where the British left their mark on sport...

British people are sometimes a little bit crazy.

..And literature...

Do you remember any Sherlock Holmes stories?

HE HOWLS

And where astonishing engineering feats

conquered the most challenging peaks.

That's the longest glacier of the Alps.

That is awe inspiring.

My Swiss adventure begins in Basel, then traces a route outlined

in my guidebook, via the industrial city of Zurich,

then south east to Chur.

From there, the famous Glacier Express will carry me

through some of Switzerland's most stunning alpine scenery,

before I turn north to explore Lake Lucerne.

Finally, I'll make the impressive railway ascent

to Jungfraujoch, Europe's highest railway station.

It's clear from the dizzying array of routes

and the lyrical descriptions

contained in my Bradshaw's 1913 Continental Railway Guide

that by the beginning of the 20th century,

the railways had opened Switzerland to tourists,

and the draw of what my guidebook

calls "the finest lake and mountain scenery"

had made Switzerland one of the most aspirational of destinations.

I shall be following one of my guidebook's recommended routes

through this spectacular country, but to reach my first stop,

I'm travelling on a French train, along French tracks.

I'm heading for the Swiss border city of Basel,

which, since medieval times,

has been a melting pot of French, German and Swiss influences.

By 1913, it had also become the nexus of a sprawling

continental railway network.

Bradshaw's tells me that Basel is the key to Switzerland,

where several international railway lines meet,

and the customs examinations take place.

Here, the trains from Alsace, where I've just come from, run in,

connecting with the principal Swiss railways,

and although I've come to a Swiss city,

this part of the station is still officially France.

I'm unpicking the history of this railway hub

with historian Martin Lengwiler.

-Hello, Martin.

-Hello, Michael.

This is really a very international place, isn't it?

I see French trains, Swiss trains, German trains.

This is the meeting point of the nations, isn't it?

That's true indeed and Basel has a special place in the history

of the Swiss railway system

because it's the first town that has been linked to any railway line

and it's still the only town in Switzerland that has three stations

of three national origins.

Surprisingly, the very first railway on Swiss soil

was actually built by the French.

In 1844, they constructed a line from Strasbourg

to the Swiss border and proposed a terminus within Basel's city limits.

But they got a lukewarm reception from the ruling elite.

They were anxious because of military reasons.

They were afraid that the French would use the railway

to attack Basel with their troops.

That's quite surprising to us

because we now associate the Swiss almost as much with railways

as we do with wristwatches and clocks.

It's strange to think that the Swiss were reluctant to have a railway.

Railways got off to a slow start across the country.

Thanks to Switzerland's mountainous landscape,

late industrialisation and its decentralised political system,

the first home-grown line wasn't built until 1847,

by which time Britain had over 2,000 miles of tracks.

Basel finally got a Swiss station in 1854,

and the Germans soon followed with one of their own.

Today, the French and Swiss termini share a site.

But the French station has extra-territorial status -

so to join the Swiss network,

I'm crossing an international frontier.

The murals are inviting us to visit the rest of Switzerland.

A lot of alpine scenery here.

That's true, the lake of Lucerne, the Berne Alps,

this is designed for tourists, of course.

Very appropriate for me,

because I'll be visiting scenery quite like this.

Before I continue my journey,

I'm venturing out to explore this multicultural city,

that straddles the River Rhine.

Just a year after my guidebook was published,

life in picturesque Basel was disrupted,

as Switzerland's neighbours were drawn into the First World war.

But for Edwardian readers of my Bradshaw's,

this city's hub location made it the perfect pit-stop.

In the days before air travel

brought us jet-lag and climate shock,

guidebooks were concerned to treat travellers gently.

My Bradshaw's says, "Basel is recommended

"as an intermediate station for the change of climate between

"the warm south and the low-lying north and alpine districts.

"It offers its visitors manifold points of pleasure."

I think I might just stick to a meal.

Followers of my 1913 guide

would have made a beeline for the beautiful historic centre.

It's where I've come to see how French, German

and Swiss traditions have influenced Basel's cuisine.

We have here the veal, Basel style, and this is the rosti, it's typical.

Rosti, typically Swiss, thank you very much indeed.

-Bon appetit!

-Thank you.

I think Swiss-German farmers used to make it for their breakfast

and during World War I, the term "Rostigraben" was invented,

the ditch based on the rosti,

which separated those of French and German sympathy

and it's an expression that's still used today

to express the cultural divide - the Rostigraben.

Much as I'd like to stay and explore Basel,

with almost 300 miles to cover

on my 1913 guidebook's recommended route, there's no time to waste.

And so Switzerland opens before me.

From a slow start, the Swiss railway network

has become one of the most admired in the world.

And I'm going on a journey of discovery to find out why.

The quality of Swiss trains is as you would imagine -

beautifully clean, delightfully air-conditioned,

and this is first class. Spacious and luxurious.

And even second class is absolutely satisfactory.

I'm following in the footsteps of Edwardian tourists,

but I'm about to delve into Europe's

much more distant past.

-Hello.

-Hello, may I see your ticket?

-I'm going to Brugg.

-Thank you.

-Thank you very much.

You're welcome, bye-bye.

In the early 20th century, ancient history was a hot topic,

as British archaeologists blazed a trail across the globe.

Inspired by their exotic foreign discoveries,

readers of my 1913 guide would have been tantalised

by the description of my next stop.

I'll be getting off this train at Brugg, and my Bradshaw's says,

"A little to the north of Brugg,

"the Aare river is joined by the Reuss,

"coming from the lakes of Zug and Lucerne,

"and at the point of junction

"once stood the ancient Roman town of Vindonissa,

"scarcely a trace of which now exists."

I'm hoping that in the 100 years since my guidebook was published

more traces have been unearthed.

In fact, by 1913, pioneering archaeologists,

working in the village of Windisch, just outside Brugg,

had already begun to reveal what is today

a nearly fully excavated Roman legionary camp.

It was the Romans' key military stronghold in Switzerland.

I'm exploring with archaeologist, Jurgen Trumm.

I'm amazed by what I've found here because my Bradshaw's guide tells me

there aren't many traces left of Vindonissa.

When did people first become aware of what they had here?

I think the beginning of the archaeology

was linked with the railway, the railway from Basel to Zurich.

The mid-19th century railway engineers

unearthed a Roman rubbish dump,

filled with bones, ceramics, coins and wooden objects.

Then in the 1900s,

the local community put things on a formal footing.

They founded an archaeological society,

and, in 1912, set up a museum proudly to display their heritage.

The 20th century was also a high period for archaeology,

I think of some of the great discoveries

that excited the public so much, like Tutankhamen in the 1920s.

Yes, in Switzerland, archaeology was en vogue at the beginning

of the 20th century, so people dig the Roman ruins,

they dig the ruins from the Stone and Bronze Ages.

The work begun a century ago continues today.

Whenever a building is planned in the modern towns of Windisch

and Brugg, the archaeologists go in first to check for buried treasures.

What's the most exciting thing you've found?

So, a very nice one is that here, dice made out of bone,

looks really like today's dice.

That's absolutely wonderful.

And these markings are the original markings?

It's incised into the bone.

Incised into the bone, isn't that beautiful?

It's amazing to think that all this

lay beneath the feet of the Edwardian tourists who came here.

-OK.

-That's OK, Joachim.

Off we go.

'Before I leave, a modern invention

'gives me a new perspective on this remarkable site.'

-We are going to have a wonderful view.

-Yes, indeed.

I'm looking out at a Roman world

and I'm seeing it as no Roman ever did.

I'm now continuing along the railway route recommended in my 1913 guide.

I'm bound for a place which attracted Edwardian tourists

concerned for their health.

I shall be disembarking at Baden, which my Bradshaw's tells me is,

"A picturesque town near Zurich, on the River Limmat,

"noted for its hot mineral springs,

"most beneficial in cases of gout, rheumatism, chronic catarrhs etc."

I'm here in search of a local speciality

which is probably a bit less healthy,

but which is inextricably linked with the railways.

Baden has the honour of being the starting point

for the first fully Swiss railway,

which, from 1847, carried wealthy Zurich folk to their water cure.

But soon after it opened, the line gained an unusual nickname.

Even today, it's known as the Spanisch-Brotli-Bahn,

after a local sweet treat.

Hello, Michael. A warm welcome to you in Baden.

Thank you very much. It's a beautiful town,

I'm very pleased to be here.

Tour guide Beatrice Candrian knows the story.

I'm half Spanish and I understand that, in Baden,

you have a pastry which is called a Spanisch brotli.

-That's true.

-What is this?

Well, it's a very nice fluffy pastry.

We don't quite know the origin.

We think that a Spanish baker

just travelled through Baden

and he brought this recipe here.

The cake became a much-loved delicacy

with the people of Zurich, 15 miles away.

And when the railway was built between Zurich and Baden,

I suppose that helped people in Zurich

to come to Baden and buy their brotli.

It sure did. It helped mostly the servants,

because, before the opening of the railroad line,

the servants had to walk through the darkness of the night

along the Limmat, two to three hours,

to buy them here very early in the morning

and to bring them back for their breakfast,

so you can imagine that those servants were mostly happy

when they could board the train.

By the mid-20th century, these rich pastries had fallen out of favour,

but, five years ago, a few local bakeries revived the recipe.

Now, Michael, here, meet, please, Benny,

the baker of our Spanisch brotli.

Benny, hello.

'I'm going to learn how to make the modern version.'

What have you put in there?

Hazelnuts, carrots, sugar and persipan.

Wow, that sounds very, very sweet.

'To keep the puff pastry perfect,

'spreading the mixture requires a light touch.'

This is the tricky bit, getting up to the limit.

Mine has rather the look of a Swiss mountain range,

just too many valleys.

Here we go...

Ooooh!

Oh, no! Oh, Benny!

My edges are all broken, argh.

No-one will know, just patch that up.

'The Spanisch brotli are cut into individual cakes.'

Oh, you need a steady hand for this.

First one is a bit squashed.

The second one is going to be great.

Ah, that one's brilliant.

Then 18 minutes later, it's time for the acid test.

Mmm, they are good.

The pastry is great, isn't it? Very fluffy pastry.

Fluffy and light, yes.

Well, they taste OK to me, but I want to know whether they're worthy

of their railway namesake, so I'm taking my efforts to the streets.

These are Spanish brotli. Have you ever heard...?

Ah, Spanisch-Brotli-Bahn.

Yes. The Spanisch-Brotli-Bahn?

I know, but not really.

-Spanish-Brotli-Bahn.

-Ja, that we know.

Spanisch-Brotli-Bahn. What was the Spanisch-Brotli-Bahn?

A train between Baden and Zurich.

-Yeah?

-The first train in Switzerland.

-Would you like to try it?

-Ja, yes.

Go ahead, tell me what you think. Have a bite.

Ja.

Mmm, wonderful.

-Yes, I try it for you.

-Yeah, just a favour to me.

Yes, sure.

Very good.

It's delicious.

-It's good.

-Is it good?

-Tastes like one.

Do you think it's worth a journey from Zurich to Baden to buy that?

Yeah, why not!

You can take it on your train,

then your train will be the Spanisch-Brotli-Bahn.

That's it. Thank you.

-Thank you.

-Bye.

I'm now swapping my Spanisch brotli for the Spanisch-Brotli line,

to head to the next stop on my Edwardian itinerary.

I'm now travelling the route of the first railway

ever built in Switzerland, towards Zurich,

which my Bradshaw's tells me, "Is the capital of the canton of Zurich,

"and commercially the most important town in Switzerland."

I think of it for its financiers, the so-called Gnomes of Zurich,

but it also has a substantial history as an engineering town.

Zurich's entrepreneurs were at the heart

of the Swiss Industrial Revolution, and the British traveller

arriving here in 1913 could marvel at the city's many textile mills.

Bradshaw's comments that,

"The principal manufacture is concerned with silk,

"but the engineering trade is also extensive,"

and at the beginning of the 20th century those skills

were being applied to railways.

To the average Briton in 1913, trains meant steam.

But a trip to Switzerland might mean

an encounter with an exciting new technology electricity.

Railway engineers had experimented with electric traction

from the 1840s, but around the turn of the 20th century

electricity was to transform European travel.

I've come to the suburb of Oerlikon,

to hear how a Zurich firm played a leading role in the story.

My guide is railway enthusiast, Albert Schoch.

-Hello, Albert.

-Hello, Michael.

This is the most extraordinary place.

It has the feel of an industrial building but the look of a park.

What is it?

It's referring to these old buildings here of Maschinenfabrik Oerlikon

and it shows the dimensions of an old assembly hall.

Today, this is a peaceful public park

but the Maschinenfabrik Oerlikon, or MFO,

was once one of Zurich's biggest employers, with over 2,000 workers.

It started out as a metal-works but then, in the early 20th century,

the world's first electric locomotive,

using alternating current, was constructed here.

And these new trains proved ideally suited to Swiss conditions.

Switzerland is very demanding territory for locomotives,

very high mountains, very low temperatures, very steep slopes,

and MFO was able to meet the need.

Yes, Michael.

Electric trains were cleaner in Switzerland's many tunnels

than smoky steam engines and the country's abundant supply

of hydroelectric power made them cheap to run.

One of MFO's greatest achievements was when it designed a locomotive

for the infamous St Gotthard line, one of the steepest in the country.

They electrified the Saint Gotthard line in 1921

and MFO gave the solution with the famous Crocodile,

the CE68 or BE68 and a really powerful machine, never seen before.

And this was not just a locomotive for Switzerland,

this was a really outstanding object of admiration.

After the triumph of the Crocodile, MFO went from strength to strength.

But in the 1990s, its railway activities were outsourced,

and by the year 2000, the factory was finally shut down

and eventually dismantled.

The only part to survive was the old administrative building.

So, Albert, why have you brought me to a building site

next to the railway line here?

Michael, this beautiful brick stone building from 1889

used to stand on this position where we are now.

Do you mean they demolished it and rebuilt it over there?

No, not at all. They moved it, 60 metres westwards.

They are enlarging the station of Oerlikon,

so they had to decide to demolish or to move.

Amazingly, rather than lose this last piece

of the company's industrial history, the building was moved,

lock stock and barrel, at a cost of over £8 million.

After 10 months of preparation, on 22nd May 2012,

it was carried along special tracks, at a rate of four metres per hour.

Clearly the people here are very proud of MFO's history

and clearly the Swiss are still engineers of world class.

Yes, you may say.

Directed by my 1913 guide, early 20th century visitors

would have bypassed Zurich's industrial outskirts

and headed straight for the centre

and I'm now following in their footsteps

to see why it receives such a glowing recommendation.

My Bradshaw's comments that,

"The older parts remain in places quaint and picturesque,

"while the modern quarters are spacious and handsome."

With the main station behind me, Hauptbahnhof,

and this being Bahnhofstrasse,

this is part of the modern Zurich and it's time to take a tram.

In the cradle of modern electric trains,

what better way could there be to travel?

While some British cities have recently restored a tram line

or two, most still regret the fact that they did away

with their tram systems many years ago.

Look at Zurich's map - this is a place for tram lovers.

My 1913 guide directs me south,

towards the shore of the famous Lake Zurich.

My Bradshaw's says that from the quays, "There's a beautiful view

"over the lake and the surrounding country."

I find Zurich a stunning city,

made all the prettier by pink evening light.

The sunset's my cue to find a hotel

and as usual my guidebook has the answer.

Well, for my night's stay in Zurich I turn to my Bradshaw's Guide,

which has an advertisement for the Savoy Hotel.

"First class family hotel,

"apartments with bath and toilette,

"restaurant Francais, American bar."

Sounds ideal.

I'm checking in with manager, Manfred Horger.

-Manfred.

-Evening, great pleasure meeting you.

Great to see you.

You stay, in fact, in the hotel

which has been the first hotel ever built in Zurich.

So, how old is the Savoy?

It was opened on the 24th December, 1838.

American bars first opened in Europe in the late 19th century

and readers of my guidebook would have known that any hotel

advertising one would serve fashionable US-style cocktails.

It's good to know that my Bradshaw's

could point the thirsty cognoscenti

in the direction of a perfect Martini.

-Manfred, cheers.

-Cheers.

You know, after a long and busy day, I was feeling a little shaken,

but the beauty of your hotel has left me stirred.

Thank you, that's very kind of you.

Fortified by a night of Edwardian-era luxury,

it's time for me to continue

along the route recommended by my 1913 guide.

But before I leave, I want to get an insight into this country's

famously efficient rail service.

Zurich is, of course, Switzerland's busiest railway station.

Today I've been given privileged access to the control tower.

It's a complex operation,

for no terminus in Europe has more trains arriving and departing.

From Zurich, you can travel directly to all corners of the continent.

3,000 trains and around 350,000 passengers

pass through this vital railway hub every day.

And the nerve centre of the operation is this tower

that looms over the station's 24 platforms.

Inside, the banks of screens are watched over

by a team of highly-trained staff.

Hello, I'm Michael.

Hello, Michael, nice to meet you.

I notice you're all very calm.

It's a wonderful atmosphere in here, actually.

Yeah, but that can be different when we have...delays.

I didn't know there WERE delays in Switzerland. This is news to me.

-SHE LAUGHS

-Yes!

But we are talking about delay when a train is three minutes late.

The Swiss reputation for precision

is maintained by the latest technology

and faultless attention to detail.

Well, here, you just see the station so well.

And you see it's now 10 o'clock,

2 minutes after 10 o'clock,

and all the trains in Zurich Main Station,

they come some minutes before full and half hour

and they leave some minutes after.

So now all the trains are leaving and if you see in 10 minutes,

10-15, the whole station will be empty.

-Really?

-And it's every hour exactly the same thing.

That is the secret of Swiss time keeping!

Exactly.

It's my cue to return to the platform

and recommence my route along the tracks of Edwardian travellers.

The signal box is looking after us every kilometre of the way.

I'm leaving the city behind and heading towards the Swiss landscapes

promised in my 1913 guide.

I've been lucky enough to experience some very beautiful train journeys,

but this one, along the southern shore of Lake Zurich,

must be one of the very best.

My Bradshaw's paints a wonderful picture, saying,

"On either hand, sloping meadows rise from the water's edge,

"the higher lands being clothed with vineyards and orchards".

I'm hoping it's just the first of many views that will amaze.

My journey across Switzerland now enters a new phase.

I've left behind the big city of Zurich and I'm headed for the Alps.

I can trace my journey on the pull-out map.

My train started in Zurich,

moved along the southern shores of Lake Zurich,

and then it will go down towards Chur.

From Chur, one of Europe's most scenic train journeys

will carry me west.

At Goschenen, I'll join the engineering triumph,

the Gotthard line, before crossing by boat to Lucerne.

I'll then stop off at Meiringen's famous Reichenbach Falls,

en route to a station 3,500 metres above sea level.

Danke!

What better to accompany the Swiss mountains

than a rugged range of Swiss cheeses?

Nowadays, it's winter sports that bring people to the Alps

and I'm on my way to discover how that story began

in the age of my 1913 guide.

I'm changing train in Chur.

My Bradshaw's tells me it's "The capital of the canton of the Grisons.

"1,935 feet above sea,

"the Curia Rhaetorum of the Romans,

"in an attractive situation on the River Plessur.

"In the winter, skating and skiing,"

while in summer, like today, there's no snow to be seen,

but this important railway junction is gateway to a lovely ski region

and British tourists played an important part in its development.

To find out more, I'm taking one of the most spectacular trips

that the nation has to offer the Glacier Express.

The moment you get on the Glacier Express, it has a special feel,

because, of course, there's so much more light

because of these windows all along the roof line

and it looks like everyone on board

is going to be tucking into a very good lunch.

The Glacier Express links two

of Switzerland's most famous ski resorts, St Moritz and Zermatt.

The complete trip takes over seven hours, winning the service

the reputation as the slowest express train in the world.

These panoramic tourist trains have been in use for only 30 years,

but the line was completed back in the 1930s,

when it first began to carry eager skiers to the Alps.

-Hello, Guido.

-Hello, Mike.

-How lovely to see you. Have a seat.

-Thank you.

'Guido Ratti is joining me

'to explain how the winter holiday was born right here in Switzerland.'

British tourists.

They are really the founder of winter tourism and winter sports.

Which is very surprising, because we have really no mountains

and very little snow.

Yes, but if you allow, British people are very special,

sometimes a little bit crazy

and they like to have action.

Until the 1860s, British thrill-seekers

contented themselves with summer hiking trips

through the Alpine scenery.

But then an enterprising hotelier from nearby St Moritz,

keen to extend the season, had a brainwave.

We had the famous bet of Mr Johannes Badrutt,

he owned the Hotel Kulm.

And he made a bet with his English guests -

they should come in winter and he promised them

if they come in winter and they don't like it,

he would pay the journey from London to St Moritz and back.

I was told they came at Christmas time

and left St Moritz only after Easter.

They probably did in those days, they were people of leisure.

Sold on the idea of Switzerland in the winter,

the British soon took to skating and skiing,

but that wasn't enough for the biggest adrenaline addicts.

First they came, of course, for skiing, but as British people

are very special and very sporty, they founded the skeleton sport,

the bob sport. Even horse racing in St Moritz was due to British people.

Horse racing in St Moritz?

Yes, of course, on the frozen lake, we have a very special race.

We have a full-blood horse, without jockey,

but a skier in his back and this is a very exciting race.

A racehorse towing a skier - fantastic.

Some of the hair-raising pursuits founded by British tourists

continue today, including the infamous Cresta run.

But winter sports weren't just for the adventurous few.

In the early 20th century, British entrepreneur Henry Lunn

organised the first package ski holidays

and, by 1913, the trains were bringing over 1,000 winter tourists

to the Alps every year.

My Bradshaw's guide of 1913 has a lot of timetables in it

and I noticed that in 1913 you could get on the train in London

and it lists all the way down to getting off in St Moritz.

That's amazing, isn't it?

That's true. That was a very special tourist train

and you went, after a journey of 24 hours,

you were from London in St Moritz.

Yes. It's extraordinary, isn't it? 100 years ago it was just 24 hours

-from one world to a completely different universe.

-That's true.

It's astonishing to think that downhill skiing in Switzerland

is less than 150 years old.

But travelling on this extraordinary train today,

it's easy to see why people want to enjoy this landscape all year round.

It's a new day, and I can't wait to get started on the next section

of my guidebook's recommended route.

My Bradshaw's Guide is breathless about the next stage of my journey.

"Limits of space preclude any attempt

"to describe the journey from Goschenen to Fluelen,

"as the train glides through engineering triumphs

"that constitute the Saint Gotthard line."

I fear that I too may be lost for words,

as clearly I experience one of the great train rides of my life.

When the Gotthard line opened in 1882,

it marked a turning point in this country's railway history.

WHISTLE BLOWS

Although it wasn't the first to conquer the Swiss Alps,

it did involve building the world's longest tunnel,

at a cost of 200 lives.

Between Goschenen and my next stop,

the line has to drop over 2,000 feet,

and the engineer came up with a clever way

to keep the gradient as shallow as possible.

To make the descent, the train has to go through a series of loops,

as my Bradshaw's says,

"With a tunnel and a bridge every few yards."

These are the engineering triumphs

and I'm going to leap around from side to side of the train

trying to catch a glimpse of where I'm going and where I've been.

Thanks to the line's ingenious design, the scenery appears to shift

around you as the train corkscrews ever deeper into the valley.

So that pretty church, the church of Wassen...

appeared now on my right.

I believe we are going to see it on different sides of the train

as we wind our way down.

How did that happen?

In a few moments the church has switched sides.

It was on the right, now it's on the left.

The Gotthard line shows just how far Swiss railways had come

by the turn of the 20th century.

The sheer vision and ambition demonstrated by blasting a line

through the towering Alps astonishes me.

It put Switzerland at the heart of the European railway network.

It's brought me to Fluelen,

where I'm swapping the train for another form of transport.

So, my Bradshaw's tells me that here at Fluelen,

"We embark upon the southern arm of Lake Lucerne,

"and many pleasant excursions may be made by the steamer services."

If I'm going to continue to enjoy this wonderful scenery,

it's time for me to get aboard.

I'm taking a boat trip from the southernmost tip of the lake

right to the top and my 1913 guidebook

is packed with landmarks to look out for on the way.

My Bradshaw's says, "As we leave Fluelen, on the left,

"in the hollow between the peaks of the Uri-Rotstock,

"a glacier is plainly seen.

"And in a line from the glacier,

"on the lake's shore, is the dynamite factory of Isleten."

I'll give you a prize if you can think why there's a dynamite factory

in such a noble and peaceful place.

Dynamite was invented in the 19th century and was a vital tool

for the railway engineers carving new routes through the mountains.

The factory here was established by dynamite's inventor,

the famous chemist, Alfred Nobel.

His explosives were later used extensively in war,

but he wanted to be remembered for something more positive.

On his death, Alfred Nobel left a legacy,

which was to form a prize to be awarded to those who did,

"The most or the best work for fraternity amongst nations,

"for the abolition or reduction of standing armies

"and for the promotion of peace congresses."

My 1913 Bradshaw's lyrically describes Lake Lucerne as,

"A narrow sheet of water, with lofty, wall-like, forest-clad mountains,

"rising sheer out of the water on either side"

Its beauty is today in no way diminished,

but not everyone on board seems to appreciate it.

-Hello, gentlemen.

-Hello.

-May I sit down for a second?

-Yeah.

So...

you're travelling on the boat through this beautiful scenery,

but you're playing cards. Why don't you look at the scenery?

We know it.

Ah!

Do you travel very frequently, then?

No, we live over there.

Why are you on the boat if you know it so well?

We are a carnival group and every year

we make a little journey...

The locals may be blase, but I can just imagine the wonder

that British Edwardian tourists

must have felt experiencing this landscape.

And I'm now approaching one of their most favoured holiday spots.

Bradshaw's says that,

"Lucerne is perhaps the most beautifully-situated tourist centre in Europe.

"Surrounded on three sides by exquisitely wooded hills

"with a magnificent prospect over a small arm of the lake."

And to judge by the pages of advertisements for hotels,

it was, at the beginning of the 20th century,

a very popular tourist resort.

But I'm here in pursuit of one of my personal heroes

from the 19th century.

In the 1860s, the musical genius Richard Wagner

joined the growing numbers of wealthy families

drawn to Lucerne's stunning waterfront.

He made his home in the suburb of Tribschen,

in this luxurious lakeside villa.

In 1913, fans making the pilgrimage here were disappointed,

as it was still a private house.

Luckily for me, in the 1930s, the city of Lucerne

finally responded to the flood of visitors

by turning it into a museum.

I'm meeting the museum's manger, Yvonne Bieder.

-Hi.

-Lovely to see you.

I'm quite a fan of the opera composer Richard Wagner.

What years was he living in this house?

He spent six years of his life in this house from 1866 to '72.

Were these quite happy years for the composer?

Very happy years, yes.

He said they were the happiest of his life.

German-born Wagner moved to Switzerland from Munich

and was closely followed by his married lover, Cosima von Bulow.

Two of their three children were born here

and, in 1870, he finally married his mistress in Lucerne.

Wagner is best known for music that's big and loud

but this stunning setting and the birth of his son, Siegfried,

inspired a dreamy kind of work.

So, as a surprise for her 33rd birthday,

Richard Wagner composed a very nice piece of music

called Siegfried's Idyll,

and it was performed for the very first time on this staircase.

He was standing exactly here and conducting,

and all the musicians standing upwards

and downwards the staircase and around him.

And Cosima woke to hear this orchestra playing.

Yes, she was so moved.

I know a lot of people wonder what surprise birthday present

they should give their wives. Now they know -

they just have to compose a piece of music and bring in an orchestra.

Yes, exactly!

Wagner's birthday composition

was originally entitled the Triebschen Idyll,

which was how he referred to his lakeside home.

And I'm being treated to a piano duet version of the work,

performed on a very special instrument.

The piece is now being played on Wagner's piano.

Yes, his original Erard grand piano,

standing in the same corner as the period he was living in this house.

Thank you so very much. I enjoyed that enormously.

You know many people think of Wagner

as being loud and bombastic and tuneless

and yet this is very, very soft and loving and very melodious.

This is kind of Wagner for Wagner-haters.

I can see why this most stunning of Swiss cities

inspired Wagner's gentlest music.

I'm now taking to the tracks again,

to make one last journey before nightfall.

Every year, thousands of tourists

come to Switzerland on railway holidays

and it's great to be among so many like-minded travellers.

You've got your map of Switzerland out, are you doing a grand tour?

We are, we are trying to InterRail the old railway lines

and boats of Switzerland.

You're a man after my own heart, doing it all by railway.

Are you an aficionado of trains?

I wouldn't say so, but we went InterRailing 20 years ago

and we wanted to do it again with our kids and see the changes.

And there are some. It's not as easy as it used to be.

-No?

-Switzerland, you can still hop on and hop off,

but the rest of Europe,

you really have to pre-plan and do your reservations.

-Ah, yes.

-So it's not as easy.

But Switzerland is a good place for railways, isn't it?

Oh, it's excellent.

After a long day's travel, my 1913 guidebook has led me

to a dramatic Alpine valley and, I hope, my bed for the night.

I've spent the night in Meiringen, at the Hotel du Sauvage,

barely changed since 1880.

I am allegedly not the first Englishman to stay in this hostelry.

"In this hotel, called by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle The Englischer Hof,

"Mr Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson spent the night of 3rd-4th May, 1891."

I can't wait to find out what happened next.

Out on the streets, the Sherlock Holmes connection is obvious,

but I wonder whether visitors to Meiringen

know why Britain's favourite detective will be for ever linked

to this Swiss town.

Do you know about Sherlock Holmes?

-The detective?

-Yes.

-Sherlock Holmes? Ja, wir kennen das.

Ah-ah!

Do you remember any Sherlock Holmes stories?

HE HOWLS

He always had the...

Erm, pipe?

ALL: Chipuk.

Ah-ha!

Ja, das ist ganz typisch Sherlock Holmes.

Yeah. Ganz typisch Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock Holmes?

-The Reichenbach Falls.

-He died...

-He's dead.

-..Here.

In 1893,

Arthur Conan Doyle famously chose the Reichenbach Falls,

just outside Meiringen, as the setting for Sherlock Holmes's death.

And ever since then, fans have been visiting the scene of the crime.

Reaching the spot on foot entails a gruelling climb,

but since 1899, there's been a more restful route to the top.

My Bradshaw's says, "On the south side of Meiringen,

"in the summer, the Reichenbach Falls

"are illuminated by electricity.

"An electric rail runs from near the Hotel Reichenbach."

No mention there of the famous fictional detective.

I think because every reader knew about Sherlock Holmes,

and the Reichenbach Falls were a notorious household name.

Conan Doyle decided on the Reichenbach Falls

as the scene of Holmes's shocking demise

after visiting them on a summer holiday.

Guy Marriott is from the Sherlock Holmes Society of London.

-Guy!

-Oh, Michael.

-Hello. How good to see you.

Nothing prepared me for the Reichenbach Falls,

they are absolutely tremendous.

No wonder that Conan Doyle set his melodrama here.

They are looking particularly good today.

They are looking as Conan Doyle would have seen them

when he was here in the summer of 1893.

What had led Conan Doyle to kill off Sherlock Holmes?

Conan Doyle was tired of the character of Sherlock Holmes.

He had been writing monthly stories for The Strand magazine.

He was finding it difficult to think of good plots

and he felt that Sherlock distracted him from more important work.

As in many of his Holmes stories, Conan Doyle's intended last case

for the great detective, The Final Problem, features a railway journey.

Like all good Victorians, Holmes and Watson knew the best way

to plan a trip by train.

Holmes, more particularly Watson,

made very good use of Bradshaw's, didn't they?

Yes, they did, they had in their rooms at 221b Baker Street,

a copy of each month's Bradshaw's railway timetable

and on several occasions in the stories,

it's recorded that Holmes instructs Watson to check Bradshaw

in order find the best time of a train

to whichever destination they need to go to because a case has arisen.

No journey can begin without Bradshaw.

In The Final Problem, Holmes and Watson travel by train further afield.

Staying ahead of criminal mastermind Moriarty,

they journey to Switzerland

and decide to make the steep climb to the Reichenbach Falls.

But just before they reach a narrow ledge at the edge of the torrent,

Dr Watson receives a message calling him back to the hotel.

When Watson finally returns,

having discovered, of course, that it's a hoax that has taken him back,

he finds no trace of either Holmes or Moriarty,

instead only a hand-written note from Holmes,

saying that Moriarty has found him here

and they are going to fight out the issues between them.

Watson concludes that both men have plunged to their deaths,

and his devastation was shared by Holmes's many fans.

It is said, although this is probably apocryphal,

that clerks in the City went to work wearing black crepe armbands,

in memory of the great detective.

-A moment's silence, I think.

-It seems appropriate.

But Holmes's body hadn't been found

and that left readers with a sliver of hope.

Despite Conan Doyle's resolve,

he was eventually persuaded to revive his hero

and went on writing cases until his own death in 1930.

Like Sherlock Holmes, I rely on Bradshaw's.

Unlike Sherlock Holmes, I've made it back from the Reichenbach Falls

to continue my journey.

I'm now embarking on the final leg of my Swiss trip

and I'm departing from my guidebook's recommended route.

I'm making a long ascent, which takes me via Interlaken

ever upwards through the Alps,

towards Europe's highest railway station, Jungfraujoch.

The Swiss may have been slow starters

when it came to the railways, but as this journey's shown me,

they came to build ever more impressive and daring lines.

I've come to Kleine Scheidegg to experience

what might just be the apogee of Swiss railway engineering.

I'm about to begin the very last stage of my journey,

on the Jungfrau railway, which Bradshaw's tells me, "Is 7 1/2 miles long and was begun in 1896.

"The line ascends from Kleine Scheidegg

"through narrow tunnels to the Eismeer at 10,275 feet,

"the Monch at 10,995 feet

"and Jungfraujoch at 11,090 feet."

It's one of the epic railway journeys of our continent.

This extraordinary line opened just a year before the publication

of my 1913 guide and, a century after it was built,

its final station remains the highest in Europe.

It attracts over 750,000 visitors every year

and my companion for the final ascent is Roland Fontanive.

So now our journey begins, our epic journey to the top.

The audacious Jungfrau line project

was the brainchild of Swiss entrepreneur

and passionate promoter of the railways, Adolf Guyer-Zeller.

His brilliant plan was to harness the power

of a local mountain river,

creating a state-of-the-art electric cog railway to the summit.

The railway always was electric. What were the old carriages like?

They was by wood, they was much slower than this train.

Maybe 10 minutes more to go up.

Do you have any of those original cars?

We have only one, one here in Kleine Scheidegg.

You can rent for... maybe for special days

or for honeymoon like this.

Quite an idea for a honeymoon, to rent a 1912 car and come up here.

The hydroelectric plant built for the railway

was one of the first in Europe.

But the biggest challenge was building the line itself.

To reach the Jungfraujoch, tunnels had to be bored through

two of the tallest peaks in the Alps - the Eiger and the Monch.

And soon after leaving Kleine Scheidegg,

the train is plunged into darkness.

When you hear you're going to go up a mountain,

you don't expect it to be an underground railway experience,

-but it is, isn't it?

-Yes.

Seven of the line's nine kilometres are in tunnel,

but beyond them is some of Europe's best alpine scenery.

Panoramic windows carved into the rock at each station

provide passengers with views that make your jaw drop,

over features such as the Eismeer, or ice sea.

Very impressive. This is the ice sea here, is it?

Yes, that's correct, yes.

And so this the Eiger now going up above us.

That's the south face of the Eiger here.

And you see how the glacier goes down to Grindelwald.

It's really beautiful and impressive isn't it?

When the line was first proposed,

there were concerns that ascending to this altitude at speed

was a risk to health.

Guyer-Zeller even commissioned a medical report

to allay people's fears.

And, approaching the summit, you can understand why they were worried.

Well, Roland, we're here. I can really feel it in my breathing.

I'm having to take long breaths.

I'd better walk rather slowly, I think.

Yes, and welcome to Jungfraujoch, top of Europe.

Thank you.

So here I am at 11,333 feet at the Jungfraujoch,

that is to say, the saddle of the Jungfrau mountain.

This is nicknamed The Top of Europe.

After all, it is about three times as high

as any piece of land in the United Kingdom.

The climax of the long journey to the top is a visit

to the Sphinx building, perched on a rock 117 metres above the station.

Tourists come for the spectacular views

but ever since the 1930s,

the visiting crowds have shared the mountain-top with scientists.

The High Alpine research station

is today looked after by two custodian-couples

and for Maria and Urs Otz,

this inhospitable spot is a part-time home.

-Hello, Maria, I'm Michael.

-Hi, Michael.

Hello, Michael. Lovely to see you.

At first, scientists came here to research high-altitude medicine

and astronomy, but recent work has helped to document climate change

and charted the impact of the Icelandic volcanic eruption in 2010.

Maria and Urs send daily weather observations

to Zurich from their remarkable home in the sky.

-So, this is our terrace.

-This is absolutely divine.

Your terrace, yes. A very special terrace.

And this fantastic valley, what is this?

-That's the Aletsch glacier.

-It's a huge glacier.

And the place you see there, there are coming three glaciers together.

The deepness of the glacier there is about 900 metres.

900 metres?!

Yes, and that's the longest glacier of the Alps.

It's about 23 kilometres long.

That is awe-inspiring.

As I marvel at what must be one of Europe's most spine-tingling vistas,

I can't think of a more fitting end to my Swiss railway adventure.

Here, at the top of Europe, cutting edge science

and technology are juxtaposed with the raw beauty of the Alps.

Switzerland is a country of exceptions.

It lies at the heart of our continent

and yet it isn't a member of the European Union.

Its rail engineers helped to make it special

by taming this wild landscape.

Where else by 1913 could you have constructed

an electric underground railway to a station above the clouds?

Next time, I'll experience fin de siecle opulence

in the Low Countries.

Feels like you want to take a bath in it.

Yeah, you would like to take a bath in it.

Following my guidebook...

It's like a railway bible.

..To the Western Front where from 1914,

tourists were replaced with soldiers,

facing the horrors of the trenches.

He was one of the 72,000 people who never had a grave.

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