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I find tea an excellent excuse to eat cookies. Swiss Christmas cookies are amazing - the white one is my current favorite- it's called chrabeli and according to my coworker is shaped like the
of a rooster. Of all things. The other is something I impulse-purchased at the market this weekend...not quite sure what it's called but the combination of marzipan and gingerbread is, in my stomach's opinion, a total winner.
Happy Weekend!
The elevation changes where we live mean that weather can change drastically from one place to another. On Sunday we drove out of overcast, drenched Lausanne and headed up into the mountains.
All of the rain we've gotten in the past two weeks had fallen as snow in the mountains. It was like driving through a snow globe.
The pines, which fade into the scenery during the bright green summer, are truly magnificent when covered with snow.
The light during our drive was incredible. And as we rounded the turn into Le Pont...
Somewhere, Elton John began tinkling 'Circle of Life' on a piano...perfect Sunday.
So as we learned in our last installment, hiking from Schilthorn down to Mürren was not really a great idea. But after discussing the issue over a delicious starch-filled lunch, we decided to take the telecab down to Brig (the next vantage point). There, we eyed the smoother terrain and thought, 'hey this looks totally more doable.'
So we began our final descent. Kind of looks like the surface of the moon, doesn't it?
Mountains are deceiving. From the top of one, you can see all the way down to the place you are sleeping. Walking seems like a piece of cake.
But that view is full of lies. For close to three hours we meandered our way down. For the first two-thirds of that journey I could have sworn that we were on a treadmill as our destination seemed to remain impossibly far away. On the way we saw people hiking UP. As in started hiking all the way down where we parked our car with the intention of going alll the way up to Schilthorn. Using nothing but their feet. What is this sorcery? We (royal use) have invented telecabs for a reason. I am trying to ignore the fact that among these intrepid explorers were people both much younger and significantly older then us. And moving at a much faster pace. These encounters made me feel extremely lazy and unfit
(she says, as she types lethargically from the couch with a plate of cookies two inches away)
At last we began seeing familiar territory.
This is where I leave out the part about how we could barely walk for the next three days. I thought gravity was kinder on the muscles. I was wrong. I wonder how the upward hikers fared.
(probably better what with being magical elves and whatnot).
All in all, it was a great trip and worth it for the views alone. Someday when I learn to snowboard it will be fun to come back and try the slopes.
Schilthorn: peak of James Bond fame, viewing place of a great section of the Bernese Alps and home to one of those rotating restaurants that makes food taste better because it is being eaten while moving in a circle, slowly. (Clarification: this is not, in fact, a picture of Schilthorn, it's one of the peaks that can be seen from Schilthorn)
The peak was yet another telecab up from our pension (2,970 meters at the summit). I am running out of adjectives to properly describe views of these mountains. Cool and pointy don't seem to be cutting it anymore. Unfathomable comes to mind.
From this vantage point, it is possible to see several prominent peaks: Titlis, Jungfrau, Mönch and Eiger.
We doodled about the observation deck and allowed the mountains to pose with us:
Friends of ours that had recommended Mürren, had also mentioned something about a cool hike down the mountain.
They also mentioned something about it taking 5.5 hours and at one point clinging to a metal chain and hugging the bare rock face to avoid plummeting to their deaths.
We of course remembered none of the details of this conversation.
Did I also mention that I'm too cheap to buy proper hiking boots? And instead choose to wear my treadless, falling-apart tennis shoes while scampering about snowy, icy mountains?
It seemed like an easy enough hike…
it'll probably take us like 30 minutes to reach the bottom
(said my brain).
And on the way down we got to watch telecabs zooming up the mountain! Awesome!
So some hiking in a downward fashion occurred. Some picture taking occurred. Everything seemed good and tranquil and fun.
And then
(pause for dramatic effect)
AND THEN:
All of a sudden, the path was replaced with a straight drop. I think there were some notches that distantly resembled stairs, but the three inches of ice and snow covering them made it impossible to tell for sure. Anthony managed the descent because he is an adult who'd planned ahead and worn proper footwear. I figured I could save 200 francs and override the laws of physics with stubbornness and frugality.
I am an idiot.
What ensued was a ten minute battle of the wills in which I kept trying to inch my way down as my feet could not find one single bit of grip (coincidentally, I finally began to understand coefficient of friction about 7 years too late) and Anthony kept trying to derail my irrationally stubborn behavior by painting grim pictures of my death.
Eventually I had to admit he was right. So we turned around to head back up and all of a sudden it dawned on me how very far away the observation deck seemed.
The thing about hiking is, I really like going down. Going down is fun! It's what gravity wants us to do! Hiking downhill is the natural order of things!
But going up is expending energy that might better be used for napping, or eating or reading books. It creates entropy in the universe and makes puppies cry.
But there was no other option. So I resolved to do it as quickly as possible and began power walking my way to the top.
And a good thing too, because I turned around and saw Anthony coming up behind me and cajoled him into letting me get this shot:
After our ordeal, we decided we needed to eat lunch while rotating slowly and came up with a plan for getting back to our pension which still involved some hiking, but with a much lower risk of fatality.
After two different groups of friends told us about the magical wonderscape that is Mürren, we decided to take a weekend and check it out.
As with many enchanting and magical locations, Mürren is located in a little section of the Bernese Oberland that cannot be reached by road. Instead you drive to the foot of the mountain and take a series of telecabs up, up, up.
That's Mürren in the lower right. To reach our pension, we needed to go higher still.
And then a short hike and we were at our lodging for the night.
The pension was a bit isolated, but had killer views. In the winter I'm pretty sure you can ski to the front door. It was unbelievable at night with every star visible, the only sound cowbells tinkling softly nearby (I guess the world is just a 24 hour buffet if you're a cow...which sounds almost fun until you remember that it's an all-grass buffet).
After settling in, we decided to take a little hike before dinner.
Which took us up to a (another) pretty spectacular view.
As we were to learn the next day, these were the small(er) mountains.
On the way back we stumbled across this miniature demolition derby. While we did not donate (no cash), I couldn't help but be amazed that despite living in Switzerland and touring around, there are people who actually LIVE in Switzerland. Who wake up to those mountains every day and bring their groceries up by telecab. Amazing.
We passed through the requisite cow pasture. They were unimpressed.
Yet they wanted us to stay. We had some dinner to get back to though, and a long day of exploring the next, so we made our farewells and headed home.
Forever ago, in May, we took a weekend trip to Lake Como.
The lake was lovely but we were on a mission and had to remain focused.
We were not there to see the lake, you see.
Even though it was beautiful.
We were there to see cars.
Little cars that have traveled long distances.
Tiny bubble cars.
Cars with faces.
Cars with their own accessories.
And cars with wings.
And nice rear ends.
And senses of humor.
There were cars from home (the VD is a common issue)
And cars with awesome graphics.
They demanded appreciation.
From all ages.
I fell in love with this one.
The details were breathtaking.
My favorite photo of the trip. If this isn't a reason to learn to drive a manual transmission then I don't know what is...
