Featured image: Claudia connects with her roots and explores ancestry travel in Switzerland | Photo by Claudia Laroye

Connecting my family’s relationships with strangers across time and space

by Claudia Laroye

Starting my journey in Adelboden

Recently, I’ve become enamoured with the concept of fate and the Chinese legend of the red thread. This myth emphasizes the idea of predestined relationships and suggests that regardless of the obstacles and challenges that come in between, the red thread ensures that people will ultimately find their way to one another. It can be associated with both romantic or platonic relationships, but the core message remains the same: the red thread represents the invisible ties that bind people together.

Before reaching Appenzell, I spend time in one of my favourite Swiss alpine villages, Adelboden. I have a strong family connection with this picturesque hamlet in the Bernese Alps; the village is where my mother and her family escaped for fresh air (to alleviate a brother’s asthma) and to enjoy snow sports in winter and hiking in summer.

The autumnal fog and low clouds obscure the snow-capped tops of the surrounding mountains, including my favourite, Engstligenalp and its famous waterfall, the second highest in Switzerland. But the moody weather doesn’t dissuade me from meeting my mountain biking guide at 9 am sharp for an energetic, if soggy morning ride into the hills.

Andi Oester, a fit 30-something cyclist and ski instructor has grown up in the nearby valley and lives close to where my grandmother once rented a chalet apartment. Settling into easy conversation as we pedal up the gravel path, it turns out we know some of the same people, including his uncle who used to work in North America, and my grandmother’s former landlady. Riding the winding mountain trails back to the village’s main street, I feel the low hum of the red thread of connection at work.

Breinz, where the connection strengthens

That hum slowly grows into a roar when I travel to Brienz, about 20 minutes east of Interlaken, to visit Ballenberg, the expansive Swiss open-air museum. My guide Marianne Spielmann, dressed in a traditional Bernese folk costume topped with a flowery straw hat, and I stroll portions of the park’s 10 km interactive trail, on a time travel tour of the more than 100 historic buildings gathered from around the country – a portal illuminating centuries of Switzerland’s culture and architecture.

‘I think it’s a good thing to have preserved and moved these buildings to Ballenberg. It shows people how Swiss used to live,” says Spielmann, as we exit a massive 17th-century farmhouse whose interior is divided between the dwelling units of its former human and bovine inhabitants.

I’ve struck the jackpot with Marianne. It turns out she used to live in Calgary and Winnipeg for 30 years before moving back to nearby Meiringen to be close to family. She volunteers as a guide during the summer months, sharing the beauty of Ballenberg with visitors from around the world. During our walk and talk, I tell her that before emigrating to Canada, my mother studied to be a secretary in Bern.

“Was it at the Töchterhandelsschule (THB)?,” asks Marianne. She had done the same, attending the secretarial school from 1963 to 1966. I promise to find out, and after sharing a lunch of cheese and rösti (delicious grated and fried potatoes), we exchange emails to keep in touch.

I could feel the crimson connection positively vibrating at this point, and sure enough, a quick email later that evening confirms that my mother had indeed attended the same secretarial school, though she’d graduated earlier, in 1960. My mom burst out laughing remembering the names of past teachers they’d shared more than 60+ years ago.

Now halfway through my journey, I was past the point of questioning the serendipitous events tying my and my family’s relationships with strangers across time and space. It was all too unexpectedly wonderful.

 Stay connected here with an Airalo eSIM. Use code JOURNEY10 for 10% off.

A return to Appenzell

It was time to head east. Appenzell is one of the most traditional regions in Switzerland. Rick Steves wrote that you could set your watch back 10 years when crossing the cantonal border. There are still some villages where decisions are made by direct democracy and a show of hands: the Landsgemeinde is a 700-year tradition of an open-air assembly in which citizens gather to vote on key political decisions.

While no ancient assembly is taking place during my visit, the Alps and many of the farmhouses likely look the same as they did when my mother played in the garden with her cousins 75 years ago. The locals have a reverence for the past – my charming room at the Appenzeller Huus is in a renovated 11th-century house.

This thought brings me no small amount of joy as I trek along the narrow mountain trail winding steadily upwards through a brilliantly blazing fall forest. My lunch destination overlooks Seealpsee, one of the Alpstein region’s most beautiful and popular destinations.

From here, I could walk higher on a steep path to the 19th century wooden Aescher Hut carved into the rocky cliffside of Ebenalp, overlooking the scenic Appenzeller river valley. But time is running short, so I opt for the handy cable car and am whisked to the mountain top, walking 10 short minutes towards the Hut, enjoying fantastic views with every step on this unexpectedly warm fall day.

Pulling up a seat at the outdoor patio in the bright sunshine, I down a cold glass of Ovomaltine, the classic Swiss malted milk drink, in my mother’s honour, giving a saucy wink and nod to the red thread of fate and the ties that bind.

Read More on Ancestry Travel