Paragliding over the Hohematte: what a tandem flight is really like

I had booked the flight three days earlier and then spent three days hoping it would get cancelled.

Booking and the 24 hours before

Every tandem paragliding outfit in Interlaken works the same way: you book online or walk into an office on the Hoheweg, pay a deposit, and then wait for a phone call or a text the morning of the flight telling you whether conditions are good enough. Wind direction matters more than sunshine — a clear blue sky with the wrong wind grounds every pilot in town, while a slightly grey day with calm air is perfect. My flight was rescheduled once, from a Tuesday to a Thursday, because of afternoon gusts coming down the valley from Grindelwald. Nobody apologised for it and nobody should have; it’s the correct call.

The pickup was a minibus from the office, seven of us squeezed in with two pilots, at 10:40 for an 11:00 slot on Beatenberg, the village on the ridge above Lake Thun that most tandem companies use as a launch point alongside Niederhorn a little higher up. The drive up switchbacks through Beatenberg’s scattered chalets takes about 20 minutes from the centre of Interlaken.

The wait at the top

This is the part nobody mentions. You do not arrive, harness up and jump off a cliff. You arrive and you wait. Pilots were checking a wind sock and an app on their phones, talking to each other in Bernese dialect I couldn’t follow, occasionally pointing at a specific patch of sky. Two people ahead of me flew; one pair was told to wait another 20 minutes because a gust had come through. I stood on cut grass in a harness that makes walking faintly ridiculous, watching parasails already up circling over the valley toward Interlaken and the flat green rectangle of the Hohematte far below, looking impossibly small.

My pilot, Res, clipped me into the harness, checked the carabiners twice, and gave me the entire briefing in about 90 seconds: run when I say run, don’t stop running even when your feet leave the ground, sit back into the seat once we’re up, feet up, don’t grab the steering toggles. That was it. No paperwork beyond a waiver signed at the office the day before.

The launch: five seconds that don’t feel real

The wing was laid out behind us on the slope, lines fanned out, Res clipped in behind and slightly above me. He said “running” and I started walking, then jogging, downhill on a grass slope that fell away faster than it looked, and the wing filled with a loud crack of fabric I felt more than heard. Three, four, five strides and the ground under my feet simply stopped being there. Not a jump, not a drop — the slope kept sloping away and I kept running on air for a stride or two before Res said “feet up” and I realised we were flying and my legs were still cycling uselessly.

The first five seconds are the most physical part of the entire flight and also the part every video of paragliding fails to convey, because the camera is usually mounted looking forward and slightly down, and it smooths out what is actually a short, undignified scramble followed by a sudden and total change of state. One moment you are a person running downhill, the next you are dangling in a nylon seat 50 metres above a hillside with your knees still slightly bent from the run.

Fifteen minutes over the Bodeli

Once trimmed out and climbing on a thermal off the ridge, the flight itself is quiet — quieter than I expected, just wind noise and the occasional creak of the risers. Res pointed things out without much ceremony: the twin lakes either side of the Bodeli, Lake Thun’s blue-grey water to the left and Lake Brienz’s turquoise to the right, the distinction between them obvious from up here in a way it isn’t at ground level.

He banked hard right over Unterseen, and my stomach did the thing stomachs do on a fairground ride, then levelled out and let me look for landmarks — the Hoheweg’s row of grand hotels, the funicular line running up to Harder Kulm, the pale ribbon of the Aare between the lakes.

We spent most of the 18 minutes losing height gradually in wide circles rather than diving straight for the landing field, which is standard technique to burn altitude safely rather than a scenic choice, though it has the same effect either way. Res asked once if I wanted a couple of tighter turns; I said yes, regretted it slightly for about four seconds, and would do it again.

Landing on the Hohematte

The approach to the Hohematte is the one moment where you actually see the ground rushing up in a way that matches what paragliding looks like in your head — a shallow final glide, tourists on the grass below getting visibly larger, then Res saying “legs out, ready to run” and a landing that was really just two or three walking steps absorbing the last of the speed. It was less dramatic than the launch. My feet touched grass and thirty seconds later a ground crew member was unclipping my harness while another pilot was already lining up the next landing behind us.

What the video doesn’t show

The GoPro footage I bought afterwards for an extra CHF 40 is genuinely good — steady, well-framed, set to music that makes the whole thing look smoother and calmer than it felt. What it can’t show is the 40 minutes of standing around at the top in a harness, unsure if the flight is happening; the specific vertigo of your legs still trying to run after the ground has gone; or the fact that your ears do something strange on the descent that no amount of swallowing quite fixes. It also doesn’t show the price tag: CHF 190 for the flight plus CHF 40 for footage, cash or card at the office, no negotiation.

Would I do it again from a different site — the Schilthorn, say, with the Eiger, Mönch and Jungfrau at eye level instead of below you — yes, and that’s the version I’d budget for on a second trip. For a first flight, the Hohematte landing and the two-lake view are hard to beat for CHF 190.

Frequently asked questions about paragliding over the Hohematte

How much does tandem paragliding in Interlaken cost?

Standard tandem flights from Beatenberg or Niederhorn to the Hohematte cost roughly CHF 170–220 depending on the operator and season. Photo and video packages add CHF 30–50, and flights from higher, more scenic launch points such as the Schilthorn cost more, often CHF 250 or above.

Where do tandem flights over Interlaken take off and land?

Most tandem operators launch from Beatenberg or Niederhorn, on the ridge above Lake Thun, and land on the Hohematte, the open meadow in the centre of Interlaken. Some companies also offer launches from Grindelwald First or the Schilthorn for a higher, longer flight over glacier scenery instead of the two lakes.

Is there a weight or age limit for tandem paragliding?

Most operators accept passengers roughly between 35 kg and 120 kg; heavier passengers may need to book in advance so the company can assign a larger wing. Children are usually accepted from around age 4–6 with a parent’s consent, and there’s no strict upper age limit as long as you can manage a short run on the launch slope.

What should I wear for a paragliding flight in Interlaken?

Closed, sturdy shoes are compulsory for the run at launch and landing — trainers or hiking boots, not sandals. Bring a layer for the top of the ridge, which is noticeably cooler and windier than Interlaken town, even in summer. Sunglasses help, and loose trousers are more comfortable in the harness than jeans.

Can I fly if I’m scared of heights?

Most pilots say fear of heights affects people less than expected once airborne, because there’s no edge to look over and no sense of falling — the sensation is closer to floating than climbing. The launch run is the part people find most disorientating rather than the height itself. Tell your pilot beforehand; they can fly a gentler, more direct route with fewer turns.

What happens if the weather is bad on the day?

Flights are rescheduled or refunded if wind, cloud base or visibility are unsafe; pilots make that call on the morning of the flight, sometimes with only a few hours’ notice. Book a slot early in your stay rather than on your last day, so there’s room to shift to a different day if needed. See Interlaken in bad weather for what else to do if a flight gets bumped.

Do I get photos or video from the flight?

Most operators offer a GoPro package for CHF 30–50, either handheld by the pilot or mounted on a pole, delivered by download link within a day or two. It’s optional and worth deciding on before you launch, since it can’t be added retroactively once you’re airborne.

Is travel insurance required for paragliding in Interlaken?

Operators don’t check for insurance before a flight, but the activity isn’t automatically covered by every standard travel policy, so it’s worth confirming your policy covers tandem paragliding specifically. Swiss mountain rescue (REGA, 1414) covers helicopter evacuation, but medical costs from an accident are a separate matter.

Between flights, I filled the rest of that week with an e-bike route along Lake Brienz to Iseltwald and the Giessbach falls, a lower-key way to see the same lake from ground level, and a small-group day trip up to the Jungfraujoch for the glacier view the paragliding flight doesn’t reach. If e-bikes are more your speed than free-falling off a ridge, a half-day e-bike tour past Interlaken’s lakes and castle ruins covers similar ground at a much calmer pace.

For planning the rest of a trip around one flight, see how many days in Interlaken makes sense for a longer stay, what paragliding in Interlaken costs across different operators and launch sites, and the best viewpoints around Interlaken if you’d rather look at the view from solid ground.

For the cost of a longer stay, Interlaken travel costs breaks down a typical daily budget, and common mistakes first-time visitors make covers a few other bookings worth getting right early. The colour contrast between the two lakes I saw from the air is explained properly in why Lake Brienz is that colour.