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St. Moritz: Yakking in a yoghurt pot
Posted by daveb on September 28th, 2007
St. Moritz is a lovely resort village. Or so I’m told. Sadly, I spent much of my time swilling-out Squiffy’s previous meals from a catering-sized yoghurt pot, as she suffered a migraine with hyperventilation with [suspected] altitude sickness in the Youth Hostel, which was across the pond from the town.
Shame, poor Squiffy — after sitting on a train for six hours, all she got to see of St. Moritz was the inside of a yoghurt pot.
Shame, poor doctor — pre-yoghurt pot, Squiffy was sick onto his hand.
To compound matters further–and after a sleepless night organising doctors, pharmaceuticals, etc.–I misread the return train times on our tickets and got us to the station forty-one minutes after the last direct train to Brig had departed. Three train changes and seven hours later, I’m pleased to tell you that we were back in Brig, gobbling McDonalds happy meals just prior to taking refuge in a quiet spot off the road for the night, i.e. the back of an all-night car wash.
(PS: Squiffy has fully recovered now. The doctor, however, is still traumatised.)
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Glacier Express: The slowest express train in the world
Posted by daveb on September 27th, 2007
To give Yoko a well deserved rest, we decided to take the twelve hour return-trip from Brig to St. Moritz aboard the Glacier Express — famed for being the slowest express train in the world. This was not going to be a cheap excursion for us: The tickets were 96 CHF each person, each way, plus an infuriatingly budget-airline-esque mandatory booking fee of 30 CHF each person, each way also. For the two of us, this worked out at 504 CHF, about £210 — even before we threw in accommodation and food at the upmarket St. Moritz. Still, it’s Switerland’s most famous railway line and promises fabulous views from the recently-introduced panoramic coaches.
Should you wish to take the train yourself someday, know that hot meals and also first class coaches are available, both at an additional cost. One more thing: Make sure that you are booked onto a panoramic coach, they have much more glass that a regular coach and cost no more. We chose to ride second class and brought our own food as, we were already pulling the stuffing out of our weekly budget just by being here.
The Swiss trains put most British ones to shame. They are clean, spacious and air-conditioned throughout. Happily we were sat opposite Roger, a keen traveller/tour guide/writer/entrepreneur who had relegated himself to our second-class coach–from first–as his group of American tourists had taken up all the seats. Good job too: We couldn’t have asked for a more pleasant train-buddy to chat with over the next six hours, whilst oohing and aahing at the mountains and sucking-in the alpine air.
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The Matchstick Speedometer
Posted by daveb on September 26th, 2007
The speedometer in our bus had stopped working. We decided to struggle on, as Swiss mehanics are bound to be expensive. Later that day, we had an ‘incident’ (*cough* stalled-it *cough*) on a steep incline in which we needed to perform a hill-start, with a generous application of handbrake. SQ pulled-up the handle and took her foot off the brake. We rolled backwards. I muscled on another couple of notches and we still rolled. We eventually stopped, but only when the incline levelled-out. Off to the mechanics we went.
I checked my trusty Haynes manual for handbrake adjustment notes and, because I still haven’t found anywhere to sell me a jack, toddled off to suitably cheap-looking mechanic. Easy job, I thought. And, whilst I’m here, they can fix the speedo too.
Yoko up on ramps (again) and the back wheels came off to tighten the handbrake cable. “Funny” I thought “the Haynes just says that only a single nut elsewhere under the car needs to be tightened. Still, these guys are bound to know more than me, so I’ll just watch and learn.”
Looking at my other manual, How to keep your Volkswagon alive, suggested that the speedo fault might lie in the front-left wheel — yes, the *same* front-left wheel which I’ve mistrusted from day-one. Anyhow, the mechanic saw fit to take apart the instrument panel and–pling–the needle from a unorderable 25 year old speedometer detached itself from the dial and span off into the ether. He handed me the speedometer dial, with the words “it’s broken”.
Unfortunately, I had to go back the next day to get the handbrake cable fixed properly — this time the Haynes way. And, as you’ll have no-doubt seen from the photo above, we now have a matchstick for a speedo needle.
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Leukerbad: Eye surgery appreciation
Posted by Squiffy on September 25th, 2007
Remember my laser eye surgery 6 months ago? Well, many times on this trip I have appreciated the fact that I no longer have to wear glasses or contact lenses, or swap between glasses and sunglasses every time I go in a shop/cafe/etc. Today however, I really appreciated my new eyesight. This morning I was in a magnificent thermal bath in the middle of the mountains in Leukerbad, looking out at the vista without misting up.
The view from the spa is fantastic, looking out onto craggy mountains and snowy peaks, with cable cars and hang-gliders in the foreground. The weather today is perfect, hot and sunny with a light breeze, warm enough even for a spot of sun bathing on the spa terraces.
From our position on the terrace we were able to see the ‘cows coming home’ ceremony. Every September the cows are brought down from the mountains where they have been grazing all summer and this day (different in every town) is a treated as a festival. The cows are dressed up to wear flowers on their heads and huge clanging bells around their necks, and the local people wear traditional dress. It’s a crazy sight and sound as the procession winds its way down the mountain, a cacophony of ringing which sounds like the peel of bells at a wedding ceremony.
So all in all, not your usual day at the office.
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Gruyeres: No time to type!
Posted by daveb on September 24th, 2007
I’ve got six minutes left on this free WiFi at McDonalds to write about the beautiful medieval village of Gruyeres, and upload the photos. So here are the sights in bullet-point form:
- HR Giger museum and bar
- Castle
- Bike race
- Really nice village — go visit it! :-)
(I’m out of time, here are the pics.)
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Moleson: An adventurous courtship (trekking in a skirt)
Posted by Squiffy on September 23rd, 2007
It wasn’t long after Dave and I had started dating that I went to his flat in Spain, along with family Bartlett who I met then for the first time. We joke now about a comment his mum made as she watched me taking Dave out in a small sinking sailing dinghy without a life jacket. She quipped, “Dave, this is going to be an adventurous courtship”, referring to our recently formed relationship. Well Mrs Bartlett, you were right, and Switzerland offers many opportunities to pursue adventurous activites.
Our most recent adventures took place in Moleson, a ski resort by winter and an adventure playground in the summer. Yesterday morning we took a bob sled ride. A steep roller-coaster-like track took us to a fairly highish summit from where we plunged down through twist and turns to the bottom. It wasn’t particularly scary but it did make me giggle.
The day before however was slightly more nerve-wracking.
(daveb takes over the keyboard, as it’s Squiffy’s turn to make dinner: Pasta, ‘wegetables’ and sauce. Yum yum.)
We actually just came across Moleson Village on our way to Gruyeres (as in Swiss cheese) because the sign had a picture of a cable car on it and Squiffy got excited. Me? I’ve never much had a head for heights but also don’t like to allow my fears to prevent me from experiences that I think I might enjoy.
The summit is 2002 metres above sea-level. A funicular railway takes you half-way up the base of the mountain and a cable car does the rest. We bought a three-leg ticket thinking that we’d get the transit to the top, eat fondue–naturally–and then walk down from the summit back to the where the cable car meets the funicular and get the train back down to our bus. The packed cable car was actually a lot more relaxed than I had feared, even though there was hardly any room to move. The guy standing right next to me seemed even more nervous than I was, although I soon discovered that he was about to throw himself off the summit in the hope that his paraglider canopy stayed open…
I’m happy to report that as we stepped off the cable car, my knees started to straighten out as I stood back on terra firma. Squiffy’s legs started to go a bit jelly as she saw the path to the summit (and the ‘path’ down to the funicular). As I’ve written before in this country, the photos cannot do the panoramics justice here — you’ll just have to drive here yourself.
Just a little way down from the summit we had our first fondue together, which is basically melted cheese + wine in a pan into which you dip bread on long forks (I couldn’t figure out why they were so long, the forks?!). No less than four helpful people indicated to us that for Squiffy to attempt to walk down the summit path wearing sandals and a skirt was plain foolish, so we decided to get the cable car down to the midway point and walk the rest — which I’m glad about now, as my legs hurt enough from this ‘easy’ descent.
In fairness to SQ for her inappropriate dress, she was under the impression that we were going cheese tasting, not mountaineering!
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Broc: I feel sick!
Posted by Squiffy on September 22nd, 2007
Imagine this scenario. One sunny morning, after a gentle stroll in the mountains, you are unexpectedly presented with an unlimited, unrestricted and unsupervised supply of Swiss chocolate. Well that’s what happened to us. Ok, it wasn’t completely unexpected. We had taken a free tour of the Nestle-Callier chocolate factory, to see how the yummy stuff is made. But when we got to the tasting room we anticipated being given the odd choccy or two before being whisked off to the shop to make a purchase. What greeted us instead was tray after tray of luxury swiss chocolates, all different shapes and sizes, with no-one around to monitor our consumption. Chocolate heaven. We didn’t gobble them down completely guilt free but I definitly ate enough to leave me feeling rather sick.
What with champagne tasting in France and chocolate chomping in Switzerland this trip is definitely turning out to be a treat for the tastebuds. For anyone wishing to visit the Callier factory you can find it in Broc, just north of Lake Geneva. Entry is free :o)
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Photo of The Week – 21st September 2007
Posted by Squiffy on September 21st, 2007
hmm….I don’t think these caravanners are here just for a night or two, do you?
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Lausanne & Vevey: Five feet and ten seconds
Posted by daveb on September 21st, 2007
One year, when I was a kid, I had a bike for Christmas. I fell off it and have not gotten back on any bike since. Truth is, I’ve ‘happily’ driven a car at 130mph and ‘happily’ fallen out of an aeroplane approaching 120mph, but a bike at just 10mph was way too scary a thought for me.
Mark Phillips, a cycle-mad ex-Canary Wharf work mate, loaned me a copy of Lance Armstong’s “It’s not about the bike” autobiography 14 months ago and it planted the seed of desire for me to ride again. It’s taken me this long to mentally prepare for it! The perfect (re)learning environment would have been the now-sleepy resorts around Lac du Der in France, but alas not only was there nobody around to watch me fall, but no hire shops to loan me a bike either. Instead, I unintentionally waited until I got to the busy, hilly, university city of Lausanne before my buttocks graced the vinyl arrow once again.
Yesterday I re-learnt how to ride that bicycle that I fell off all those years ago. The setting was not ideal — the bike hire place was in the the main square of the city; Leicester Square, relatively speaking. Not a good place to learn. I begged Squiffy to push her bike on the pavement to the nearest park with me, so that I wouldn’t look like an ass on my own and she begrudgingly complied. As we neared the sloping park, we discovered a quietish piece of flat tarmac for me to have a go. And so I did.
I can’t tell you how emotional the first breakthrough five feet on that bike were. To put it into your context, take one of your top limiting beliefs and age it twenty-three years or so (if indeed it’s not already). Now disprove it within five feet and ten seconds.
Five feet and ten seconds.
Today SQ & I took the funicular railway from Vevey to Mt. Pélerin, over 1000 metres steeply upwards. Then, we rode our bikes back down to the hire-shop, all the way at the bottom of the mountain. Whilst there wasn’t too much pedalling involved–it was all VERY downhill–and I took the wobbly zig-zag route rather than the direct straight line, today I nonetheless conquered steep descents, busy fast car roads and congested city roads. On a bike.
Five feet and ten seconds to heal twenty-three years of doubt. I highly recommend it.
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Lake Geneva is not cold
Posted by daveb on September 20th, 2007
Or so I kept telling myself, as it was “tayta’s” in the water (or “freezing”, for those outside East-/South-end). It had to be done though. I’m proud of Squiffy for having a go also, even if it meant that her extremities were still white for an hour afterwards…
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