The sidewalk along the Aare River is congested with wet and happy Swiss, hiking upstream in swimsuits just to float back into town. I join them—marveling at how this exercise brings out the silly in a people who are generally anything but goofy.
Every hundred yards a railing with concrete steps leads into the rushing river, which looks glacial blue but is surprisingly warm. Leaping in, I’m immediately caught up in the current and propelled toward the grand capital city of Switzerland amid carefree swimmers and a flotilla of rubber life rafts.
Nearing the Marzilibad park, I stroke over to snare a metal railing. I’m always a bit nervous that I’ll miss the last one and rush toward the city’s scary weir and, it seems, oblivion. Hanging onto the railing was a tanned and wiry grandmother and several giddy children, clearly enjoying an afternoon going up and down the river….
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