Switzerland Trip

It is day three now. Three days without my luggage and three days that I have worn the same underwear. As I write this I am riding on a train to Lyon, France where we will spend the next two nights. The countryside is soaring by and a large, teal, slow moving river parallels our tracks. I have been sweating now for about a half an hour and I have soaked through my already foul clothing to the hot and sticky yellow leather seats. I am traveling to Lyon without my backpack because of a delay on my initial flight from Raleigh to Boston. Jalcyn had the same problem I did but was able to recover hers shortly before our train was leaving. There isn't much to do now, or anyone to talk to. Our crew got scattered among nonadjacent seats and we now cook together with our backs toward our destination. It is strange how conducive a train is to thinking and writing. Hardly do I ever record my thoughts, but now I'd rather be doing nothing else. I tried Sudoku, but the images of old buildings, cute towns, and rolling hillsides distract my minds number crunching pattern searching. We just stopped in Culoz and people wander on and off the train. I wonder why we bought bus tickets and Eurail passes because as of yet, no one has bothered checking either. [Jaclyn sleeps across from me, Bryon sleeps two rows up...how can they sleep in this heat!] Today in Geneva, after a much needed night of sleep, we all walked down Rue de Chantopolet from Hotel Lido to Lake Geneva. After learning that our Eurail pass gave us rights to free boat rides we took advantage of an enormous white paddle boat with a France flag on the front and a Swiss flag on the back. To our delight the boat was not crowded and we scattered ourselves amongst various benches on the front deck and snapped pictures of the houses, hilltops, and the many sailboats in as many different angles as we could twist our cameras. Two massive pistons inside the boat, but partially uncovered, swung up and down in a circular fashion and powered the paddles attached on each side.

The day of our arrival (after Jaclyn and I had missed two of our flights and only managed to catch the second because of the help of a very nice lady from American Eagle Airlines and because we sprinted down a tremendously long terminal) we at last found my brothers, Sarah, and Chris asleep in the four bed room at Hotel Lido. We caught maybe an hour of sleep, before Jaclyn and I coaxed Aaron and the rest of the group up..mostly Aaron though. The highlight of the afternoon was exploring a Catholic Cathedral built in the 1500s. For 4 Chf we ascended a spiraling staircase that became ever steeper and narrower with escalation. The view from the top of the North tower looked out over the town and the surrounding mountains. To the southeast we could see several multicolored dots weaving back and forth...hangliders, parasailers...I wasn't sure. The clear blue lake to the North interrupted the horizon of the buildings and penetrated it towards the left of our view which presumably would funnel into a river..hmmm..maybe it is that same river we were parallel to earlier.
A train carrying 100s of miniaturized cars just passed which reminds me just how few SUVs I have seen on the roadways. Much more popular and littering the street sides are motorized scooters and motorbikes. Good gas mileage, easy to maneuver on crowded streets, a cool breeze..sounds good to me.

The landscape so far and the foliage decorating it has been unremarkable and similar to trees and rounded hills of North Carolina. What separates it, however, are the indication of a rich history. Just now on a hilltop to my left, an old stone wall. The story of this house and the walls that defended it I will never know but I imagine the generations that have seen it. As I sit here now on this train with my back to Lyon, I think of how this train and my situation within it represents myself and the many people who have come before me. Unable to see the future and only seeing what has come and past, we continue our journey and do our best to prepare for what is to come.

Everyone is sleeping here now in Zermatt, except for me and Jaclyn Several snorers are sawing away in a repetitive manner that never allowed us to get to sleep in our 8 bed dormitory at the Matterhorn Hostel. No matter how early you get up though it always feels like you should have been up a while ago; the sun rises so early. My luggage arrived in Lyon and was given to me in the first morning there. We had waited (Jaclyn and I) at the airport for the next British Air flight from London to arrive, which supposedly carried my backpack. I certainly didn't think it would travel to Lyon that fast. It has been through hell to get here though, grease, scratches, and cuts cover it, but nonetheless I have it!
Lyon was dirty and not nearly as friendly as Geneva had been. The first night we ate at an Irish Pub and weren't very pleased with the service or the food. Sarah ordered something in the hamburger section called beef tartare...after many of us had sampled it we confirmed that yes, this was indeed raw beef, probably blended and then topped with Mazarella cheese. Bryon ordered some bread and cheese and we were all excited to taste some French cheese...it tasted like toe jam with ground up medicine in it. Aaron described it as "BoBo" cheese. The hostel we stayed at was near the train station and was really nice for hostel standards. Jaclyn, Chris, Bryon, and I shared the quad room while Sarah and Aaron shared the double. I didn't have a chance to write on the train because of the beautiful scenery. It was hard to do anything but stare out the windows, first at Lake Geneva and then at the mountains, but more on that later. [Bryon just mumbled something in French between snores; he had a late night last night with Chris]
Being Houghton's, or maybe because of our Boy Scout experiences, the first place I like to go is up, and that is exactly what we did in Lyon. The fist night we had walked alongside the river after an initial scouting. The river separated the downtown from a more historic high ground which contained a fort, cathedral, and a soon to be discovered Roman amphitheater which was fascinatingly still be used, with modern lighting and stages in contrast to it's ruined form. The cathedral was breathtaking, and I cannot begin to explain the detail, size, and aura of the place. Outside and nearby was a view of the entire city. Rooftop after rooftop, and street after street, you could see the entire town and even past that to see a rounded green landscape. Lunch was purchased at an epicere on the high ground and eaten at a park down the street. We had baguettes, stinky cheese, wine, cherries, and ham. The neighborhood drunk came and tried to get a Euro from us for a beer (we had seen him chugging one outside the grocery moments before). Bryon got to practice his French on someone who was willing to work with us and he, the drunk (Gilbert), even knew some English. At one point Gilbert picked up Bryon's knife to admire it which made a few of us uneasy, but I wasn't worried. Later a couple policemen came and relieved us of his badgering. [Jaclyn has now joined me on the top bunk..Aaron and Sarah are getting up, and Bryon and Chris still remain out cold, Bryon with the occasional violent, choking, snore] It was extremely hot in Lyon and into that evening we were all tired from climbing the narrow, traversing cobble stone streets. Rue de Victor Hugo was the main walkway/street that we walked along to find ourselves downtown. The night walkers were mostly tourists, but the morning blossomed to life with many street venders selling everything from rotisserie chicken to sunglasses. I love market places. No where else do you get a better glance into the lives of the people who live there unless you are invited into there homes.

I am traveling from Brig to Spiez right now as apart of our journey from Zermatt to Interlaken. I grabbed a foot long hot dog and a Rivella at the last stop so my stomach is full and I am getting a little sleepy. The two days we spent in Zermatt were unbelievable. The contrast between the enormous snow covered mountains surrounding it and the small town and stream nestled within in was spectacular. [Jaclyn keeps wanting to read what I am writing, but I have told her she can read it when we get back...she is inpatient and not very happy about that] So far I have been able to convince a lot of people here that I am French with a bonjour, smile, and a merci. I think it worked again just now with the lady who came around to check for tickets. The first night in Zermatt we went all out for dinner to a fondue restaurant called Whymper-Stube, named after the first person who climbed the Matterhorn. The fondue was excellent, even though I didn't order it, I tried a cheesy tomato, and a potato soup like cheese fondue that the others had ordered. I needed some protein and greens so I went with a breaded pork chop and a vegetable medley. Our waitress sounded British, but could also speak German. We asked her and she advised us, as we had heard elsewhere, that the skiing was a little slushy and only one slope was open. With that advice we decided against skiing, but we definitely still wanted to see the views. [We just passed Kandersteg, and were checking out where we would be staying after Interlaken] We bought a gondola pass, probably the same ones the skiers use, and we first rode a 6 man gondola to Schwarzee paradise at 2583m. Zermatt was at 1600m. We took pictures there, of course, of the Matterhorn and the surrounding alps and then took an absolutely insane trip in a living room sized gondola to Klein Matterhorn, and Matterhorn glacier paradise. The destination was the top, and I mean the top of this huge pointed rock outcropping. How this cement building clung to the rock face I would only later find out. The trip took a room full of wide eyed, sometimes terrified, foreigners over a huge ravine and glacier fields in their slow motion free fall down the face of what we would arrive at the top of. It almost seemed like a joke that we could so quickly and easily ascend to an elevation that it took mountaineers months to prepare for and climb. The ease and speed of the trip upward, however, was not without its effects on our bodies. Half way up the last gondola ride pain jumped into my head; even walking through the tunnel on top of the mountain felt like I was doing something that my muscles didn't agree with. The tunnel led from the gondola station through the mountain to the snowy, and extremely bright, other side. Without sunglasses the light intensity and snow reflection was almost blinding. The view of the Matterhorn here was not the best, but the landscape was nothing short of breathtaking..hmmm. but that might have just been the air up there. Not much further from the exit of the tunnel through the mountain was a tunnel which would take us way down and within a glacier. Inside the glacier and away from the sun the temperatures spiked downward. At the chilly bottom were tunnels, ice sculptures of all kinds, and a sort of museum like display of carious items. With shorts and two [interruption...several days later...] jackets on the cold air climbed up my shorts and chilled my whole body. I am just glad I wasn't wearing sandals. I am picking up now while I travel from Kandersteg to Bern. The only purpose of our travels now is to arrive at the same place we began, Geneva Switzerland. WE are far from clean, although we had showers this morning our daily adventures took us to a beautiful lake above Kandersteg. Many glaciers surrounded us and their corresponding waterfalls plumited downward thrashing and splashing from rock to rock until the water finally collected in Lake Oschinese. More on how we got to the top in a minute. Jaclyn sits across from me now, my only companion in second class now that Bryon has been thrust on his own where he will spend two months at the International Scout Center in Kandersteg. Recently I have been playing doctor, as Jaclyn had a large, raw, and quite dirty blister on the sole of her left foot. I got it cleaned up with some alcohol (ouch...) and it is much better now...at least I think so. But now, back to how we got to Lake Oschinisee. Chris, Aaron, and I made the foolish, but rewarding journey on the bikes we all rented the previous day. We spoke with a gentlemen at the train who we would later find to be rather ignorant and we took a look at a very misleading map while scoping out the paved trail through and up the ravine to where we would meet Jaclyn, Bryon, and Sarah, who opted for the less rigorous gondola ride and short hike. The trip began as expected, as we had biked this same area the day before when we had been scared off by the approaching storm and fear of flash flooding. Our unacclimatized and out-of-shape bodies quickly wore down. To our surprise the road did not continue with the same incline, rather, this paved road increased to an angle that was even difficult for us to push our bikes up. Oxygen deprivation set in and our calves burned as we slowly strode forward, taking many "scenic breaks." I say scenic because when the mountain [change of trains in Bern, then short nap] won't let your body proceed, you stop, and admire the magnificent landscape and all the hard work you have done to get where you are. About and hour later, maybe a little longer, the ground finally began to level and we were able to climb upon our bikes again and roll upon the scene we had been picturing many meters below (about 1500m). Facing the lake and the Rothorn Mountains was a restaurant and the ever present gift shop. The lake looked low; surrounding it was a rocky/muddy shore which was probably under water during peak summer. Above this lay tired, cud-chewing cows with massive bells around their neck which rung out with every new mouthful of grass. Surrounding the lake 180 degrees was the steep rock face of the Rothorn Mountains. Clinging to the top were giant glaciers that leaked to form waterfalls (at least 9) that collected in Oschinescee Lake. The ride down was certainly easier, but a little frightening. Both brakes had to be used and with even small bumps it wouldn't have been hard to flip right over the front handlebars. Close to the bottom, but still pretty high, we stopped at the base of a waterfall we had seen from the train station, parked our bikes an ascended straight up next to a creek and to the highest possible point we could go beneath the waterfall and the enormous rock face. From here we could see trains come and go and we saw the gondola ride the others had taken, and the crazy vertical road we had painstakingly conquered.
From there to the train station was uneventful. We dropped off our bikes and headed back to our hotel (Gemmi Lodge) to retrieve our luggage and say our farewells to Bryon. He looked nervous and uncertain, and rightfully so. He is now on his own and will have to fully rely on the camp and its personnel for the next two months. However, I know that he will find his place there. I am jealous of his situation and the many experiences he will have there.
Gemmi Lodge was by far the nicest place we have stayed. It is a good 30 minute walk from the train station, but the facilities and common areas were extremely nice. We slept on cots in two adjacent four bed rooms and downstairs we played pool, foosball, and chess while watching Angola vs Netherlands on TV. The place was strange though because there was not a full-time employee and many times we found ourselves completely alone. A refrigerator containing drinks were 3.50 Chf and were bought entirely on the honor system. We were truly in a small town and I thoroughly enjoyed it.
I am home now and I have had a few days to recover, although it is 9 pm right now and I could certainly go to bed. Hopefully I can get my body readjusted soon! Jaclyn and I didn't have as much trouble with our plans on the way back, but it didn't go as smoothly as hoped. On our flight from London to JFK (one that we barely made anyway) Jaclyn's seatbelt was covered in blood...pretty gross. The airlines also managed to lose our luggage once again. We waited at customs in JFK and our luggage never came. It just arrived here today. I have been uploading pictures on flickr and they came out great. Looking back at the pictures helps me realize how truly amazing this trip was. The beauty on this earth, the landscapes, people, and traditions are incredible. I have learned so much about other cultures and people and I have a greater appreciation and understanding of life in general. So many times I felt at home in these foreign places and so many times I looked at the people who lived there and thought, "you are no different than me." The only barrier was language, yet even then a smile and a salutation (in any language) was enough to communicate a fundamental understanding. On this trip I felt an unprecedented connectedness with my ancestors and people from all over the world. I have seen that there are good, friendly, helpful people all over and the barriers that we sometimes use to separate ourselves are really artificial and easily torn down. I cannot fully express how spectacular and meaningful this trip was for me in words, but as I go over my mental and digital photographs I feel an overwhelming sense of delight and inspiration.