Notes from London: Montreux

Ah, Montreux. Where to start. I suppose it should be somewhere near the beginning.

I was on a train, two trains actually, to transfer myself from Rome to Geneva. The two trains met in Milan, said hello, and swapped me from one to the other. The train from Milan to Geneva was a relatively long journey and it was in a style of car I had never been in before, with compartments of 8 seats (or 6 seats?) with two rows facing one another. There were four other passengers in the car with me to begin the journey. I couldn't speak to any of them because I do not speak their languages, and because one was a dog. As I said, in Switzerland everyone speaks everything, so the people likely could have spoken to me, but did not make any overt tries. Not to mean that they were unfriendly. There was a girl traveling alone who simply sat in the corner, read, and listened to music. There was also a couple, sitting across from me, only slightly older than myself. With them was a very small dog traveling in some kind of ridiculous designer handbag. The poor thing was so terribly domesticated that it seemed as if it never emerged from the handbag, and was alright with that.

I mention this couple because they taught me one of the great lessons of my trip, unknowingly. They were not talking much as they got on the train, and mostly just quietly mumbled things and pointed as they got settled down. Once the journey was underway, however, I was scoping out everyone in the car, mostly for lack of anything better to do. They were an attractive young couple, both of them good and healthy looking people. And then they spoke. And now I know that German (which I can only assume is what they were speaking) is the singlemost ugly language ever used to communicate a series of messages between human beings. Yuck. A language of gurgling saliva and horrible hacking noises. I don't hold it against this couple, who seemed nice enough. But my goodness, I hope I never have to learn and use German.

That, in effect is a very long introduction to the topic of Montreux. This couple exited the train relatively early in the journey, leaving me to nurse my horrified ears and anticipate Geneva. As the train neared Geneva mountains began to sprout up in the window. As did a big lake, Lake Geneva. And then, something magical happened. The mountains and the lake combined to create one of the most visually stunning landscapes you will ever see (or read about I suppose). The effect was amplified by the effect of the late afternoon sun coming in at an impossible angle through a sky featuring just one or two cotton candy clouds. In the words of my own esteemed generation, it was "like whoah." I wanted to take a picture, but my camera was packed somewhere in my violently stuffed backpack, and I didn't want to disturb those around me by going through such a battle again, so I contented myself with the idea that I would return to this magical land. Just as I had this thought, the train stopped at a place called Montreux.

I whipped out my guidebook and began reading about Montreux, to see how I could get back there from Geneva. It turns out that there would be some expense involved, but I decided that if there was a window of opportunity while in Geneva I would just do it. The guidebook also mentioned that the song about "Smoke on the Water" had its roots in Montreux, as its writer, while visiting, witnessed a fire and wrote about the sights that he saw. Interesting.

Fast forward a bit. Geneva was a lovely city and all, but there really didn't prove to be an immense amount of stuff to do, especially on Easter weekend. So when Easter, my last day rolled around, I made the rather safe assumption that I would have nothing much to do in Geneva, and took off for a day in Montreux. I assumed there would be even less to do in Montreux, but I was hoping the scenery could absorb me for an entire day.

Yep, scenery could absorb me for the day.

It was a day not nearly as beautiful as the day I was on the train. There was an abundance of clouds, but not too heavy, and not rain clouds. But it was not brilliantly sunny and blue. When I made it down to lakeside at Montreux I was hit with two surprises. I had expected there to be nothing open, and a limited number of people. Instead, everything was open. There were even festival-like tents set up along the shore selling candy and cheap bracelets and things, and there were plenty of people, in increasing numbers as the day progressed. The second surprise was a statue of Freddie Mercury. Huh? Apparently he had bought some sort of property or recording studio or something in Montreux when he was alive (obviously), and Montreux wanted to honor him after his death. You've already seen this picture, but just imagine walking through a scenic town along a lake with the Alps as a backdrop, in Switzerland, and stumbling upon a Freddie Mercury statue. Lamar really wanted a picture.

I wish I were rich...
Then I'd go see "We Will Rock You" in London.
But I'm sure it is too cheesy to warrant the price.

But, my day in Montreux was generally what I thought it would be. Lovely scenery, with me walking up and down the shoreline occasionally snapping photos, or sitting and watching... nothing. It was all very pleasant. When I walked far enough down the lake I came across this castle thing. I had read of its existence in my guidebook, but wasn't really interested in another castle, so I didn't pay to go in, and don't know anything about its history. But it made for some scenic photos!

My camera struggles with the white peak against
white cloud thing. So imagine this... more dramatic

The day was not without its further surprises, though. I had packed my lunch, assuming eateries would not be open for business in Montreux on Easter, but a combination of looking for something to do and being a little hungry still compelled me to search for ice cream. I returned down the lake to the crowded area with the vendors (as I had wandered away to much quieter stretches of lakeside path) and came across the most wicked awesome concert ever. And I say that as a complete lie. It was bizarre. It featured nobody playing instruments (though there were instruments behind them), some really bad recorded instrumental bits, a green beard, pink hair, and a three and a half foot singer with a dead mic. Just take a look. Uh... what?

Anyone care to explain this, especially the child?

Finally, the day was drawing to a close. I was determined to get shots of the sun setting over the mountains and the water. The obstacles were the clouds already mentioned, and the angle. Basically, if I waited for sunset in Montreux it really wasn't going to be that dramatic. So I took off down the lake to a spot I could see way in the distance that I felt would offer better views due to the curvature of the shore. Basically it was the next town down the lake from Montreux, to which I walked. Then of course I was faced with the prospect of walking back to Montreux in the dark, and an hour long train ride back to Geneva, which I really didn't want to do all that late. So I had some balancing to do. I settled for shots like this, with the sun almost setting, so that I could begin the long journey back.