Edelweiss are flowering beneath pines, and farmers are patrolling fields in juddery petrol mowers when I arrive at the foot of Bannalp, a sheer cliff soaring heavenwards. I’m hiking through the tiny village of Fellboden, 16 miles south of Lucerne in Switzerland. Such is the tight knot of mountains around the village that a pylon-strung gondola soars straight upwards from here, like Jack’s beanstalk, to the rockface’s top.
As I get closer, the cableway I’m about to ride shifts into focus, revealing a series of suspended tin-can cabins that shiver in the breeze. The golden light picks out some hair-raising details: the rustic contraptions are exposed to the elements like a cabriolet — and like an autorickshaw have no compartment sides or windows.
The Alpine spring hiking season is about to begin and, while it’s possible to get pretty much wherever you want in the Swiss Alps by superfast cable car these days, the nostalgic, no-frills Buiräbähnli lifts are the connoisseur walker’s alternative. Built over the past century by dairy, goat and cattle farmers to transport supplies and materials to their homes on the least-accessible pastures of the Uri Alps around Engelberg, eight vintage cable cars have been opened to the public by their owners, who have formed an alliance and created a self-guided 30-mile hiking circuit along trails between them. Designed by the Engelberg tourism office, the trails are split into different stages that you can hike individually or do as a two or three-day trek.
The low-tech farmers’ lifts are a rarity in the Alps — there are 26 Buiräbähnli cable cars in central Switzerland, including the eight in Engelberg — and they are wildly different to the speedy, comfortable and high-tech lifts of the region’s many ski resorts. They operate year-round because the farmers still rely on them.
The lifts’ appeal is as much about what they symbolise as the thrill of the access they provide. For me, these rickety old mechanisms make clear that it’s still possible to discover Switzerland as it was half a century ago — and to be transported back to another time.
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After a night in Engelberg, where the high mountains seem coated in a sugary sheen, I check out of Hotel Bellevue-Terminus next to the train station and walk into the sun, rucksack on my shoulder and map in hand. My plan from here is to use the lifts to yo-yo up and down the valley on a clockwise two-day hike, overnighting at the halfway point in a traditional hut, then return triumphant, all while gazing at diamond-cut summits. And at CHF5 (£4.50) a trip, each pay-as-you-go, honesty-box lift ride, it’s far more affordable than the swanky funiculars and gondolas visitors to the Swiss Alps have become accustomed to.
The action begins soon after I leave the village. A herd of cattle block the way through a field of wildflowers. The path runs up alongside a thunderous waterfall. A tributary gushes over the trail and, holding my socks and shoes, the icy water feels like needles jabbing into my bare feet. An hour uphill later, it’s a relief to see the first cableway appear — but my mood quickly sours. It is at a standstill.
The Buiräbähnlis are still operated by the families who built them. That translates as an on-demand service — an old-school Uber of the Alps — which adds to the charm, but means you need to track down the farmers between their haymaking, herding, mowing and milking first to get them to crank them into action. Again, the old-timey oddness is overwhelming.
But meeting these characters is part of the trip’s appeal. Among them are stoic mountain man Tony Töngi and his mother — who run one of the most daunting cable cars in the Alps, the Rugisbalmbahn, which was built 70 years ago. Ask Tony and he’ll tell you that, before the precipitous access road was built in 1993, he used the open-air cabins to get to school. Indeed, if you have a fear of heights — or unkempt hair — know that it first plummets from the glacial Lutersee, before rocketing off a 200m-high overhanging cliff.
Before that white-knuckle thrill, the Buiräbähnli tradition is that you climb inside the compartment and get the wheels in motion by pressing the buttons yourself. There are language challenges, but for a crash course, remember that “auf” is “up”, “ab” is “down” and, whatever you do, keep your fingers away from “schneller” (“faster”). The differing control panels can be puzzling, but there is always a telephone receiver to ask for help.
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“Bitte tür schliessen,” Mrs Töngi orders me, when the phone is finally answered. “Please close the door.” She apologies profusely — something to do with making soup in the farmhouse kitchen — and moments later I’m airborne. My Swiss-German is rudimentary at best, but I don’t need to be told twice to make sure the tiny passenger door is glued tight.
For the next couple of hours, I pinball through the Engelberg Valley, taking the lifts up or down and hiking between each station. One last cable car from Wolfenschiessen takes me up to Berghof Brändlen, a cut-off mountain farm with no road access, but 45 cows, four ponies, cats, dogs, a peacock, and a dormitory, double rooms and an apartment for hikers.
The farmer’s daughter, Rita Schmitter, who helps to maintain generations of mountain tradition with her father, Ueli, says that increased operating costs encouraged her family to open their private gondola to the public — a move quickly justified when others in neighbouring valleys had to close.
“This is the first time we’ve welcomed international hikers,” she says, greeting me with open arms. “People here are supportive of what we’re doing because there is loyalty to keep things the way they’ve always been.” Tradition and a sense of identity are the essence of the Buiräbähnli. But the feeling is also that without tourism this sacred way of life might one day come undone.
Not much later, dinner for one is served in the farm kitchen: a frying pan-sized potato rösti crowned with forkfuls of fried egg and smoked lardons, like an English breakfast turned inside out. Out in the darkening valley, a silver thread of river lies far beneath us, circled by crisp-edged mountains. The village below feels decades away.
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While the Uri Alps is a land less lived in, it is not one defined by emptiness. Under the glare of the sun, the next day unfolds and I move through the scenery like a player on a snakes and ladders board.
The Alpine forests of central Switzerland burst into life below the black and brilliant white summits and, over the course of six hours, I hike a high ridge line, battling the desire to constantly stop and drink in the view.
At the second to last Buiräbähnli of my two-day tour, I stop to read an information board beside the Oberspies to Sinsgäu cableway. It tells the story of its owner, Josef Durrer, a retired farmer who has lived his entire life in the high pasturelands. He now takes the days at a slower pace, it reads, and his gondolas are the most historic on the circuit — dubbed the “Niederberg ships” of the sky. Just then a short figure bounds out towards me from the farmhouse nearby waving a hand. It is Josef, in a woollen sweater and mucky boots, and he couldn’t be happier to see his newest passenger. It’s difficult not to buy in to his enthusiasm.
A moment later, he packs me into my own private cable car with a wraparound mountain view — a roofless cabriolet, perhaps 4ft high, 6ft long and just wide enough for one. “Now this will take you somewhere special,” he says, grinning.
And with the wind mussing my hair and the hum of the wheelhouse in the distance, the farmer waves at me until he is a speck, sending me to a part of the country that he loves, so that I can love it too.
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Mike MacEacheran was a guest of Engelberg Tourism, which has a Buiräbähnli Pass for £42pp, which includes one ride on each lift, or it’s £4.50pp for single-ride lift tickets (engelberg.ch). Tickets can also be purchased at the Engelberg tourist information office. Half-board doubles at Berghof Brändlen from £83 (berghof.ch); B&B doubles at Hotel Bellevue-Terminus from £160 (bellevue-terminus.ch). More information at myswitzerland.com
Four more walking holidays using mountain lifts
By Sean Newsom
Explore the Chamonix valley, France
It’s not just the Alps’ tallest peak that will give you goosebumps on this trip. All along the Chamonix valley, you’ll see saw-toothed ridges and serene, verdant meadows ― and explore many of its most spectacular landscapes. Each hike on this guided Highlights of Mont Blanc holiday is a day trip from your hotel base in Les Houches, with cable cars and gondolas doing much of the uphill work. The longest hike is no more than eight miles and the toughest climb 457m, so you’ll have plenty of time to stare slack-jawed at the views.
Details Seven nights’ B&B from £1,410pp, including lifts and most meals (explore.co.uk). Fly to Geneva
Neustift in Austria’s Tirol
Sprinkled with cute hotels and farmhouses, and topped off by a glacier, the Stubaital serves up the Tirol in a nutshell. This self-guided Alpine Stroll itinerary is the perfect beginner’s guide. Based in a central four-star hotel, you can take your pick from six walks and three excursions, with all four of the mountain hikes beginning with a cable car. The longest walk is six miles and thanks to the lift, involves only 30m of ascent, as you explore the serene Pinnistal side valley.
Details Seven nights’ full board from £1,150pp, including lifts (inntravel.co.uk). Fly or take the train to Innsbruck or Munich
Zermatt, Switzerland
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In summer, few lift systems unlock an entire, top-to-bottom Alpine landscape in the way that Zermatt’s does ― and this self-guided Home of the Matterhorn itinerary makes full use of it. From your four-star hotel in the middle of town you’ll ride funicular railways as well as cable cars and, on day five, reach the dizzy height of 3,880m on the Klein Matterhorn’s viewing platform. Essentially, each day’s hike is a two to five-hour descent, with the snaggle-toothed spike of the Matterhorn your constant companion.
Details Seven nights’ half-board from £1,926pp including flights and rail transfers (headwater.com). Life passes £110. Fly to Zurich
Whistler, Canada
The last word in lift-assisted hiking comes from Whistler on Canada’s west coast. Here, at the top of North America’s biggest and buzziest mountain resort, the 2.7-mile Peak to Peak gondola will whisk you nearly 457m above a forested valley, between the shoulders of Blackcomb and Whistler mountains (multi-day lift tickets cost £76). The resort offers 30 miles of waymarked footpaths in all ― and more than 50 miles of mountain-bike trails in its world-class bike park, so this could be the place to swap two feet for two wheels and try a day of lift-assisted biking. At the base of Blackcomb mountain, the Fairmont Chateau Whistler offers a palatial base.
Details Room-only doubles from £318 a night (booking.com). Fly to Vancouver
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