One of the reasons…

I love where I live: the seasons.
Spring is a great new beginning, summer is wonderful as long as one can get either
to the mountains or the beach for coolness. Fall is my favorite, but winter needs to also
be winter. 

This past weekend we finally got snow.

Corsier - looking towards the lake Friday night

Details of the above

Sunset in the alps Saturday

Early morning sun on the alps

The cows with extra thick pelts

Peek-a-boo with the alps

Construction in the alps

Only 30 or so years ago the sound of a helicopter in the alps signaled an emergency: someone who had fallen whilst mountain climbing; someone lost in the mountains; and often the outcome was not positive. Similar to my parent’s generation and their relationship to the telephone – if it rang, it bode no good: it took my siblings many years and many calls before my mother was not 100% sure that there was bad news on the other end of the line and today in the alps for the older generation the sound of helicopters still make for disquiet in their hearts.

However, today almost all construction is undertaken via helicopter and I have had the pleasure of following a few deliveries of roofing, of tiles, or pre-fab slabs of concrete.

This year where I rent has been a constant ballet of helicopters as they are undertaking a long-term change in the electrical lines: the old 220 volt ones are going to be replaced by more powerful 380 volt lines and they are also lowering them further down into the deep gorged valley so that they will be not only less exposed to the elements, but also less visible to the tourists and inhabitants of the mountain villages along the way.

However, this time it was a much more prosaic task: they were filling in holes in the road and in particular near the train station in Trétien with asphalt.  The truck with the asphalt was stationed on a parking about a kilometer away and a helicopter transferred a bucket of asphalt to the train station, returning with the empty, waiting for a re-fill and so on. They had it down to a science and although I didn’t count the number of trips I was able to determine that when the helicopter returned to the parking lot for his next load it took under a minute! He would come in nose facing left, turn and have his nose facing back to the right whilst the workers on the ground first unhooked the empty bucket then hooked up the full one – and off he went. This only stopped on the hour when the next lot of trains was expected.

parking lot in the bend before the village

unhooking the empty bucket

hooking up the full bucket

lowering it towards the trains station

hovering whilst the full is unhooked and the empty put back on

repeat: unhook

re-hook

ready

take off

and away it goes whilst the workers re-position the empty to be filled

back to the train station

coming in - nose pointed towards the valley

turning whilst the buckets are swapped

re-positioned for the next delivery: the whole process was about 30 seconds!

It was fun watching and probably a lot more ecological than trying to bring up big trucks then transfer to smaller, then smaller, then buckets. Also much quicker thus probably largely compensating for the price of the helicopter.

Still observing as I walked back up the mountain

In the distance the ballet continues until the next train

Serenity

Is a walk on wooded paths,

Hugging a forest tree,

Climbing a rocky slope,

 

Looking out over the alps:

 

This is how I ground myself.

Lunch in Italy: Bella Italia

Ah the beauty of living in Switzerland – one is never far from a border. Usually it’s my quick trip to France for groceries (10 minutes at the most); sometimes it’s through France to get to my mountain flat (under an hour driving at 60 km/h – not strenuous and the scenery is gorgeous). But yesterday was special!

I was in my mountains and a friend who has a chalet in another mountain village not far proposed that we re-connect (mind you we do cross paths at the village bakery usually at least a couple of mornings a week). So we met on a parking lot just outside Martigny where I left my car and then drove up the side valley towards Italy.

It is still summer (well the season is still summer and the pass is not yet closed due to snow – still a fresh 6°C at the top) so we were able to drive on the mountain roads and didn’t have to take the tunnel. 

mountain hut

one of the air chimneys for the tunnel underneath

Looking back on the road up

morning clouds in the the valleys between peaks

A glorious, sunny-with-clouds, morning.  

At the Grand Saint Bernard pass (and yes that is where the dogs were trained and raised – still present every summer although they also now have a museum and home in Martigny) we stopped to take in the views in both directions as well as for a short visit to the inside chapel, the canon’s dining room etc. Founded by Saint Bernard, the Archdeacon of Aoste, as a way station on the pilgrimage route to Rome to the aid of travelers, the hospice has maintained this spirit of aid to one’s fellows and hospitality for over a thousand years. The buildings are now divided with one side of the road being more for the canons, “oblate” sisters and pilgrims; the other for visitors – both connected by a passageway over the road, which is in the process of being renovated (this is the only portion that hasn't yet been started, elsewhere they have done a great job). Besides the chapel, which far surpasses my idea of a mountain chapel, there is a collection of "treasures" and various other historically important artifacts. The hospice’s history goes back over a 1’000 years, but the pass at 2’500 meters is also a border crossing and the Swiss and the Italian custom’s houses are still present although no longer guarded.

signs along the way - all with Napoleon's hat mark the path that he took over the alps in May of 1800

the corridor in between buildings - not yet renovated

The Italian border across the lake

The Swiss custom's house on the far right. Seen from the Hospice.

 Beautiful doesn’t quite do it justice, but that’s the word I have at my command.

same mountains that were covered in clouds - an hour later

Then it was down the Italian side and on to Aoste for a walk around the ruins: ruins, which I might add are being well renovated so that the tourist can easily learn some history. Here it was 28°C so it was a day of put on the sweater and windbreaker, then take off same, before re-adding them yet again later.

One of the galleries on the Italian side: notice the rock fall on the left, this is why they are needed.

part of the ruins in Aoste

A leisurely stroll: some gelato (ah the Italian gelati) followed by a leisurely lunch (in a restaurant where the decor would have passed for any similar one in lower Germany: one forgets that the baroque style was in many places) and then the reverse trip back up the mountain and over the other side.

On the way home stopped to take in more of the Napoleonic history in particular at Bourg St. Pierre: imagine Napoleon marching 46’000 soldiers up the mountain and on to Marengo – the battle that consolidated his hold on French politics. In this small village the number of transparent plaques describing various houses, types of furnishings etc. makes it a tourist’s dream. The Swiss have done well.

Napoleon brought 46'000 men will him over the alps in 1800!

A last coffee and the day had come to an end: have rarely enjoyed such a beautiful day – love those mountains, love the air, had a knowledgeable guide to explore a history and a region that I had not yet discovered. Every Sunday should be as entertaining.

For my sister - just because I found cows!