Category: Switzerland

I’m not sure that many people would be excited to see the three country point where Germany, Switzerland and France meet. But, as my friend Liam often tells me, I’m not most people.

It’s a bit of a trek there from Basel, about a 40 minute walk, but it’s pleasant enough walking along the Rhine.

Standing look out, that’s France on the left, Germany on the right and I’m standing in Switzerland. Actually, that is a slight limitation with the monument, it’s actually entirely in Switzerland as the meeting point of the three countries is in the middle of the river.

The monument which was erected here in 1957, with the three wings of the rocket looking thing representing each country. When it was constructed, Europe was very different and I’m not sure many would have imagined that the borders would have come down between these three countries. Incidentally, it looks relatively lightweight but it weighs 8 tonnes and had to be hoisted into place by crane. Apparently, a Hungarian mathematician, Istvan Csontos, who had fled to Switzerland, was involved in painstakingly calculating the complex curves of the monument.

From another angle.

The monument from another perspective, it’s visible in the centre-left of the photo with Germany on the left, the monument in Switzerland and France on the right. I’m overly excited by stuff like this…..

This is perhaps the major landmark in Basel, the medieval Minster, located on Münsterhügel (or Cathedral Hill). The first religious building on the site was probably constructed here in around the ninth century, but it was expanded and rebuilt a few times until and a grand new structure was completed in something like the 1220s. The cathedral sort of, well, fell down in the 1356 earthquake, but they built back better and stronger. The first phase of reconstruction finished in 1363 and by all accounts, it was once again a grand Minister.

In the fifteenth century, the rebuilt Minster became the backdrop for a major event in European church history, the Council of Basel. Convened initially by Pope Martin V in 1431 (who promptly died shortly thereafter), the Council aimed to address church reform (which seems rather aspirational to me) and resolve the Hussite Wars. Held within the Minster’s walls, the Council became a focal point for the Conciliar Movement, which asserted the authority of church councils over that of the Pope. This whole arrangement placed Basel and its Minster at the epicenter of ecclesiastical power struggles, attracting dignitaries and theologians from across Christendom in the debate between whether the Pope was all powerful or not. What happened, like after most things created to end disputes, was that there was a huge schism and decades of arguments.

But, there were huge changes to come, as the Reformation hit Basel with some force in 1529. The Minister found its statues smashed by the local populace following a surge in religious fervour, and realistically a load of alcohol, with altarpieces destroyed and substantial damage to the building and indeed other churches in the city. In many cities, the organ was smashed up as part of this revolution, but the populace quite liked the music that came out of Basel Minister, so they kept it. What it meant was that the Catholic church lost their Minster, but the Protestants gained one. The two towers are called Georgsturm and Martinsturm, the former dates to 1430 and is 67.3 metres high, whilst the latter was finished in 1500 and is 65.5 metres in height.

This bit of action on the front of the Minister is St. George slaying a dragon and the sculpture is thought to date to around 1450. Although, and not being critical, it looks like a baby dragon that isn’t very ferocious, but the Swiss have always been a peace loving nation and perhaps this is the most that they could muster.

The north aisle in the Minister.

The nave, with the post-earthquake Gothic ribbed vaults.

Some choir stalls which seemed to have some age to them.

The tomb of Thüring von Ramstein who died in 1307 and he was the Dompropst, or ‘Provost of the Cathedral Chapter’, a senior ecclesiastical official just below the Bishop.

The St. Vincent Panel (Vincentiustafel) located in the north aisle. The relief depicts the ‘Martyrdom of St. Vincent’ (Martyrium des HL. Vincenz) of Saragossa, a deacon who was martyred around 304 AD in Valencia in Spain, during the persecutions under the Roman Emperor Diocletian. This sculpture is important as it was created in around 1100 and was installed in the cathedral which partly fell down in the earthquake, so it’s one of the oldest artworks still in the building.

Looking towards the choir and apse, it’s a grand affair.

A stained glass rose window in the south transept with the stone tracery depicting the Star of David.

Looking back down the nave and the stone pulpit, dating to 1486 and designed by Hans von Nussdorf, is visible.

Looking up to the impressive mid-nineteenth century stained glass above the apse.

Stained glass dating from the nineteenth century,

Look into the crypt from above.

The font is carved from sandstone and dates from around the early sixteenth century. There’s a grander font in the crypt, which isn’t accessible at the moment, but this is the one now used for baptisms and it’s octagonal and highly decorated.

A side door on the West Facade and there used to be a statue of the Virgin Mary here, but that went during the Reformation. The reddish sandstone used on the exterior is mainly sourced from quarries in the nearby Wiesental and Degerfelden regions across the Rhine in what is now Germany.

It’s not a very clear image, but the roof has a rather lovely decorative pattern.

It’s certainly worth visiting and there’s no admission charge, although it was a shame that the crypt was shut for the winter months and slightly odd that there was no history anywhere about the building.

The Elisabethenkirche, known in its contemporary function as the Offene Kirche Elisabethen (Open Church of St. Elisabeth), was constructed in the mid-nineteenth century as the first Protestant church to be built in the city since the 1529 Reformation. Faced with substantial growth in the city, a decision was made in the 1850s to construct this church. The impetus and financial backing for the Elisabethenkirche came from Christoph Merian (1800-1858) and his wife Margarethe Burckhardt-Merian (1806-1886). Christoph Merian was a significant figure in Basel as he was a wealthy banker, an accomplished agronomist and one of Switzerland’s largest landowners, having received the extensive Brüglingen estate as a wedding gift. Unfortunately, he promptly died before seeing the church complete, but at least wife saw the finished building.

A competition for the design took place in 1855 and it was won by Ferdinand Stadler, with construction of the church starting in the following year. It was built in the Neo-Gothic style and stands 72 metres in height, one of the tallest buildings in the city.

The pulpit is grand and looks rather splendid.

The side aisle. There were plans in 1968 to demolish the building as the congregation size had fallen, but, fortunately, it was saved.

Since 1994, the church has been classed as an “Open Church” which is welcoming to anyone and the plan is that they are “diverse spiritual, cultural, and social needs of contemporary urban dwellers, explicitly welcoming people irrespective of their background, origin, race, religion,or sexual orientation.”

The Chancel.

Looking back along the nave.

The decorative ceiling. It’s fortunate that the building is still standing and it gives an impression of being older than it actually is. There are some who clearly aren’t impressed with the church’s new role in society, with someone complaining alongside their one star review that they had a LGBT banner on display, but the owner responded with “and what wrong with this, other than your narrow mind?” which is entirely the right reply as far as I’m concerned. Another person posted that “It is a cafe, and the building is used for promotion of activist causes.”

The reply was:

“You are so wrong and only show by this review how yesterday-ish you are! We are and allways will be: a place to worship and celebrate. But we have to earn our own money – so we rent the church out, when we don’t need it to pray or celebrate. It’s unfair by you to rate with 1 point, what you can’t tell or judge. And obviously you can’t! Hopefully won’t be judged so harsh like you judge.”

I’m going now to leave them a five star review. There’s an irony here that the situation is now perhaps more tolerant, welcoming and diverse than it was when it was a church. That’s perhaps a little controversial for my little blog, but there we go.

St Johanns Tor (St. John’s Gate) is one of three remaining gates into Basel, once attached to the city walls although they were nearly entirely pulled down in 1859. Back in the late fourteenth century, matters were quite different as there were seven major gates, forty towers and a heap of battlements to keep the riff raff out. It’s located relatively near to the River Rhine and it’s something of a medieval survivor. As some background, 18 October 1356 was quite a bad day for Basel as it was hit by one of the worst earthquakes to have taken place in central Europe. It’s not a surprise that chunks of the city promptly fell down. That did though give the city authorities a chance to rebuild and expand their defences.

It’s a chunky door and is some centuries old. There was once a portcullis arrangement here, but they replaced it with a system where vertical oak beams could be lifted individually.

After it was decided not to demolish the gate, it was restored in 1874 and then again between 1983 and 1985. During the 1980s renovation, it was decided to reverse the new roof added in 1874 and return to something more as the building would have looked like in the medieval period. There are some sculptures on the exterior of the building, but they’re replicas from the early twentieth century and the originals are in the Historical Museum of Basel.

Looking towards France. The rooms in the gate are now used by Basel’s cantonal police force (Kantonspolizei Basel-Stadt) so it continues a tradition of civil function, although it means that the structure isn’t open to the public.

There are some steps to get to the level above and it’s possible to walk down to the Rhine from here.

My Wizz Air flight from Warsaw was uneventful, I had been given a window seat (always random as I refuse to pay extra) and although we set off late, it was a dramatic delay. During the flight, my fellow passengers were exhibiting only baseline levels of annoying behaviour, nobody tried to initiate a singalong, perform interpretive dance in the aisle or applaud when we landed, so frankly, a resounding success.

But, back to the unique nature of this airport, which is properly known as EuroAirport Basel-Mulhouse-Freiburg as it’s serving the three countries of France, Germany and Switzerland. I was aware that there were two exits at the airport, both visible in the above photo, and Bill mentioned on Facebook to make sure that I got the right one. His comments were sensible, but it was unclear to me what I was actually supposed to do here and why. I was staying in France and I didn’t need to enter Switzerland at all, so I went for the French option. This proved not to be quite the correct choice.

I got outside and realised I needed to walk down here, but there’s a problem as someone has taken part in some ‘bring your own fence to work day’ arrangement. Switzerland is in Schengen, so I hadn’t quite expected this level of fencing everywhere. I did wonder perhaps the Swiss just wanted to keep their side tidy, but that seemed a slightly stereotypical thought….

I realised from Google maps that there was another pedestrian walkway so I left the French side of the airport to discover that it was a gated footpath for those who had a code. I considered this whole arrangement as sub-optimal.

So, after navigating the ‘Great Fence of EuroAirport’ outside, I was genuinely bracing myself for some sort of Herculean faff to get back to the side I actually needed, or some sort of passport check. The only alternative seemed to be hailing a taxi which would have been an act of such wild extravagance my thrifty soul practically recoiled at the thought, so that wasn’t happening. However, it it was just like meandering through a shopping centre, there was no security, customs or border controls. If I had wanted, I would have had time to buy a Toblerone and everything.

And that little stroll back through the airport meant that I was back on track and heading towards my hotel in France.

It’s hard to read here, but it says “open borders” and I wish they were at this airport. It was then a three mile walk and it was pleasing that they had street-lights all the way along the path, but less pleasing that they hadn’t switched them on. The road was relatively busy and my eye-sight adjusted, so it was a fast walk and I then realised that this path was also heavily secured, I think a legacy of just over ten years ago when Switzerland weren’t in Schengen. Which meant that I had to walk into Switzerland which isn’t what I had intended.

There’s the Swiss border. I was in Switzerland for around five minutes and only because there was no way to access all the paths in France. And this is a legacy of the history of this airport, which was built in France as Basel didn’t have space, a process all overseen by a 1949 international treaty. So, because of this, the pre-Schengen path was something of a secure corridor straight into Switzerland, logical as I had left the Switzerland side of the airport.

Still on the Swiss side, there’s the former border control post, now just used as a customs post.

There was no-one there and people could walk freely through. Luckily the hotel was literally a one minute walk away from here and I was pleased to get there after yet another slightly unexpected journey. I had started to consider myself as an expert in the Swiss and French border, although that was until the next day, but I’ll save that riveting story….