Last Thoughts

Previously I have sung the praises of Zürich airport. Well, that was the arrival terminal -- the departure is another story, something of a zoo actually. Or is it that there are just too many people these days for the masses of travelers to be handled efficiently? After a $6 cup of coffee at the departure gate I boarded my flight for the US. The Swiss International flight was very pleasant. Once again the exorbitant prices in Switzerland deserve mention. A Greek salad at the restaurant down the street from my friend JJ's flat went for SF 22.50 (= $30). The same thing cost me 6 Euros in Greece ($8.50). One evening we ordered in some Chinese food. Granted, it was a lot and included two small bottles of wine, but the equivalent of $125 for mediocre Chinese take-out is something for Ripley's Believe it or Not. Ouch!!!

Just arrived at JFK airport. Every time I arrive back in the US after being abroad I am a bit ashamed. Why is everything so shabby, so badly organized, so chaotic? The flag wavers keep on telling us that this is the greatest country in the world. I have some shocking news for them. It isn't. Why can't the US be like the countries of northern Europe: clean, organized and efficient, with great social services? Because we would be living in a social democracy, where taxes are high but you get what you pay for. I recently learned that the tiny country of Estonia instituted a flat tax. They started the rate at 25% and dropped it to 17%. It takes an Estonian citizen fifteen minutes to do his/her taxes on line. Doesn't that sound wonderful? It will never happen here because of the corruption of the Congress and vested interests who would fight tooth and nail against doing something as reasonable as reforming our insane tax system.
I opted to fly into JFK and catch a connecting flight out of LaGuardia. The two airports are not that far from each other. What better way to spend the obligatory several hours layover time than in the adventure of busing from one airport to another? Besides, I grew up near LaGuardia airport and I thought it might be a bit of a nostalgic trip to see something of the old neighborhood again. As usual the roads were clogged and everything looked a bit down at the heel. We passed the former World's Fair grounds. There was an iconic structure that was kept as a symbol of that historic event. It now looks ready for the wrecking ball. Right near it was the building that used to house the skating rink we visited as kids. It, too, looks near collapse. I could not live in this city again. It is too frantic and seedy. During the brief shuttle bus ride I really came to appreciate the fact that I live in Kansas City where life is so much more pleasant and relaxed.
At LaGuardia airport the security check to the gates is so haphazard. You have to take your shoes off and walk on what appears to be a rather dirty, uncarpeted floor. Yuck! What would a Swiss citizen think of this? I am embarrassed at how shabbily things are arranged here.
It was a really long day. Maybe that is why I have been so kranky. I was ecstatic to flop into my own bed again, at long last. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity I have had on this trip, to experience so many wondrous things, and grateful for having been kept safe on my travels. I dream of the soft, gentle light of the Mediterranean.........

Lausanne

I returned to Switzerland on a flight from Athens to Geneva via Paris. Charles de Gaulle airport wouldn't win any prizes for organization or design either. The morning after I arrived back at JJ's I pulled a muscle in my lower back. That put the kabosh on any plans I had for a long promenade along the lake. And it is too bad, because the weather was glorious. I barely managed to hobble down to the supermarket on the first day. On the second I made myself walk (slowly, slowly) down to Ouchy and back. Later in the evening, feeling much better, I hiked up to the high city which is crowned by the 13th century Cathedral of Notre Dame. The light was still sufficient to take a few pics. Lausanne enjoys one of the loveliest settings of any city in the world.

Freunde des Blogs

Die Freunde des Blogs

Well folks, I'm b-a-a-a-a-a-ck! When I arrived in Lausanne on Thursday and made it to the apartment of my friend James, whom I visited last year at this time, it felt like I had only left him the day before. The journey from Kansas City to Switzerland was almost painless. Almost. There was an unspecified 'technical problem' with the trans-Atlantic portion of the flight delaying us a full two hours in Philadelphia. After they found the duct tape and re-attached the wing, or whatever they needed to do, we were on our way. I missed my connection to Geneva, of course, and had to spend some extra time in Zurich airport waiting for the next flight. It is one of the nicer airports to be stranded in, actually. It's clean, it's neat, it's Switzerland! The airline provided me with a meal voucher to take the edge off the inconvenience, and it is a good thing they did: the modest cheese sandwich I had cost $12! Yikes! Welcome to one of the most expensive countries in the world. (Today I popped into the Starbucks on the Place Saint Francois to see what a cuppa java was going for; the grande, which goes for $1.85 in the States, costs the equivalent of $6 here. I like my afternoon cup of coffee, but not that much!)
The weather has been unsettled. A thunderstorm rolled through in the early morning hours. Since Lausanne is surrounded by high mountains the thunder booms stereophonically. By mid morning the rain stopped and I was itching to go for a walk. I didn't want to undertake anything too ambitious, not knowing what the weather would do, so I opted to walk down to Ouchy. It is about a mile down to the lake from central Lausanne, where James lives. Ouchy is a separate town but it is contiguous with Lausanne. It is famous for its ritzy hotels and the lakeside promenade. The clouds cleared up a bit, revealing some of the ragged peaks on the south side of Lac Léman (which is actually in France). On the internet I had found some information about walks in Lausanne. The most interesting seemed to be the Chemin de la Vuachère, a walking path that starts in Ouchy and climbs north through residential areas into the hills, parallel to the stream of the Vuachère. The path is supposedly marked and there is a map of sorts, but it doesn't include any street names. As there is nothing more annoying than losing a hiking trail I decided not to try it. It is possible to walk on the 'sentier de la rive' (lakeside path) from Lausanne all the way to the Chateau de Chillon. It's 31 kilometers and takes eight and a half hours to complete. Could there be a more beautiful walk in the world? I continued on the sentier which winds its way between the lakeshore and the lovely villa and condo properties. The real estate may be modest in size but it is surely not modest in price (and you must be a Swiss citizen to buy property here, so don't even think of it!). The vegetation is opulent with even the occasional palm tree to be seen. The closer you get to the eastern end of the lake the more mild the climate becomes; the high mountains at the eastern end create a mirco-climate. It's almost Mediterranean. I continued on past Pully and on to the town of Lutry. This side of the lake, between Pully and Montreux, called the Lavaux, is optimal for the cultivation of the grape. You see vineyards everywhere. After two hours the weather looked threatening again. I returned to Lausanne by bus. Public transportation is marvellous here with frequent service to just about anywhere, but it is not cheap. You get what you pay for.
The photo is taken from the balcony of J.J.'s flat in the Avenue Louis-Ruchonnet. On the left is the splendid Belle Epoque central train station of Lausanne with Lake Geneva and the French Alps in the background.

And finally...

These are the last three photos: the view of Lausanne, dominated by the Gothic Cathedral (consecrated 1275), was taken at dusk; another view of the Villa Diodati looking towards Lac Léman; the last is self explanatory -- just to prove that I REALLY was there and wasn't shooting photos of some random villa!

The Furka Pass

I thought that, once I had gone through the San Gotthardo tunnel, it would be clear sailing west on the other side. Boy, was I wrong about that! The tunnel, about 15 miles long, is a major feat of engineering. Amazing. After I found the turn-off to the fabled town of Andermatt (known for high altitude skiing), I headed west again. The next surprise was having to cross the Furka Pass. If I had examined the map a little more carefully, it wouldn’t have been a surprise. The narrow road, sometimes one lane in width, ascends from a flat valley, snow-covered peaks on all sides, to an altitude of 2,400 meters. That is not only over the tree line, it’s in the range of eternal snows and glaciers. The scenery was breath-taking, but it was a harrowing experience. There was plenty of traffic going both ways: cars, busses, camping trailers and lots of motorcycles and bicycles. (Those poor guys, huffing and puffing for hours on end up those mountains! You couldn’t pay me enough to do that.) There were countless hairpin turns and blind corners. One had to be alert every second to avoid colliding with a passing motorcycle, running down a bicyclist (puff, puff), or careening off the mountain. With all this mountain driving, I am now the master of the stick shift! The drive was so nerve-wracking that I felt sick by the end of it and nearly lost my breakfast.
The descent on the other side eventually became more gradual, passing through a number of charming alpine villages, then a few larger towns like Brig. One also crosses the linguistic boundary, where French predominates. This is the valley of the Rhone, which flows west into Lake Geneva, then south, eventually emptying into the Mediterranean. This route has been the way of counquerors; Hannibal (with his elephants), Julius Caesar, Charlemange and Napolean all passed through this valley. After Sion the valley broadens and the road became a freeway again. In the mid 1980’s I taught in a summer program in the alps above Lake Geneva and I know this area very well. Soon I saw the names of the places that were familiar to me: Martigny, Les Diablerets, Aigle, Leysin. At Villeneuve the lake comes into view -- and a spectacular sight it is, dominated on the eastern end by the massive Dents du Midi and the Alpes Vallaisiens. The northern shore, the Lavaux, is covered with vineyards. Fine wines are produced here, but not enough to export, so everything is consummed locally. The landscape has a grandeur and a sweetness to it. Soon I drove passed the Chateau de Chillon, the famous lake-side castle visited by Byron and Shelley in 1816, Montreux, Vevey, and finally Lausanne, the capital of the canton of the Vaud. The city is built on the mountainside and is one of the most confusing places to get around in. Even though I know Lausanne fairly well, it took me a long time to find the Gare Centrale (the central train station). My friend, Dr. James Gordon, lives near the station. It was so good to finally arrive at my destination and greet my old friend. We hadn’t seen each other for six and a half years. It was a very warm day. In the evening thunder storms rolled in. The crash of thunder is dramatic in the mountains, but a more cacaphonous event was yet to come: this was the day of the European soccer tournament final, taking place in Vienna. It was Spain vs. Germany. Spain must have won because evey Spaniard in Lausanne came down to the Centre Ville about 10 PM, blowing horns, screaming, waving flags and making a god-awful racket. They take their football (=soccer) very serious here. It went on until midnight, then finally died down.