Au Pays…
Saturday 27 July
A lazy day that started with watching the squirrel darting through the branches of the trees outside on the patio. Washing. Writing. Shopping – which included a detour to memory inducing locations including the jail where Xavier was sent as a conscientious objector and the park where the tree trunk of a massive old tree exploded when it was struck by lightning during a storm in the late 90’s on the occasion of a wild, wild storm. Xavier cooked a ‘usual’ delicious dinner that we all very much appreciated. It’s one thing that we realised we are going to have to get better at doing and that is arriving early enough at a camping ground to make dinner instead of having what feel like snacks at the end of what are often big days both emotionally and physically.
Sunday 28 July
Woke up happily wallowing in the memories triggered by certain aspects of the family home.
This morning we got some homework done, although very little and then went to visit an old and dear friend of Xavier’s who lives in an old house surrounded by a wild garden with his wife and three toddlers. We had a beautiful lunch on the floor of a house supported by tree trunks and slabs of tree off cuts. The children radiate love. It was life giving to see such happiness. Our boys became baby sitters and did a great job. The pairing was a novelty.
We returned back to the family home and were greeted by Xavier’s sister and her family who drove from Noordwick, and Xavier’s father. The only person missing was Xavier’s mother. The coming together of children and grandchildren into this house that seems to have frozen in time since the death of Xavier’s mother was a special moment for us all.
Monday 29 July
Today started off with that annoying battle of resisting homework. We spent a good hour just arguing. Even Xavier’s sister had to weigh in to get things on track. Lisa had enough and left for Les Bain de Paquis, knowing fully well that the boys would soon join her.
We regrouped serendipitously out the front while looking for bike parking. The swim was tame. Very tame. No waves here but rather floaties you can swim out to, as Bienne. But it was not Bienne nor was it the diverse, free, spirited Bains de Paquis. Everyone seems to be so content with having bought into complacency and living their lives without a concern for anything that is beyond their realm. Geneva all of a sudden seemed to be asleep or in a state of geriatric retirement. We got back to Chambésy for a wonderfully dynamic family dinner. It’s such a delight being with Xavier’s sister and her family
Tuesday 30 July
Today we went looking for supplies that we need for the next leg of the trip. Had a little ride around Geneva. Visited some more of those classic memory trigger spots including the squat where Lisa lived in with the beautiful even if troubled Alexandre and then headed back to Chambésy to prepare for another family dinner.
We’re ready to leave. Although we enjoyed the memories, there is a certain sense of pathetic and hopeless nostalgia that handcuffs an ability to move beyond wallowing in them for too long.
Wednesday 31 July
We’re leaving this afternoon for Bern which signifies the start of our long ride to Vienna – second base. We should be there by the end of next month. We prepared our bags and loaded our beasts ready for a 4pm departure on train from Geneva to Bern, the capital of Switzerland where we plan on floating in the Aare and spending Swiss National day, our wedding anniversary . Much of the landscape we looked at through the windows of the beautifully designed, but nevertheless sterile train carriage, we would be riding back through in order to get to Vevey in the next few days. The train is definitely an easier trip but you don’t get to feel, smell, touch or read the land in the same way.
We got the campground which is pretty much in the centre of Bern. After a light dinner we realised that we didn’t have enough supplies for the next day because all the shops would be closed tomorrow so Xavier had to ride into town and stock up. The town was pumping as was the campground. A two-year old on a scooter going down hill with the ease and confidence of an adult, young kids having their own little mini dance parties with mobile speakers out the front of their tents. Older kids ripping by on other toys reserved for toddlers. Then there was the fabulous young girl that came and sat next to Lisa on a bench, pulled out her pencil and started to sketch the madness of the camp scene in her booklet. She was engaged, she was skilled, she was in the scene feeling its every contour. It was beautiful to watch.
Xavier remarked the number of people of all ages out and about around town, including punks. How can a city as expensive as Bern accomodate punks and Sydney can’t? There is a real social and economic problem in Sydney that kills its diversity, stifles maturity and handcuffs liberty.
The boys wanted to stay up and watch the ‘fire knights’ show which they did. We all got to bed very late and then had a pretty bad nights sleep because everyone in the camp ground was completely unhinged.
Thursday 1 August
We started out the day by drifting in the Aare River. It’s comparable to a very strong rip and once you’re in you can only keep going with it and aim to reach the red handle bars on either side of the river before you go too far and end up going over the water fall!
There is a tree – unknown by name but known to us as the summer snow tree. It is a tree that when the wind blows it seems like snow is falling and creates a sublimely beautiful atmosphere that suspends the moment. We discovered this tree on the edge of the Aare in Switzerland just as we were about to drift. Xavier went in first to test it out and determined that the current was way too strong for the boys. It was a very cool 17 degrees. Lisa and Xavier went in. Trying to keep up, the boys ran along the dirt track on the river’s edge riddled with exposed roots and low hanging tree branches. Lisa hit her lower back on a rock in the shallow soon after she got in. You have to move in to the centre of the river and not float against the edges. After floating just a minute or two in the centre Lisa started to manoeuvre to the edge and caught onto one red handle. Xavier went a little further down stream to catch onto the next one. The moment you latch on, you feel like a fish that’s been caught with your entire body re-orientated according to the force of the river. We decided that in 5 years time we’ll do it again ‘en famille’, when the boys will no doubt be stronger swimmers.
We’ll be living the moment the father and son were just before we set off. The teenage boy afraid of himself. The father telling him what he needed to focus on and encouraging him. He finally plunged with his father and off they went. He no doubt felt grateful and proud being able to overcome his fear. We wondered if he went back in again. After drying off, we headed in to the old town of Bern, where we followed the river all the way to the waterfall. Yes, you don’t want to make it that far.
The old town of Bern with it’s infamous 800-year-old Clock Tower (Zytglogge), bears, the Berner Munster (oldest church in Switzerland), the Parliament and the view of the Alpes from the city centre. The town wreaks money but unlike Sydney, the money here is very old and not built on a land grab but rather strategically fought to protect their independence. Resistance, weaponry, battles and Swiss guards all started to make sense. We had a picnic in a grandly designed park perched up high in the old town and enjoyed the power chocolate balls that Vero made for us before leaving Chambésy.
We continued on and made our way to Avenche. On the way we were treated to the flight of the milan (black kite), its skillfull dives, its seemingly peaceful although predatory flight, and then we turned a corner and an insanely beautiful, hallucinogenic view of the Alpes was spread before us. The rolling rural landscape with its shades of browns and greens was dwarfed by the white, grey, lilac, pinkish shades of the snow capped peaks of the Alps. Like witnessing a gathering of the gods at Mount Olympus – the Jungfrau, the Monche, the Eiger – they were all sublimely laid out infront of us. Such an unusual scene for our eyes to communicate back to our brains. We looked on in wonderment for a while, until we were feeling more comfortable that it wasn’t a mirage, that we weren’t dreaming that such a vision exists in the world. Majestic.
We crossed the Saane River which is a branch off the Aare. The Saane eventually turns into the Sarine which is known as the river that demarcates the «Rostigraben», which very simply put is the linguistic and subsequent cultural difference between the French and German speaking parts of Switzerland. Being Swiss National day we came across towers of dry wooden branches which people will set alight tonight and set off fire crackers. In the distance we could see the Murtensee, the Lake of Murten where we stopped to have a delicious limonetta ice block with its edible liquorice stick. Here we discussed the pre-historic stilt houses that were built atop of many different lakes in Switzerland including Morat around 5500BC, and the mythical Battle of Morat that took place here in 1476 and is considered one of the defining moments for the Swiss. The most striking contemporary black and white pattern window shutters of Murten seamlessly and respectfully sat against the stable, traditional Swiss architecture. This conflation of styles is done seamlessly well here. We made it to our Youth Hostel in Avenches and unfortunately got there too late to enjoy the dinner we could of had so we cooked outside with the voracious mosquitoes who made a dinner out of us. We were tired and hungry which made way for a grumpy evening, despite the fireworks out our window thanks to another family who came prepared for the evening
Friday 2 August
After a generous breakfast, we walked through the Roman history of Switzerland via the Musée d’Avanche. The Helvets were essentially a Celtic tribe that adopted the Roman way of life following Cesar’s arrival and more importantly following the Battle of Bibrachte. Agripinna the Younger and Agripinna the Elder captured our imaginations as these women calculated precarious passages through life alongside Nero, Tiberius, Caligula and Augustus. We loved the fact that a major relic of Roman architecture was kept and fought for by the locals because the storks come to rest on top of it after migrating from North Africa. We bought two great Gaulois and Roman cook books for the ancient yet simple recipes which we’ll be able to test out as we journey. We feel lighter since leaving the pots and pans in Geneva and although we’re conscious of not weighing ourselves down too much, there are a few things that we just can’t pass by.
Although we went back in time, the sun kept moving and we mounted our travel machines at 1pm. We didn’t have far to go. These are our shortest legs at the moment because we can’t get to Vevey before our reservation and La Fête des Vignerons anyway.
Xavier decided to take us on another family history tour which didn’t quite hit the mark. We were aiming for Montagny which is where his father used to holiday with his family. Problem was that even though Montagny les Monts is such a tiny village with just a few houses, we went straight passed 7 Impasse de la Rita, the house where Nonno Rico used to spend his holidays as a child. There weren’t any signs. What’s more it was a very hilly, draining ride from Avenches although there was a beautiful moment where we were on the plateau and could see the lake of Neuchatel and the lake of Murten/Morat, this mythical lake of Switzerland where the ancient Swiss Confederation won a battle against the Burgundian State in 1476. We passed caves that had been turned into places of prayer. Descended into the forest and to the Arbogne river and found specimens of the insects that make cocoons out of minuscule pebbles. After having to push our bikes up a steep incline from the gully which included taking all our bags off the bikes to lift them over a fallen tree, we emerged to find a perfectly sized cross which Lisa found irresistable. “Pas très Catholique” some may say.
Over “a picnic in the field” type lunch, we fantasised over the idea of setting up pit stops for travellers along these roads, including floating tents on the lakes of Switzerland.
We were planning on sleeping wild tonight but once we had reached Villariez, Xavier found a camping ground that was not too far from where we were that had room. The descent into the viallge of Villariez was fabulous – Beautiful scenery, long glide, musky perfumes, exhilaratingly refreshing. We were all so relieved that we weren’t going the other way – although we all had the climb in the back of our heads for tomorrow. We rode another 19kms. Lisa really struggled especially carrying the food for dinner that night but Oreste had an enormous amount of energy and was pushing her up the hills while proclaiming his love. As we rode, the boys were talking horse which resulted in three beautifully groomed and powerful horses running alongside them with strong necks curved and long manes flowing.
We arrived at the campground at 7:30pm and had a late dinner at 9pm. We all managed to get to bed at 10pm. It was time. A cold blanket had been thrown over us shortly after the sun disappeared behind the mountains. A great night’s sleep alongside the river – La Broye – in the company of a field of sleeping sunflowers.
Saturday 3 August
A lazy hot day in Moudon. We went in search of some local history after a morning dip in the local campsite swimming pool but the only thing that we could find of any significance was the statue of Moses which stood out proudly in this predominately protestant canton of Switzerland. The streets are incredibly hilly. We start coasting them, with encouragement from the locals, but then just before we get to the top that extra bit of incline, takes us off. The ride along the river took us to a part that looked so much like something you could find in the Australian bush and you could expect to see a platypus slip on by.
Once back at the camp ground with dinner in tow, we swam some more, did some home work, had a siesta and wrote.
Today was a much needed rest after this steep rise to higher grounds. The breathtakingly magestic power seized in the colossal mountains that surround this place don’t let you mount with ease. We’re starting to feel the last month and realise the immensity of the 5 months we have committed to. One down and four to go.
Lisa wants down time to write which is something she is really enjoying. Xavier is bored if we’re not on the road and the boys just want to play. Today they spent most of the day running up and down to and from the waterslide that the local kids told them they could go down faster if they went down on bare bums.
Homeschooling suffered a blow this evening. Tonight Lisa decided that that was it. She was not going to spend the rest of her trip nagging Léon about his homework. It’s normal to want your parents to usher you into the world and to be guided as a teenager, but there comes a point where one has to begin engaging with a sense of self and assuming an existence in the world. The cracks are appearing but there is hope that the cracks will let the light or water in …
Sunday 4 August
We left this morning and took on a 200 metre ascent in 6kms. It seemed completely doable after the rest we’ve mounted. The ascent was a moment to meditate on the brilliance of the bicycle. With each peddle: motion, movement, advancement. Even the slowest, the most forced of revolutions takes us further. Just like parenting we hope.
We rode through gruyère, we visited the village of the ‘Modoux’ – Promasens and then eventually made our way to Vevey. The entire time we were surrounded by the majestic presence of the Alpes in the distance. The closer we got to Vevey the more the colossal scale of the Alpes dwarfed us … until we reached Le Lac Leman.
It was a steep decent that took us by the home of Charlie Chaplin. We pointed out the home where Xavier’s paternal grandparents lived and the Vevey train station where the boys’ great grandfather worked all his life.
The station was crawling with people going to La Fête des Vignerons, this once in a generation event, that has been the talk of the town and its environs, including Moudon. Lisa and Xavier had a beer in Vevey while the boys enjoyed an ice cream. Our yeast injected blood helped make the short ride to the campground one of pleasurable beauty.
The people, the music, the incredible scenery. It was a shot of ecstasy. A place where the Alps dips its toes into the turquoise waters of Lake Geneva. Where the sun paints a prismatic chiaroscuro of the powerful, silent giant in front. Accentuating the tones created by pockets of voluptuous trees in some areas, tilting the flatness of thinner pastures, amplifying escarpments, stressing wrinkles while darkening and smoothing over others. The same train we caught a few days ago breaks the gentle lapping sound of the water as it glides through the vineyards of Le Lavaux with its roots in the 11th century. Boats sail smoothly by in the rays of the setting sun and this is the background to which many enjoy an aperitif and evening meal. Everything seems slower. A sense of ease boardering on a splendid dream.
As the sun sets behind the Lavaux, the pinkish-orange snow tipped mountains are superimposed over the pale blue sky of a European summer. Thoughts drift to the ability of Ferdinand Hodler to extract the essence of this place through colour and form. The visions were not imaginary but an unveiling.
Arsène and Oreste frolicked all afternoon in the water and finished off the day by gathering ripened blackberries growing amongst the rocks that line Le Lac Leman.
Monday 5 August
There were a few tense moments last night with people deciding they were going to wake everyone up at 2:30am. Lisa had a gut full and told them where to get off. They shut up – reluctantly. This morning we rode through the World Heritage site of Le Lavaux to experience some extreme up and down hills as well as some vertiginous heights. An impressive workplace for those who tend these very old vines.
We then rode on to meet our best man and childhood friend of Xavier’s, Germain and his three kids at Mortu Plage, in between Vevey and Lausanne. We frolicked in the Lac Leman all day.
One thing has unfortunately been made very clear, the Swiss are arsehole drivers irrespective of which canton you’re in. We were descending the Lavaux and were travelling at at least 40kms down a narrow road that cars travelling in opposite directions have to share. An impatient idiot decided she was going to try and wedge between Oreste and Lisa despite the fact that she wasn’t going to be going any faster anyway. Instead of just staying on our tail. Lisa screamed out to her because she was so close. It was only at that point that she did the right thing and stayed behind us. So stupid for apparently intelligent ilk. On the way back to the campground and the very moment we got on the road, another arsehole in a fast black car came so close to us even though we were in the bike lane. The more expensive the car the stronger the right to demonstrate the privileged arrogance that accompanies a Swiss passport. So unimpressed.
It has been one of the most deeply disappointing realisations about the people in this place. The country is astoundingly beautiful yet some of its people have not yet emerged from its caves.
et la Fête…
Tuesday 6 August
The day started out hot and sultry. We made our way to Vevey train station where we met Xavier’s dad and his pleasantly sweet girlfriend, Scarlett. We made our way through the town of Vevey which has been turned into a party town. The entire city has become a place to meet, to drink, to dance, to eat, to laugh and to cry. As a once in a generation event, the significance of La Fête des Vignerons goes deep. Many in the crowd are fully conscious that this will be their last. From a certain age you come here acknowledging your mortality and to prepare for death. The younger generations, like our boys, filled with excitement for the next but bewildered by the abstract thought that they will be in their late thirties the next time they can come. Then there are those of us that are in the idol ages, not sure whether we will make it to the next one, although a sense of hope helps us overcome the finality of life for now. La Fête is very much a celebration of life, its micro and macro cycles expressed through the cultivation and pleasures of wine. It was a beautiful collective experience. Meeting people with strong family ties. This was the first Fête without the highly esteemed Andre Modoux in Vevey, yet the first for the three young Modoux brothers ushered in by their grandfather and father. It was also a reminder that Monique died just a few days after the start of the last Fête in 1999, and that again, this is the first one without her.
The temporary arena while immaculately constructed, didn’t really factor in the sizzling sun. A mind boggling oversight for Swiss design. There were elderly people in the crowd that had to leave or risk getting heatstroke. We turned our tickets into fans, had our caps on, slapped on the sun cream, had water, but it was still awfully hot and not very conducive to enjoying the performance. Then about 45 minutes in, we got lucky. One of the temporary towers blocked the sun for a good hour which made the rest of the performance bearable to watch. The costumes were fabulously designed with one set of costumes having a double function. Clever. The story line itself was pretty light on and very ‘Heidi’ like, too folkish, and the massive digital screen stage floor didn’t do anything for the daytime performances under the scorching sun. The closing scenes were very moving, particularly Le Ranz de Vaches. We know that Xavier’s dad won’t be here the next time around, nor the family friends that witnessed the relationships and people that connect us to this place.
The storm pushed us to not dwell on these thoughts for too long. It was coming fast. After the burning heat, blue green clouds came over and the wind thrust its way into the town. After our goodbyes, we headed straight into the storm. People scrambled and we got on our bikes. Xavier, Léon and Arsène went to the shopping mall to stock up on supplies for dinner. Lisa and Oreste rode straight into the storm and loved every scary moment of it. The wind pushed us back and hard but we went for it.
Dodging the swinging branches by the road side, squinting to stop our eyeballs being pelted by the rain and to make out the distance of cars in front, to to the side and behind us, while getting soaked by the massive rain drops that felt like mini hail stones. We reached the highest point of the road and felt the full thrust of the wind as we tried to move left to make our way to La Pichette camping ground. We arrived to find our tent in a not too bad state. With a few tweaks and knots here and there, we managed to stabilise it and keep all of our belongings dry. Lisa and Oreste tried to dry off in the bathrooms, while the others stayed in the tents. No way we’ll be cooking tonight. We all waited in the tent for the rain to stop so we could go to the campsite pizzeria.
The power of the thunder strikes resonate deeply beneath the earth and charge your body from deep underground. From deep beneath, the strike travels back up to the surface and through you. The crack of the thunder penetrates, expands your mind and detonates an unquantifiable universe within.
Wednesday 7 August
Shit night’s sleep. Crappy campers carrying on until 2am. At 3am a guy in a tent had a gut full off another guy who decided it was ok to walk around aimlessly pissed and pointing his flashlight into tents, waking people up, or rather, not letting them sleep. The annoyed guy jumped out of his tent and chased the guy while threatening to punch his face in. Charming. The drama continued to unfold into a strangely absurd short film when the vomiting and crying girlfriend of the guy who was having his head kicked in, couldn’t find him. It was weirdly like another performance. As Xavier noted – it’s the spectacle on the other side of La Fête des Vignerons. With all the commotion we started packing early, in between downpours and headed straight for Vevey station. Unexpectedly heading for Geneva again.
Thursday 8 August
First stage of admin completed but we can’t move until its done. We don’t want to get stuck elsewhere on our travels so have to be patient. It will probably put us back a week but we can’t risk it. Looking forward to getting out of this insanely expensive country. Thankfully we’ve got Xavier’s dad we can stay with while we wait. Hopefully tomorrow will be the last stage.
I stayed home with the boys and did work while Xavier ran around and did bike and tent repairs.
We’ve hit another wall with the home schooling. It is so hard! Particularly when mixed with the hormones – mother’s and teenagers’ – and the accompanying attitude. Anyway, it needs a total rethink but not so easy to find the best way for the trio.
Friday 9 August
Washing machine. Admin sorted. Went for a float in the Rhone river which was a similar although less powerful experience than floating in the Aare. This meant that the boys could jump in too although they were a little freaked out to begin with. This dip was followed up with another dip at the new Genève Plage. It was a hot day. 35 degrees. After getting home and a nice family dinner with Vero and crew, we all packed and went to bed as early as possible…Ready for an early departure to Schauffhausen tomorrow morning.
