There are a lot of ways to spend Father’s Day—some dads like to go golfing, some get socks, some get to sleep in. Since Sheila had already volunteered to help out at the Fête Fédérale de Gymnastique, I spent most of actual Fathers day at the apartment cleaning, vacuuming, dusting, and mopping (like a good father should!) Sheila and Cedar had a plan to celebrate properly a bit later—with a Tuesday train ride on the cogwheel line from Montreux to Rochers de Naye.
We’ve spent a lot of time in the Montreux train station, and our regular train from Chernex pulls in right beside the historic cogwheel cars. So we’ve had plenty of time to admire their Belle Époque charm and solid Swiss engineering. The train itself dates back to the late 1800s and winds its way up from Montreux to over 2,000 meters, stopping at the mountain-top station at Rochers de Naye.
We set out from Chernex mid-morning, and hit our first hiccup right away—we hadn’t expected the train to be standing room only. So the start of the ride was a bit more chaotic than anticipated. Still, it’s the kind of ride that forces you to slow down—literally. The train tops out at about 25 km/h, and with the steep grades, that’s probably for the best.
The higher we climbed, the more the lake stretched out below us, sparkling in the summer sun. Cedar, now a seasoned veteran of steep mountain trains, bounced between windows pointing things out and narrating his own mountain explorer’s tale to anyone that would listen.
The day was gorgeous—sunny and warm—and at the summit a pleasant breeze greeted us. We followed the gravel path toward the Rambertia Alpine Garden, but not before stopping at a lookout with a picnic table for our customary hiking wine. The 360-degree views were incredible. The smoke has now mostly cleared out, and we could see all the way to the Eiger, the Dents du Midi, and even Mont Blanc.
After our “hike” to the various viewpoints, we returned to the mountaintop restaurant and found a table with a view. Naturally, we ordered rösti—because what else do you eat when you’re celebrating Father’s Day in Switzerland?
The dish, I imagine, was designed for hardy Swiss hikers who actually earned their carbs. Even though we took the easy way up, there’s something deeply satisfying about eating a good mountain rösti at this (or really any) altitude.
There was no rush. After lunch, Cedar enjoyed an ice cream while Sheila and I enjoyed a couple of cold beers at the summit.
As far as Father’s Days go, this one was just about perfect. Sure I didn’t get socks, but I got rösti, sunshine, a train ride through the mountains, and some quality time with the people I love. And a view I won’t soon forget.
