Day 7 / July 21, 2026: Schaffhauser-Zürcherweg (Rapperswil SG – Einsiedeln SZ)

Life is!

“Wohhhhow, eyes wide open!” I felt magnificent and strong upon waking up today! There were no snores last night. No wonder, my roommates in the pilgrimage accommodation seemed to be athletes across the board. “When I am away for weeks someday, I'll be one of them!” I giggle to myself. A still absurd notion, considering how unathletic I really am! But what isn’t could still become. Today I’m particularly looking forward to the day. Although the kilometers from yesterday still ache in my bones, my heat-induced headache is gone. In wise foresight, I had already packed and prepared everything the night before so that I could quietly sneak out of the room at 6:00 AM and finish getting ready in the common room. There’s really nothing worse than rustling neighbors when you want to sleep, and I was the first one ready to go today.

After the obligatory coffee, I set off at 7:00 AM on “ufd Löitsch.” A few nuts were necessary. Today’s journey would be demanding, I heard everywhere, so supplies were essential. I was particularly excited about the 841-meter-long wooden footbridge from Rapperswil (SG) to Hurden (SZ). It was good I left early, as the thermometer was already showing 23 degrees at 7:00 AM, and the first kilometers were completely devoid of shade. Passing the chapel Heilig Hüsli, I enjoyed the path on Switzerland’s longest wooden bridge. I was even up before the swans, I was happy to note. Their heads were still tucked into their own feathers.

Before Pfäffikon (SZ), it got rather dull. It felt like forever trudging along the railway tracks in the sweltering heat, and after the train station, it was laborious and strenuous going “upwards.” God, it was hot! Pride would not allow me to skip the many steep steps at the town exit by bus. Finally arriving at the top, I sat next to a female biker who was equally exhausted on a bench at the viewpoint “Luegeten” in the shade, and we started chatting and laughing when we found a love-struck letter under the bench that spoke of unrequited love and longing. At least the letter was not addressed to us.

Before me lay the most strenuous part of the day. The steep ascent continued steadily uphill over meadows and forest paths to the Etzel Pass at 947 m above sea level, the highest point of the hike. It indeed required a certain level of fitness, but it was much easier for me to scramble up in the shaded forest. It slowly dawned on me that my supposedly poor fitness wasn’t the issue, as it seemed to be just fine. At the top of the Etzel Pass, the historic mountain inn and the St. Meinrad chapel invited me to take a break. There, I first met the woman to whom I would silently encounter multiple times on my journey over the next two days. The first real pilgrim! After the pass summit, we headed down leisurely over the historic Tüfelsbrugg and the birthplace of Paracelsus. Soon the panorama of the high valley of Einsiedeln opened up. From then on, the hike was pure enjoyment. What a view, what a panorama! I was so looking forward to seeing the Einsiedeln Monastery again. The last time I was here was with the Catholic school over 35 years ago, and I just love such beautiful, historically significant buildings.

And then suddenly, at 2:00 PM, I found myself in front of it. After the tranquility on the Camino, entering this vast paved square felt so majestic and solemn! In the center of the square stands the prominent Baroque pilgrim fountain from 1747 with a gilded statue of the Virgin Mary. It is tradition for every arriving pilgrim to take a sip of water from all 14 spouts of the fountain. Each faucet represents a different sanctifying effect and special protection. I absolutely adore such things, but since I was the only pilgrim for miles around, it felt a bit odd to circle the fountain and absorb the various healings and protections. No matter, I smiled to myself and felt as if I were reborn. At the monastery gate, I felt super important once again when I was granted entrance to the monastery. I was the only pilgrim today and had my pick of beds in the sparse 8-bed dormitory. It was a strange feeling indeed, being among the wandering monks and the deserted monastery corridors.

At 4:30 PM, the solemn Vespers began in the monastery church with the world-famous singing of the “Salve Regina.” I absolutely wanted to experience this. And because I wanted to soak up all the historic things around me, I drifted through the monastery, church, and the entire grounds for quite some time beforehand. The monastery church fascinated me immensely. Despite hundreds of visitors, it was as silent as a mouse in the holy building. You could hear a pin drop. This aura in the building… indescribable! After I had seen everything, I simply sat on a bench for a long while, soaking in the atmosphere. Every smallest detail in this church and also in the monastery has a deeper meaning. I was happy and satisfied and completely at peace.

Suddenly I discovered a small altar. There you could write small notes and put them in. The monks would read the notes and pray for the respective concerns. “How beautiful!” I thought, and immediately got to writing. I wrote for my children and a little for myself. That we finally get a grip on an incurable, chronic illness and the accompanying existential fears, that we remain optimistic and courageous, that everyone can lead a happy life and difficulties stay away or are manageable, etc. I threw the note, like everyone else, contentedly into the box, turned around, and wanted to take a seat again, when suddenly it happened!

Tears unexpectedly burst forth from me like a flood. (Remember? I almost never cry, let alone in public!). I sat down in the bench and closed my eyes, but could not hold back the tears. Strangely, it was okay for me, and I felt as if I were alone in this vast church. Our family has carried so much over generations. It was as if the entire weight of all, especially my own, broke through me with overwhelming force. I remembered the saying: “Eventually, it hits everyone; every pilgrim cries once on their pilgrimage!” So it seemed, for me at least, that Day 7 was the time.

Shortly thereafter, the monks began singing Gregorian chants. A magical moment! The monastery has a tradition of over 1000 years of Gregorian chant. Throughout the entire Vespers, the tears continued to flow unabated. Afterward, the monks formed for the solemn procession and walked together through the center aisle, forming a circle around the Chapel of Grace, where they sang the four-part Salve Regina facing the Black Madonna. I too sat before the Black Madonna and listened to the special sounds. My tears were replaced by a deep satisfaction. And the sun's radiance around the Madonna symbolized a new beginning and hope for me at just the right moment. A deep inner security and contentment gripped me, and I mentally and physically felt completely drained as I floated back to my room after these events. I was in a completely value-free state of being. Life is!

Actually, I was looking forward to a glass of monastery wine at dinner. But alas, they of course didn't have any. There was house-made spring water. Quite nice too. At dinner in the communal room (where there were also day guests), I asked a monk if one could receive a pilgrim blessing in the monastery. The monk was not at all like how I pictured a monk to be. He was rather brusque, but he offered to meet me later at the Sigismund altar in the monastery church. I had no idea which was the Sigismund altar, but apparently I ended up in the right place when he approached me. I wanted to appear funny when I naively said, “You have to excuse me, I would have liked to have dressed a bit nicer for this solemn occasion, but unfortunately, I only have the clothes I’m wearing!” Oops! Alarm! Faux pas! He didn't find it amusing at all and didn’t change his expression. Later I learned it might also have been taken as a flirtation. I had to internally grin; the monk was about 90 years old, but well, it’s all good!

He switched to the other side of the barrier, and I had to bring my face very close to the nearby fence. He confirmed once again that I was a pilgrim and where I wanted to go. Then he personally spoke a very beautiful blessing just for me. The most important elements of the blessing included the travel blessing, the inner blessing, and the homecoming. Suddenly he stopped abruptly and explained: “Wait, now there’s some water!” He turned around, grabbed his aspergillum, dipped it generously and multiple times into the holy water, and splashed me through the barrier multiple times. People looked on amused and didn’t understand a word. I had to internally laugh as well. Well, if that doesn't help! Maybe I particularly needed the blessing, hence the soaking!? Or perhaps he was getting back at me for my dumb remark? In any case, the ceremony was thus solemnly concluded, and I felt as if I had just come from a Russian Banja. The monk bid a short farewell and disappeared into the void in the blink of an eye.

Soaked to the bone, I shuffled through the monastery church outside and treated myself to a glass of monastery wine in the “Gartenbeiz” next door, confused and dripping wet, where I encountered my “pilgrim buddy” again wordlessly. She probably didn’t want to talk, and I certainly didn’t look like a serious conversation partner at that moment! But that suited me just fine. Besides my physical journey, I had experienced a profoundly spiritual inner journey today, one that is actually almost impossible to describe appropriately due to a lack of words. I went to bed quite early again that night and once again thought with gratitude: Life is!

Insight of the Day:

Life is! Period!

In monasteries, there are no mirrors, but there is an abundance of holy water!

I am not unfit; the heat is to blame!

Distance: 17 km, Elevation gain: 790 m, Elevation loss: 315 m