The Past: They say that one can’t or shouldn’t go back…

First of all, who are these famous “they”? And why would we bother to believe anything they say?  Sometimes a return to the past can be not only wonderful but salutary.

But before I get into the more philosophical aspects of that title, there are the more mundane. Although 99% of the time I am ever so grateful for the freeway bypass of the city of Thonon in France, there is that 1%. This time on my way to the mountains I decided that I really did need to see the beautifully flowered roundabouts and lakefront that were on my path for so many years. Having no appointments, nor timing to be respected, I decided to not take the bypass but to wander. The floral displays were every bit as lovely as I remembered, but I had forgotten the fountains – a deviation well worth the extra minutes.

The roundabout upon entering Thonon

Fountains on the lake front of Thonon

Part of the roundabout leaving Thonon

middle band in Evian

Flower pot in front of City Hall in Evian

That in turn reminds me of many favorite roads, some of which I may never have the pleasure of driving again, but that are there in my memory should I need them.

And so it is with the past: perhaps we can’t return to that exact minute, the exact circumstances, the good, bad, indifferent or wonderful, but we can’t simply ignore that they ever existed either nor that they are part and parcel of what we have become.

I treasure a childhood friendship more today than I did then; I wouldn’t give up those from over 40 years ago, nor those from 30 years ago, nor those more recent. Each new friendship adds a layer to my life – building upon those solid foundations laid by others.

Going down an old path doesn’t mean trying to repeat that past, it simply means seeing something distant again – seeing it in a different way, perhaps indifferently, but just as likely the experience can be even better than the first time.

One road in particular illustrates my thoughts: Highway 1 in California.

I surely first experienced this with my parents as I know we did visit relatives who spent their summers at Hearst Castle, but my memories are vague and I probably found it tiresome at the time.  The next time I drove this would have been with my husband and older son – at least a short bit of it – there too what remains thirty years later – is the sensation I had of wanting to simply let the car float off into the clouds at one of the many turns winding along the Pacific Ocean.  Then there was the time I drove it alone, traveling in between my two sisters – a beautiful road, but simply one joining my family members. More recent visits hold stronger memories:

-       driving it with my now deceased little sister;

-       the trip when we returned from Northern California together with my older son and stopped at many favorite places along the way

-       the trip with a girlfriend from Switzerland where I got lost, but we ended up discovering what became one of my favorite hotels along the route.

-       the trip up with my sister and sister-in-law after the death of the other sister (truly a pilgrimage that trip)

-       the trip with my younger son and his then girlfriend before one of my nephew’s wedding

I have many favorite places from the past to which I would gladly return, but each year I add new ones so who knows how many I will be able to repeat; how many will remain in the past and how many will become a new experience each time.

It is the same with people: we change, they change, but true friends simply add better layers and experiences – the past is with us always, may we incorporate it into our lives in the best manner possible. May the future be enriched by our past, all the while enjoying the present to the fullest.

So I’m off for a hike in some of my favorite mountains.

La Creusaz

Old photo of Dents de Morcles - May 2016

Looking towards the Mont Blanc from La Creusaz

On the way to… or from

From various remarks over the past year or so, I realize that what I see as being totally normal  - to the point that I sometimes no longer even “see” it – is for others extraordinary. Today on my trip to the mountains I decided to consciously drive, to knowingly remark upon the beauty of my surroundings: not that it is all beautiful or even all interesting.

The drive is a very leisurely 2 hours from door to door, but today I stopped, took pictures, walked around, try to imagine seeing it all for the first time. It wasn’t a superb day, but also at least wasn’t raining either: a normal day in short.

Along this road (through France for about half of it), there are old wooden chalets, manor houses and small castles even, together with the 50s ugly and the box modern. Scenery is much more entertaining as I pass through fields of hay, corn, some with horses, some with cows then drive along the lake front for some 20 miles: small harbors, new parks, villages of all sizes (and interest). 

School & City hall Sciez

Fish fountain in Publier/Amphion

Evian is along this route and so scenes include the widest point of Lake Leman, the Olympic sized pool with a diving board into the lake that is higher than I ever want to stand on, the Casino, an old bell tower, the spa and the new Hilton (not on this particular road through Evian is the golf course and several very luxurious hotels).

They keep adding to their art work of old wood

The church tower behind an apartment building

There are parts, which are fairly wild, others entirely sleepy-little-village-in-the-sun and yet others new modern bungalows. There are the hidden beaches, the off-the-track churches (every time I drive through one small village I think someday I have to go see the Jean-Jacques Rousseau church – some almost 40 years later, still haven’t).

Fisherman off the "Petite Rive"

New lakefront park in Petite Rive

There is a difference in the feel – and even in the roads – in between France and Switzerland – only the trees, flowers and lake remain the same.

Looking across towards Montreux from St. Gingolph

At the end of the lake a sharp right turn brings me through a transitional valley with the French alps invisible behind the lower pre-alps on the right and the higher peaks of places such as Leysin, Les Diablerets and Villars in Switzerland to the left.  Here also there are winds so usually see hang gliders, real (airplane) gliders (there is a small airport), but today there were also a couple of military jets doing maneuvers. Plenty of water inland as well as I crossed the Rhone twice.

The vineyards at "Evouettes"

Left side mirror

Right side mirror

I had debated stopping off at the spa: Lavey-les-Bains, but in the end just wandered on to Martigny and went to the Giannada Museum instead to see the Renoir exhibition. From there I came across the newly renovated protestant temple where all the windows were changed into stained glass windows by a renowned Swiss artist: Hans Erni – the last of the windows he did at 105! He must be doing something right.

Up to my mountain abode and a short walk to see what’s new – just the setting sun bathing the mountaintop. I could actually see the Matterhorn from the farthest point, but my camera’s batteries decided that they had done enough for the day and quit on me: some memories are meant to just be mental.

End of the day