Between Bretagne, Normandie and the sea

Monday, 11 August 2008

Abbaye du Mont-Saint-Michel

European Adventure Travel Day 9
Le Mont-Saint-Michel, France

The train from Rennes to Pontorson was much smaller than the high-speed trains, and as it turns out the station is near the end of the line and has only one track. At the station, I jumped on a big bus with a sign in the window for the abbey (2 euro). The bus careened around the bends in the narrow road out toward the coast, and we passed a windmill that one of the Americans sitting in front of me defined as a "pointy building with a big fan." I think she was joking...

First look at the abbey

The sheer number of people out at the abbey was overwhelming. Never go anywhere in August! Tourists had pretty much taken over a field with their cars, buses and campers. People were walking in the narrow road and didn't even seem to notice when the bus lurched by, mere inches from their bodies. Sometimes, a fellow tourist would pull another one out of the way.

Coastal parking lot

The history of Mont-Saint-Michel is interesting. It began as a shrine to the archangel Michael in 708, and became a site of pilgrimage. As it evolved over the centuries into more than a sanctuary, the abbey was built wrapped around the hill and crowned with the abbey church. The Benedictines settled in the abbey in the 10th century, and after that a village began to grow below its walls, extending all the way to the foot of the rock by the 14th century. It was a stronghold during the Hundred Years War, then a prison from the revolution until 1863. People of the middle ages regarded the abbey as a representation of the heavenly Jerusalem on earth, Paradise.

To get to the abbey, you have to walk up the steep, winding streets, just wide enough for four people to stand abreast. Of course, in August, there are about four lines of people trying to go down and two lines pushing their way up, so progress is very slow. The streets are lined with shops full of postcards and ice cream, and the beer is as cheap as water.

Enochlophobes, beware!

After climbing up to the actual abbey, there was a line to stand in for tickets (8.5 euro). The five Americans from the bus and I noticed each other scrutinizing the time tables for the train, so we started talking. It turned out that we were all headed back to Paris, and we needed to catch the last train out of Pontorson about seven o'clock. By this time, it was late afternoon and we knew we didn't have time to dawdle along with the audio tour, so I sort of joined up with them to see the place.

The abbey is magnificent. It's cool and dim inside, especially in the huge rooms with vaulted Gothic ceilings and massive pillars. There are rose windows set in round the top, so light streams down from above, casting strange shadows on the floor. There was a an international art exhibit going on as well, so we would pass the altars and crucifixes in alcoves and come out by the photographs of China and the Serengeti. I wish I could have seen the abbey without anyone in it. The arrows pointed us our through a little door, and we emerged in a flagstone courtyard, with a wall overlooking the Bretagne coast. People were on the beach below scrawling all sorts of things in the sand and waving at everyone who would look down.

Vive le libre!

Inside one of the galleries are a set of models, depicting the different building stages in the history of the abbey, literally from the ground up. The statue atop the belfry was designed at the end of the 19th century, and was cleaned and restored to its postition -via helicopter- in 1987.

That's St. Michael up at the top

Aware that we were running out of time, we pushed our way down the streets to the bottom of the hill. Half the group made it to the bus stop on time, but let the bus go because the others were late. The next bus came an hour late, so Brent-from-Texas and I left the others and took a walk around the base of the hill. This little chapel is built on an outcropping of rock and is reached by stone steps. The wind kicked up all of a sudden, blowing sand in our eyes. This picture makes me laugh... it looks like the tourists have chucked one of their own over the side and are telling him "Spain will be on your left in a bit!"

Man overboard at the chapel!

Brent-from-Texas was quite nice, and smart. We got back around to the others, but decided worrying about the bus coming on time wouldn't help anything, so we sat and talked. As it turned out, the bus came on time, but that parking lot full of cars was emptying onto the road when we pulled out, so it took an agonizing 36 minutes to get back to the station, during which the two girls kept an eye out for hotel vacancy signs. We pulled up to the station with one minute to spare. We could see the train coming toward us, so we literally bailed off the bus and dashed through the tiny station. The conductor was standing on the other side of the tracks, hollering for us to jump because the train was coming (because it's a one track station, Paris-bound train board on the far side so you have to walk across the tracks).

I wish you could have seen how utterly ridiculous we were... hot, sweaty, desperate tourists madly sprinting through a building and flinging ourselves across the tracks. The station master must have had a good laugh after our train pulled away!

Said goodbye to the other Americans when we changed trains in Rennes, went to the ticket counter and asked, in French, for un billet pour Paris.

Got back to L's flat long after dark, found her a little bit worried by my tardiness, and quickly settled in to exchange my tales of bomb threats and mad dashes for hers of the Tunisian sun. She made me a Tunisian royale (Tunisian fig liqueur and champagne) and my Paris adventure started in earnest.

It's a mad world

Monday, 11 August 2008

European Adventure Travel Day 9
Paris to Rennes, France

I was woken around six am by crashing and banging in the street. I thought it was the garbage man, but in actuality it was the little grocery store across the road getting the morning bread delivery. Went back to sleep for an hour and a half and then got ready to hit the road for Rennes, where I could make a connection to take me out to the coast to see le Mont-Saint-Michel. Left L a note saying I'd be back before dark.

First adventure of the day: buying a Metro pass. At the station I entered, tickets are only available at the kiosk, not at the help desk. I asked the man at information for assistance because I couldn't read enough French to actually make the purchase, so he came grumpily around the barrier and pushed all the buttons to make the machine spit out the little slip of paper that matched the plethora of white bits littering the ground.

I got through the metro to the Paris Montparnasse station without further incident. Gare* Montparnasse is the Paris station that serves Brittany and the Atlantic coast all the way down to Spain. Upon arrival, I booked a ticket to Rennes, but as I've mentioned before, book early on French trains or you'll spend all day in the train station. With my EuRail pass, I only had to pay the reservation fee.

As I waited in the station, I began to notice an increased number of French soldiers milling about the platforms. They were eventually joined by the police, who cordoned off the platforms with yellow tape. A crowd quickly grew on our side of the tape, and in short order people were asking each other what was going on. They even asked me, but I just shrugged and said "sais pas**" and "aucune idée***" like everyone else (pardonnez-moi all you formal French-speakers... confusion promotes slangy tendencies).

*Train station
** Dunno
*** No idea

All of a sudden, the bomb squad pushed their way through the crowd and disappeared near the tracks. All was quiet for about 10 minutes, and then there was the sound of an explosion, like a muffled gunshot. Soon afterward, the soldiers, the police and the bomb squad reappeared, removed the tape and went on their way. L told me later that it was probably a piece of abandoned luggage that the bomb squad blew up, but it was very exciting.

Uneventful train ride to Rennes, where I had to wait another couple of hours. After I bludgeoned my way through the language barrier, I obtained a ticket to Pontorson/Mont-Saint-Michel. Sometimes the French can understand my French, but sometimes they can't, but this is hardly a recent phenomenon. Mark Twain wrote in The Innocents Abroad:

"In Paris they just simply opened their eyes and stared when
we spoke to them in French! We never did succeed in making
those idiots understand their own language."

I adore Mark Twain. I was, however, able to finally make myself understood. My trouble was not in buying the ticket, but in figuring out in which tiny little hamlet I should get off the train.

Gare de Rennes

Two hours to explore Rennes, the home of Stade Rennais Football Club of the top French soccer division Ligue 1. This is important because the club is the current home of American defender Carlos Bocanegra. And yes, he transferred to the club mere weeks before I was in the city. Shhh.


Wide, shady cobbled streets with big building and trees whose branches intertwine in a leafy strip. Not very many people about, except in the cafés. The Rennes canals are quiet and lined with arrangements of red, white and blue flowers.

Rennes canal

This café made me laugh. It just seems so... earnest.

(click)

Café le Peanut's

Bought deliciously greasy olive bread for lunch and got on the train to the coast.

To be continued.

Border Crossing

Saturday, 9 August 2008

European Adventure Travel Day 7
Lausanne, Switzerland to Paris, France

Y'all need another train pic. Breaking train rules (not allowed to put feets on seats! shhhhh) and giving J the stink-eye. Probably sweaty and gross from climbing unnecessary stairs.

What?

S dropped J and me off at the train station in Lausanne; J to catch a train to Zurich and her flight back home, and me to Paris. After a week spending every moment with someone, it's a strange thing to be alone. Fortunately the ride from Lausanne back to Geneva is short, and I had a three-hour wait at Geneva's La Gare de Cornavin until my train left for Paris. Loads of people were milling about the station, and there were many eager young people with coolers hanging from straps about their shoulders foisting small cartons of ice cream on passers-by. Didn't mind a bit.

I wandered around downtown Geneva for a bit, but there was a festival going on and it was very crowded. Believe it or not, I have very few pictures of Geneva. However, I present to you La Cité du Temps, which of course means the City of Time, an exhibition center focused on time. It's located at Pont de la Machine 1, which may be the best street name ever... well, bridge really. Pont de la Machine has been a Geneva landmark since the 1840s, when it was built to supply water to the public fountains. That's it in the center, behind the bridge. I know it's a terrible picture, but it was really bright that day. I needed that ice cream in the train station!

If you want a better look, just google "Cité du Temps," but I can't promise any other bloggers will have my scintillating wit. ;)

I never saw blue like that before... on the Pont de la Machine

I bought a Swatch watch. It's really big... I think even Sabit would be impressed (Yes, it has been six months and I still haven't reset it to PST. I'm running on Parisian time. Don't judge.).

FINALLY the train came to take me to PARIS!

A word to the wise: if you go to France or travel by train in France, BOOK EARLY! They fill up fast and then you get terrible seats. I took TGV from Geneva to Paris (TGV stands for train à grande vitesse, which is just fancy talk for "high-speed train," top speed of 200 mph) and it was much more claustrophobic than the Swiss trains. I had a seat to myself until just over the border, when I got myself a seatmate, a Senegalese naturalized Swiss by the name of Ace.

Ace kept me company. For awhile I tried to read, but Ace talked to me about Switzerland, Paris, Senegal, America, prices of things in all four places, and anything else he thought about. We were on a night train that was due in Paris around 11pm, so the view wasn't much, but as we drew closer I began to get nervous about navigating the Paris metro to my friend L's flat. She wasn't due back from her Tunisian vacation for two days yet, but she had given me detailed instructions to find her place from five different train stations in Paris. Not included in this list was our destination of Gare de Lyon. I'd heard the Paris subways closed at midnight, (which is not true) so I was really worried about not making it there in time, so Ace started talking me through it. An Indian man across the aisle was sitting by himself, and perked up his ears when I started talking about Boston. By the time we'd moved on to my fear of the Paris metro, he was obviously interested in our conversation, then surprised us both by pulling out a metro map and handing it to me.

Do you see now why this was daunting?

As it turned out, Ace walked me into the metro, helped me buy a ticket, then guided me to the 14 line (purple) in the direction of Châtelet, where I was to change to the 7 line (pink). He made sure I'd be fine on my own before he caught the 14 in the opposite direction.

Oh, the kindness of strangers.

For the record, the metro only looks scary on a map. Very easy to get around in, even if you don't speak French. I had the added challenge of being alone, under Paris at night, on the verge of being sick, but I made it to The Aubergine. A bit of fumbling with the strangely shaped key, wiped my feet on the Chelsea mat(haha), then fell into bed.

In Paris!

A long time ago, people lived here and they had funny names

Friday, 8 August 2008

European Adventure Travel Day 7
Murten and Avenches, Switzerland

To get to Murten on Friday morning, J and I had to endure a really long day on Thursday (map of adventure). After parts one, two and three ,we took a night train from Buchs through Bern to Fribourg. We stayed in a hostel tucked into the back of a hospital, where we were greeted by the sound of vigorous vomiting when we went to brush our teeth. Clean, tidy nice place though. It was pouring rain when we got into town.

Friday morning we took a train to Murten, another small, walled, old city not far from Fribourg, on the shores of Lake Murten. The town is famous for its defeat of Charles the Bold. Good name. Hereafter, I request to be addressed as Meagan the Bold. I digress. Murten has a 13th century castle, which is privately owned and not available for touring, but cool nonetheless.

Château de Murten

The town wall is different than that of Lucerne's. It's a narrow walk encircling the town, and you can almost reach out and touch the steep rooftops of the houses. We were there early in the morning and all was quiet, except for some laborers discussing the day's project down in the street. One of them saw us, so I waved at him and he nodded. All four of his friends immediately turned and waved at us.

The wall of Murten

Next we boarded a train for Avenches, which you must pronounce in a French accent (aaaahh-vonsh), or the ticket people will stare at you confusedly while you stammer and gesture. This is French Switzerland, after all... We got there and had to walk up a hill from the station to the old part of town (which is very common), but our ability to translate signs into actual directions was a bit off, so we wandered in circles for awhile before seeing anything that looked remotely ancient. the first thing happened to be the ampitheatre, around which scaffolding was being erected for the summer open-air rock festival. I'm sure Dionysius is proud.

Avenches was once Aventicum, the capital of Roman Helvetia, founded around 72 BC. Once a city of 20,000, it's now home to about 2600. The ruins at Avenches include the ampitheatre (which was actually of a respectable size- eventually enlarged to 16,000 seats, or half the size of the Colosseum), thermal baths, theatre, sanctuary, temple, walls and gate.

The Roman ampitheatre of Aventicum: once held gladiator battles, now holds rock and opera concerts

This is the Roman sanctuary, or rather, the column that remains. It's named for the storks that nested on it. A golden bust of the emperor Marcus Aurelius was found here.

Sanctuaire du Cigognier - Aventicum

Past the sanctuary was the theatre, where we spent the most time. Having never been to Rome, these are my first Roman ruins, and it's absolutely crazy to think that the yellow wildflowers have taken up residence on the stone steps that were filled with people laughing and talking and living two thousand years ago. Maybe it's because I'm from a "baby" country, but even the "1202" scratched on one of the stones gave us pause.

Roman theatre

I like history. I like big words, pompous language, and standing in places of importance. I think it's neat that Swiss money is called "CHF," which stands for Confederation Helvetica francs. However, standing on Roman ruins is one of the coolest things I've ever experienced. It amazes me that so much of the grandeur of days gone by has survived for us to see.

Foreground: Roman theatre. Background: Roman sanctuary and the town of Avenches

I just like this picture.

While J and I were trying to find the ruins, we were wandering the cobbled streets of the town in the wrong direction and we saw a cat. This cat was sunning itself on the street when it caught sight of a moth. At first, the cat ignored the moth while it fluttered and hovered, then the cat began idly batting at it. The cat got more and more into the game, catching the moth in its teeth and letting it go, then sitting on the moth and looking confused. Finally, the cat twirled and leaped after the moth down the street. We named him Gladiator Cat, in honor of the location and because of what he put that moth through. It was hysterical, though.

The people of Avenches are absolutely lovely and so helpful. I highly recommend a visit to this place.

Baggin' It

J and I traveled in style. The Swiss trains were almost never full, except for rush hour trains between the largest cities, which meant we never had to make reservations. We'd just hop on a train, flash our Eurail passes and sit back. This also meant that our backpacks (close friends by this time) could sit with us, rather than languish, cold and lonely, on the luggage racks near the train doors.

I named my backpack "Fatty." Only because he was so heavy I had to put him on standing up or I'd topple over, I promise! I actually did topple over in the Amsterdam airport, but that's a story for another time. Haha. I took this picture on the train between Murten and Avenches, Switzerland.

That's Fatty on the left. J didn't name her bag. I think she didn't want to hurt its feelings.

Fatty looks like a dinosaur from the front. See the eyes on top, and the little hands? ...he's definitely eating something. Grarr!

Fatty and No-Name at Interlaken Ost

Switzerland was the easiest country to get around in by train. Stations are clearly marked, the arrivals/departures boards are easy to find and read, train announcements are in four languages, and there's almost always someone who speaks English if you're in desperation. French trains are very no-nonsense and you must always have a reservation, or else. Dutch train stations were fairly easy to get around, but it was hard to see the station signs when the train pulled in. Italian trains have the best cappucino carts.


In other news: I'm trying the three-column blog style on for size. Also, I have a totally sweet logo that shows up when you bookmark this page. I'm very excited about it. :)

*To paraphrase Mel, comments are like word crack. I just can't get enough. Please help!*

The Land of Sir Ulrich

Thursday, 7 August 2008

European Adventure Travel Day 6
Part 3: Vaduz, Leichtenstein

Getting to Liechtenstein was an adventure. After arriving in Buchs by train, J and I had to catch the lime green bus that would take us over the border to Liechtenstein's capital city, Vaduz. We had to wait for the bus in the rain, and when we got on board, it was chock-full of people returning from a trip to the swimming pool and speaking a language we didn't recognize. Later we figured out that it was the fourth Swiss language, Romansch.

Fürstentum Liechtenstein

(Welcome to the Principality of Liechtenstein)

J and her handy-dandy guide book got us safely off the bus. Unsure where to begin our visit, the rain turned into a thunderstorm and decided for us. We ducked for cover inside this church. St. Florinskirche is a gothic cathedral where the members of the Liechtenstein royal family are married and baptized. It's beautiful... and huge.

St. Florin's Parish Church

After most of the lightning had subsided, we continued on down Staedtle Street towards the pedestrian town center. I was backed up against a wall trying to fit the whole of the Government Building in my frame (hence its former affectionate nickname "The Large House"), but finally gave up and settled for the coat of arms over the entrance.

The Government Building, once known as the "Large House," and Liechtenstein's princely coat of arms

I like national flags, but when you find a cow painted as the flag it's even more fun. Mooooo. I hope you know that I sacrificed my dignity to post this picture...

I never saw a purple cow. I never hope to see one... but red and blue cows are okay.

The storm picked up again, so J and I waited it out in the tourist center, where there were lots of stamp collectors wandering in and out. I'm not a philatelist, so J and I had our passports stamped instead. We also picked up loads of free stuff like stickers, postcards and candy. Also temporary tattoos. That's right... I have a Liechtenstein tattoo!

We moved on to the shops, where I could have purchased all manner of things to authenticate my time in-country, but being happy with my temporary tattoos, I decided to forego the steins and cuckoo clocks.

Castles are everywhere!

As we headed back toward the lime green bus stop, we came across this. Now, wikipedia claims that Liechtenstein is a capital of winter sport, so this was really funny. We stopped and watched for a bit. Didn't hurt that the guys were easy on the eyes.

One thing I never expected to see in a tiny mountain country:

an international beach volleyball tournament

We stopped at a grocery store for dinner (those Coop signs in the above picture are one of the two major grocery stores in this part of the world... Migros is the other) because that's what J and I do. The grocery stores over here sell lassis of all flavors to go. I picked out a chai lassi, and then, besides the usual assortment of fresh bread, cheese, meat (chorizo, this time), and chocolate, I found Guaraná Antarctica. Yes, I know it's Brazilian, but Vaduz is where I tried it for the first time. It is amazing. J was laughing at me because I went a little bit crazy in the store.

Vaduz, Liechtenstein, as seen from the Swiss countryside

A sign on the bus forbade the partaking of food and drink enroute, but J and I surreptitiously snacked on some candy called Maoam (fruit flavored chews similar to Laffy Taffy). Shhh, don't tell. We were soaked and starving, very bad combo. We did have a great view of the city on the way out, after the clouds had cleared off a bit. Vaduz is literally a mountainside city.

Painted cows, beach volleyball and an attack by lightning. All in a day's touring.

Modern fairytales

Thursday, 7 August 2008

European Adventure Travel Day 6
Part 2: Stein am Rhein, Switzerland

In the end, I'm not sure how we found this beautiful little town, but I think J read about it in her ever-present guidebook. I had a roommate who lived in Basel (due west along the Rhein) for a year, but she had never heard of this place. Too bad. She missed out. Stein am Rhein was one of the highlights of my trip.

We got off the train in the newer part of the city and followed the procession of bathing suits, inflatable rafts and picnic baskets down the street and around the corner to the river. Next to the bridge, which leads to the medieval town center, there's a lovely pushing-off point for boaters. Naturally, it being a gorgeous (and hot!) day, there were a plethora of ambitious paddlers crowding the area. We dodged them and continued across the river. You can't tell from the pictures, but the entire length of the bridge is bedecked with flowers, and all manner of boats displaying both Swiss and German flags move up and down the river with varying degrees of speed and jollity.

Looking from new to old, under the shadow of the castle: Burg Hohenklingen

As soon as we crossed over the Rhein, we figured out what gives the town the reputation of being one of the most beautiful cities in Switzerland. All the buildings are exquisitely painted, some have colorful shutters and trim, some are giant canvases for bright, fairytale-esque murals. Most have window boxes full of geraniums. The old city center is beyond picturesque... it's like stepping into another world. J describes it as 'Hans Christian Andersen.' The façade paintings on the building date back as far as the early 1500s. Stein am Rhein was bombed during the second World War, but all the pretty stuff made it through.

Medieval Stein am Rhein

In the middle of the square are all the tables that belong to the sidewalk cafés. We arrived at lunchtime, and most shops close for one hour around noon. The intense heat appeared to have little effect on the average appetite, as evidenced by the delicious smells we caught as we passed families carving into whole roast chickens and dipping into pots of fondue.

Even the streets fit the theme of the town. Saint George battles the dragon every ten feet or so. The ladies of the town must be so proud. But then again... it's not a very big dragon.

The fairytale town's own Knight in Shining Armor

One of the best things about Switzerland: public water fountains! They can be a lifesaver in August. I may have bought several large bottles of water and Rivella before I understood what they were. Most of them are pretty, some are plain, but all of them provide cold, fresh, running water for your hydration needs.

On a side note, Rivella is good. It's made from milk serum, but it tastes kind of citrus-y. J and I were not able to identify it satisfactorily, but yum. I love trying all the crazy foods in other countries that I can't get at home.

And you thought cats didn't like water!

Since most of the shops were temporarily closed for lunch, J and I ambled outside the north city gate to see this church. Its copper roof has turned as green as the Statue of Liberty from years of inclement weather. I love Swiss graveyards. Rather than grassy fields or bare church floors, the graves are turned into well-kept flowerbeds.

After lunch, J and I browsed a few shops in the town. One shop was four or five rooms absolutely filled with blown glass: vases, ornaments, jewelry, tiny animals... everything you can imagine. I was tempted by the glass animals, because my mother has collected them since childhood, but I thought it best not to chance it in the backpack for another three weeks. J, heading back home long before I would, bought the most adorable frog (which did make it back to the States in one piece).

After shopping we went down the to riverbank, where J tried to convince me not to jump in, pack and all. It was that hot. I compromised with my toes, then we walked away from the land of enchantment, back to the train station. We headed for Buchs, via Rorschach and Romanshorn. Not that you particularly needed to know that, but I think those are fantastic city names. :)

Next adventure, Liechtenstein!

He who falls in lake gets wet.

Wednesday, 6 August 2008

European Adventure Travel Day 5
Part 2: Luzern to Lugano to Zurich, Switzerland

To help you get the idea of the ridiculousness of our travel, I made a map detailing our journey on August the sixth. Practicality? Pssssh, who needs it? Although we did feel a bit like we were leaving a trail like the kids in the Family Circus cartoons...

We made it to Lugano, so far south that the only thing distinguishing it from Actual Italy is paying with francs. And the uniforms of the police. Anyway, I think everything sounds prettier in the language it's meant to be said in, so I present to you Città di Lugano, the city of Lugano.

Lago di Lugano through some trees and a pointy thing

Italian Switzerland is very hot. The sun beats down on the lakes, and since I'm sure most of you had high school chemistry, you can imagine the humidity. So, the pictures are a little hazy. Sorry.

Inside the Cattedrale di San Lorenzo, Lugano, Switzerland

This church is high on the hill above the city. It's decorated inside with red and black marble, and there are old frescoes on the walls that are partially rubbed away by time. The ceilings and pillars look like they are inlaid, the wood is old, and all the grates are wrought-iron. There are all sorts of other delights hiding away in the dim recesses of the alcoves. It's absolutely beautiful.

Prayer Candles

Some things are newer than others. Some things don't change.

Steep streets in Lugano

After leaving the cathedral, we headed for the lake. The streets in Lugano are steep, as evidenced by the shallow steps in the 'sidewalk' in the above photo, but they're home to loads of sidewalk cafés, full of customers all day long. The tables don't tip. The physics defy me.

We stopped by a gelato stand on the lakeshore. J didn't want any, but I love the stuff. I hope they serve stracciatella gelato in heaven. Because greed does not apply to gelato, I also had the Fruita Esotica. :)

Mmm...gelato

For those of you who have never had the pleasure, gelato is Italian ice cream, but denser and lower in fat (but not in flavor!) than American ice cream. Stracciatella, also known as Romeo & Juliet, means 'torn apart' in Italian. Makes sense, right? Anyway, it's made of amazing vanilla with shaved chocolate. But if you're not into that, gelati comes in zillions of other flavors. Not even kidding.

The church bells were ringing, but I didn't go to service. Please don't tell my mother.

We continued around the lake for awhile, before facing the flight of several hundred stairs that took us back to the road the train station was on. We noticed an old trolley track next to the steps as we dragged ourselves up, but we figured that it had died of exhaustion long ago.

When we climbed, gasping, to the top of the hill where the train station was located (naturally), who did we see walking toward us but Sabit, the Turkish boy we got to know in Interlaken? His face was absolutely priceless as it morphed from recognition to shock to glee in just a few seconds. We told him where to go for good gelato, then hopped a train back to Zurich.

Lucerne is for Lovers

Wednesday, 6 August 2008

European Adventure Travel Day 5
Part 1: Interlaken to Lucerne, Switzerland

A commentary on some pictures for you all. Lucerne was one of my favorite places in Switzerland.


This photograph was our last look at Interlaken, as the train rolled out around the eastern lake.

Brienzersee

Lucerne/Luzern is absolutely breathtaking. The city is built on the shores of Lake Lucerne, straddling the Reuss River. It has a medieval town center, two medieval bridges, and an old city wall, not to mention the awesome lion monument in my last post. We literally walked out of the train station and saw this:

Kapellbrücke - Chapel Bridge

J and I followed a map up to the top of this hill so we could check out the view from the city walls, which now divide the old city from the modern city. Hills get steeper when you take your 20kg backpack with you. And, the towers actually being quite old, the staircases inside them are steep and narrow, and sometimes the steps are really tall. We had shaky-leg syndrome by the time we reached the top.

City walls and watchtower of Lucerne

This man was on the roof of the watchtower. I may have been guilty of making a "manskirt" comment. Or two. He took them stoically.

Friend of the Roof Squirrels

The view is worth the climb, shaky legs and all. Idyllic. The lake, the mountains, all the beautiful old churches and bridges. Gorgeous.

Land of Yoghurt and other Dairy Delicacies

This fellow and some friends were grazing at the base of the wall. I love his horns. And the look on his face. My brothers give me that look sometimes. I'm sure I don't deserve it.

Moooooooo.

We had to return to the train station eventually. We went to the grocery store inside the station for lunch, and I found a rack of rolls shaped like animals for children. Let me tell you, if you've never had European bread, you are missing out. J and I ate a lot of bread and cheese on our trip, mostly because we didn't want anything else. Soooooo good.

Turtles can be bread, too!

If you don't know already, I am a soccer/football/footy fanatic. Thus, I was excited to see this sign hanging in the train station. If you sound out all the vowels in the word, it sounds just like the commentators say it on television (Gooooooooaaaaaaal, not abfahrten). The same in any language. :)

Train station sign with priorities

Just as Mark Twain found true of the city over a hundred years ago, there are still myriads of trinket shops. I bought Swiss Army knives for some of the men in my family.
I do wish that we'd had more time in Lucerne. We visited Hofkirche, a 16th-century church with huge, heavy doors that is just beautiful inside. There was an old man praying alone in a pew, and I felt sorry for him because a large group came in after us and weren't very respectful. He lit a candle and returned to the sunshine. We had to get back on a train to go south to Lugano (between Bellinzona and the Swiss-Italian border), and it's a three-hour ride.