It is a well-known fact that I love to
travel and that I do so rather frequently. Many of the trips involve actually
leaving the country (probably about 80% of the time) and most are also long
distance visiting family in the USA and in Germany.
The only “short” trips are those to the
flat that I rent during the summer months as that is roughly two hours
depending upon how many times I stop or take side-trips on the way. The
shortest trips otherwise are the 3-hour train rides to Paris, or the 7 hour
ones to Southern France/Northern Germany.
When my younger son decided that he would
like to hold a party at home (he is currently living here – another story
entirely) I said, no problem, I’ll go stay in a hotel for the night. Well that
became, oh yeah, maybe I should go somewhere that I haven’t seen and, for the
comfort, also take the train.
Up to Leysin it was.
One of many such chalets |
And what a fun weekend it turned out to be.
Last minute reservation at the Mercure hotel (not going to rave about it – it
was adequate) then joined a friend who was dining with other friends Friday
night and Saturday night. First though
the tour to a local restaurant and mini alpine museum where they make the cheese
in the old-fashioned way – in a large caldron – three times a week for the
evening fondues. Then it was off to an Italian restaurant: five adults and one
child. Three were of Italian origin, one of those was married to a girl from
Cameroon and of course me. All were polyglots.
Cheese Restaurant in Leysin, Switzerland |
Old-fashioned way of making cheese |
Saturday my coffee buddy and I went off to
Bulle (nearest larger city to the castle of Gruyère always a hit with the
tourists) to attend the indoor flea market. I was at the tail end of a weird
flu episode so after a couple of hours needed to sit and went and found the
cloakroom and a bench: these indoor events rarely have seating and I didn’t
think it polite to simply sit down on someone’s stall – or antique chairs.
Entertained myself reading a brochure that some kids were peddling then the
lady who’s stall was just outside the cloakroom asked if I would watch her
stand for her whilst she went to the bathroom. Not every visitor finds them self
a temporary saleswoman: fun.
Traveling there we took the back roads and
mountain passes – something that as a family we had never done. Started snowing
on the way back so ever so “typically Swiss” and we stopped for coffee in an
authentic mountain “bistro”.
That night we continued the oh-so-international theme when we joined the cousin, his companion and another woman in the latter’s chalet for sushi! D’s chalet was a most wonderful blend of traditional Swiss and zen Japanese: she trained as an artist, in particular ceramics, and taught at Scripp’s in L.A. as well as at the University of Bern before turning to teaching in order “to make a living”. All the dishes used were her own works and I’d love to talk her into coming out of retirement as an artist. The other woman’s history was just as fascinating. Main language of the evening: Italian with a smattering of French as well as German between three of us when S. discovered that I spoke it. The cousin was more than entertaining and the word “mass” will forever make me laugh as at one point whilst discussing how the artist had put one leg on solid ground and the other on not-so-solid thus falling forward he described it as her “mass” made her topple meaning of course mass and velocity (he was an engineer) as opposed to weight (she was top heavy), but he had a hard time back peddling out of that one.
That night we continued the oh-so-international theme when we joined the cousin, his companion and another woman in the latter’s chalet for sushi! D’s chalet was a most wonderful blend of traditional Swiss and zen Japanese: she trained as an artist, in particular ceramics, and taught at Scripp’s in L.A. as well as at the University of Bern before turning to teaching in order “to make a living”. All the dishes used were her own works and I’d love to talk her into coming out of retirement as an artist. The other woman’s history was just as fascinating. Main language of the evening: Italian with a smattering of French as well as German between three of us when S. discovered that I spoke it. The cousin was more than entertaining and the word “mass” will forever make me laugh as at one point whilst discussing how the artist had put one leg on solid ground and the other on not-so-solid thus falling forward he described it as her “mass” made her topple meaning of course mass and velocity (he was an engineer) as opposed to weight (she was top heavy), but he had a hard time back peddling out of that one.
Again late to bed, but no matter as Sunday
there were no plans. Late breakfast followed by simply relaxing, partially in
the sun, after touring the village and admiring how the snow, which had ever so
conveniently fallen during the night, covered the slush, mud and rocks that had
been apparent upon my arrival.
Fresh snow powdering on the trees |
Must have been a strong wind at some point |
Christmas lights and snow make the branches festive |
Huge rocky mountains |
La Tour d'Ai |
It was a true break (tried checking e-mails
the first night as the hotel supposedly had wi-fi, but although I could go
online for the news, etc. couldn’t seem to get passed the barriers for e-mails
etc. so decided that a computer-free weekend was perhaps a good thing) and returning
home somewhat of a let-down, but never mind I have another adventure with my
housemate coming up mid-February.
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