Exploring Switzerland Is Timeless Occupation

Though opposed to generalizations, in general, I find some that are hard to counter. It’s said, for example, that the Swiss are tidy, orderly and punctual. The evidence supports the claim.

In Fribourg, a town of 40,000 on the language border where Swiss French meets Swiss German, a young guide was telling me the facts of local life.

“You have seen our cathedral and our funicular and our famous sewing machine museum,” she said as the bus pulled uphill from the 12th-Century Old Town.

“Now I will show you our red-light district. There it is on the left. Do you see the sign?”

She pointed to a small cafe, which seemed to be shuttered at noon. Our bus did not slow.

“That was it?” someone asked. The guide nodded.

“The girls are not allowed to go on the streets in Fribourg before 8 p.m.,” she said in the same earnest voice that had described the rose window, hidden from sight by the pipe organ, in St. Nicholas Cathedral. “Most of the girls are Asian. But a few are Swiss.”

Her national pride extended to embroidery machines and other stitchery gear at the Sewing Machine Museum--an outgrowth of a Fribourg family collection--in the vaults of an old stone house.

“Singer was Swiss,” she said, pointing out antique treadle machines that were painted with hearts and flowers. One sewing machine was topped with a music box. Others were named Bernina and Helvetia. One drab model was imprinted with a name that made me smile: Swiss Army Sewing Machine. It bore no resemblance to the famed red knife.

I have since read that Isaac Merrit Singer was born in Pittstown, N.Y., and died in England. Maybe his ancestors were Swiss.

Bern is one of Europe’s best-preserved medieval towns. The United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) has proclaimed the 8OO-year-old city a world landmark, a heady designation it shares with Florence, Venice and the Taj Mahal.

And Bern’s idiosyncrasies are charming. The city, whose name is said to be derived from the German word for bear, has been keeping bears at public expense since the Middle Ages. They prowl and preen in spacious pits called the Barengraben at trolley stop No. 14.

Four miles of covered arcades line cobbled streets in the Old Town. Geraniums, the designated flower of window boxes, are watered and maintained by city crews throughout the historic area. Festive banners flutter from the gray stone buildings throughout the year.

Ancient watchtowers add to the storybook mood. My favorite is the Clock Tower that dates from the l2th Century.

The time to be there is three minutes before noon when a menagerie of figures springs into action. A rooster crows and flaps his wings. Armed bears march in procession. A jester rings small bells. Finally, a knight in armor strikes noon.

When the station was being expanded in the 1970s, excavation revealed remnants of the Old Town walls and arches. Today, back-packers can perch on them and, in winter, lean their skis against the stones.

Train travel is as efficient as everything else in Switzerland. An interval system is used in scheduling, so that if you miss the 7:46 a.m. train to Zurich you can catch one at 46 minutes past any hour up to 11:46 p.m.

I asked a railroad man in Bern if pets are allowed on Swiss trains.

“Oh yes,” he said. “You can travel with animals. Cats, birds in cages, puppies . . . but no cows.”

“That is a Swiss joke,” interjected his colleague.

As I boarded a train that evening, a conductor paused at my seat.

“We are 22 seconds late,” he said. “But do not worry. We will make it up.”

He was not joking.