Natur- und Tierpark Goldau

So clearly I didn't learn my lesson on Monday. This morning, I disrupted this peaceful scene

so that I could take the kids on another Adventure, this one south of Luzerne, about an hour away, to the Goldau Animal park.

While we were waiting for the bus, we bumped into the grandmother of one of Alex's classmates, and she asked us what we'd been up to. I told her about our upcoming trip to Paris and Bruges, and about our plans to go to the park that morning, and she shook her head at me: "For us Swiss, going to Bruges would be such a big deal.  Even going to the animal park would be a big deal.  But you're just up and doing it, like it's nothing. It's so American of you."  I didn't disillusion her, although of course I should have explained that, no, I'm just a crazy woman, and most Americans aren't as fanatical as I, dragging their husband and three kids hither and yon on a daily basis.  Of course, I did live in Texas for four years, where people don't blink at the thought of driving an hour to get to the mall, even.

But, more than that, I do these things because I'm my mother's daughter.

When we three kids rebelled and told her we really didn't want to go to summer camp another year (those counselors were cranky!) she decided that was fine, but there was no way in the world she'd let us waste our summer in front of the television.

So every single day she took us somewhere new.  There isn't a corner of Ohio or western Pennsylvania that we didn't explore over those summers.  The Warther Museum of whittling (also featuring Mrs. Warther's extensive button collection) in Dover? Been there. The Blue Hole of Castalia? Seen it. And I do believe we visited every single swimmable lake in Northern Ohio, and I even lost my retainer in one of them. (And my mom, bless her, didn't get mad. I'm still grateful for that. In return, I won't mention the time the coast guard fished us out of the water for swimming in a fishing-only lake in Pennsylvania.  There was an island in the middle of the lake that we thought looked like fun, and so my awesome mother told us to go for it, and innocently batted her eyelashes at the coastguard, getting us off with a warning and a ride back to the shore.)

And so that, my dears, is why we went to the Artur Goldau Park this morning.  Because my momma raised me right.

The park is divided into three sections. The largest is a long, winding trail up and down the side of a hill, dotted with glacial rocks and swarming with free-roaming deer and goats.  For two francs you can buy a small box of animal food (which we did not, this time, mistake for a mid-morning snack).

And oh, my word, did the children love this. I bought each of them a box of food, and they each rationed it carefully, giving the deer one tiny pellet of food at a time.  It seemed to be Joey's goal to feed every deer in the park exactly one piece of food.  And every deer he spotted received the same enthusiasm.  "LOOK! ANIMAL!" he'd shout, every time, taking off at a run, waving his box of food at the very patient creatures.

In one corner of the park was a fenced area, home to baby goats and bunnies.  Joey favored the latter, butting the goats back as they aggressively went after his food, chasing after the rabbits, soothingly crooning to them: "HEY! RABBIT!"

This area was utter chaos.  The goats were really, really pushy, and most of the kids in the enclosure were screaming, because they were afraid or hurt or their boxes of food had been stolen.  I'd only been keeping my eye on Joey, since he's my smallest, and, as he unceremoniously pushed the goats out of the way, I congratulated myself on having some self-sufficient kids.  Until I noticed Alex, weeping and screaming in the corner of the cage, with three goats pushing at him, one with his hooves on Alex's chest, trying to get at his food.  Yikes!!


Poor Alex told me, decidedly, "I do NOT like goats! They don't deserve any more of my food.  I'm only feeding deer from now on."  And that was that, for Alex and the goats. But he adored the deer, and he made friends with every one of them.

And my Cinder-Ella, she floated around the park, smiling beatifically, singing softly to the animals: "Do, a deer, a female deer..."

If it hadn't been for the distraction of the animals and scattered playgrounds along the side of the trail and a break for lunch, the hike would have been impossible for the kids.  I'm not sure how far it was, but it was well over a mile, with a lot of hills.  But, as it was, the kids held up really well, and Joey walked the entire way.

The trail-side playgrounds were all animal-
themed.  This one had something to do
with the excellent balance of mountain
goats, I think.

At the end of the trail, we found a large playground, set into the side of the hill. There was a watchtower and nets to get to the top of the hill, and a long, slippery slide going down.  There were also several coin-operated rides that the kids loved.

They were refreshed enough after their play time that I decided to take them on the next little loop of the park, home to fish and waterfowl.  We bought special food for them, too, formulated so that it would float on the water surface.

Ella changed her tune to "Feed the Birds." Alex preferred the fish and threw his share of the food in handfuls, laughing at their frenzied gulps.  It was as much fun as I used to have feeding french fries to the bass in Geauga Lake. (Again, thanks, Mom!) Joey, who was getting tired, found this section very frustrating.  He desperately wanted the ducks to eat out of his hand and frustratedly scolded them when they wouldn't.

COME HERE DUCK!

So no one was surprised when he fell asleep in his new, improved stroller, on the way to the final section of the park, home to the wolves and bears.  I read that the park used to have food to throw to the bears as well.  But I didn't see any food for sale, and the bears seemed a little busy, anyway.

That was okay, because Ella and Alex were more than amused by the playgrounds on this trail, especially thee splash area.  Hot and tired, they were really resistant to seeing the final trail in the park. But, as I've already mentioned, their mother is a crazy person, so they were just barely enduring the walk....until we got here: lickety-split, they changed their clothes and ran in, and Alex eventually sat down in the water, going on and on about how good his wet clothes felt.  I'm glad, because the alternatives were pretty sweaty and dusty at that point.

We rewarded ourselves with ice cream on the way out of the park, and then were delighted to find that the entire quarter of a mile walk back to the train station was freshly marked for us with footprints.  I really think the rest of the country should provide this for me, as well.  It would save me a lot of time, frustration, and also quite a lot of my data allowance on my cell phone plan.  Hear that, Switzerland? See what you can do.

So our trip home was smooth until we reached the Zürich Hauptbahnh.  Just as I was struggling to lift the stroller off, Joey shot me a cheeky grin and took off down the aisle into the next car of the train. Penned by the stroller, I just couldn't reach him. But Ella took off running, and she carried her kicking, screaming, frustrated little brother off the train. Hero of the day!

The kids disappeared when we got home, until Alex showed up with this little guy: a stick man, just for me.  I love it, especially since it looks exactly like every stick man that Alex has ever drawn, complete with the little slash of hair across the top of his head and the horizontal legs and arms.  Priceless.