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.

I love the tree in the middle of the lake, mostly because I just don't get it.

That's basically all I have to say about Montreux, so I'll leave you with a bunch of other shots....

This is a panorama from two pictures, stitched together later (but before my computer meltdown)

Montreux had all these weird plant people set up.

Recent events in England

Just to confuse your conception time, I'm going to give a quick rundown of my past week, and then hopefully give another post describing my big trip.

This week was the start of final exams at Royal Holloway. These are the tests for which students have apparently been studying for a grand total of 4, now 4+ weeks. I had a final on Wednesday and a final on Friday. I started studying... last weekend? With my computer issues and all, it was late. And for the Friday test I started studying on Thursday. And you know what? The tests didn't seem all that bad. They are only two essay questions and two hours long. And you get to choose the two essays from a choice of 9-10. Maybe I'll be terribly surprised by the grades, but hopefully not.

In other news, I went to Brighton yesterday. Arcadia was leading a "day trip" that I had paid for way back in January when I got to England. So I was up at 6 am to leave my room at 7, catch a train at 7:23, to get into London to catch the Arcadia coach at 9. It was a hassle to say the least. Then the bus left late and the ride took way too long (like over two hours), getting us to Brighton around 11:30. Then we were told we had to be back on the bus to return at 3:50! My reaction... nope. My friend Leah from Royal Holloway had taken a train out to Brighton to meet us and spend the day, so I just ditched Arcadia and bought a train ticket home, letting me stay until I wanted to go home.

In Brighton there is not a ton to do. I got to see the Royal Pavilion because the Arcadia trip included admission there, but I wasn't really into it. After traveling in Europe for a period of time, it grows increasingly difficult to be impressed by senseless displays of wealth. Although it did have a really sweet chandelier. It was a dragon... never mind, you'd have to see it to appreciate it. Unfortunately pictures weren't allowed. Sorry. I guess another thing to note about the Royal Pavilion is that it does not match England in any way, shape or form. Apparently built by George IV, before he was king, it looks like the Taj Mahal and the inside is decorated with things like dragons and other not-England things. Very strange.

(This is the spot where I was planning on inserting a couple pictures I took while in Brighton, but I can not remove them from my camera. Do not, and I repeat, do not, ever purchase a Kodak camera. The software, and even the hardware, functioned shakily with my laptop before my virus. Now that I've had to start over again... I can neither get my pictures off the camera by using Kodak Easyshare, nor by going directly to the camera via My Computer... grrrrrr. There is a reason they are about to fold. Sorry George Eastman.)

After the pavilion we spent the day wandering the beach (pebble, not sand) exploring as much of the pier as we dared, and chowing down on overpriced hot dogs and chips. I suppose Brighton also offers the opportunity to do various arcade games and amusement rides on the pier, but that wasn't really what we wanted/could afford to do, so we just wandered. But it was pleasant, and the weather was beautiful. And the ride back to Egham on the train? Less than half the time than if I had gone back with Arcadia ;-)

Finally: today (apologies for the stream of consciousness that dominates my posts, by the way). After months and months of waiting, I heard from the senior citizen center that I had passed my background check while I was traveling. This is because despite approaching them all the way back in January they were running a background check on me that included snail mailing forms and questions to my references... in the United States. Ugh. In any case, after passing my background check I went in to volunteer for the first time today. They apparently never get volunteers, and didn't really know what to do with me. So they said to just walk around and chat with the residents. The residents are generally in great need of care. Many suffer from various degrees of dimentia, many have trouble walking, that sort of thing. I went on a walk outside with one woman who was completely mobile and quite talkative, but did not have any grasp on the current reality. Some of her sentences would start on one topic and apparently change two or three times by the end, referring to things that weren't there and people I didn't know. At first it was difficult to converse with her, but then it actually became really easy because you could say absolutely anything and get a heartfelt and enthusiastic reply!

A lot of it was obviously very sad, and I wish I could help more, but hopefully just showing an interest and being around to talk to helps in some small way.

In this part of Switzerland, everone speaks...

I have my computer back again after its lobotomy, and I'm ready to tell you a little more about traveling in Europe. But how do you tell people about three whole weeks in a blog? I can't do it. So instead I'm going to tell you bits and pieces, in no particular order. We'll start with Zermatt.

It is an interesting little place. It is full of people in synthetic pants and plastic boots. Keep reading. I went because my guidebook said it was scenic, lying beneath the epic Matterhorn, and had many outdoorsy things to do, from hiking to biking, and obviously skiing. It seemed like the perfect place to get away from cities after spending two weeks in Naples, Florence, Rome and Geneva. So from Geneva I hopped on a train that took me to Visp, and in Visp I boarded a train for Zermatt. The train to Zermatt went up. And up. And up. I'd never been on a train that went so far up. I'm pretty sure I've been on steeper inclines in cars, but I can't remember ever feeling an incline while riding a train. But to get to Zermatt, the train goes up.


Getting of the train in Zermatt was weird. For starters, it was much bigger than I expected. I had envisioned some sort of rustic, outdoorsy village with cabins and not much else. The fact that Zermatt made it into my Western Europe guidebook should have clued me into the fact that there would be plenty of civilization. Emerging from the train station there were a ton of people milling about (I got there around 4-ish in the afternoon) on the street in the bright sunlight. They were all wearing synthetic pants. To get to my hostel I had to walk down the main street. There was store after store selling Swiss Army knives and watches and things of that touristy nature. There was the obligatory McDonalds, because as much as the US loves McDonalds, I think Switzerland has at least one McDonalds per each nuclear family unit.

I may as well make another observation about the Swiss here, that is of particular importance to this story. They have no language. Or, the alternative is that they have every language. I spent the whole time having no idea what to say! In Geneva things were clearly French (or some variety of it) for the majority, but everyone also spoke excellent English... and Swahili for all I know. And I mean everyone. Even the people doing the menial tasks at restaurants. I think everyone in Switzerland is capable of carving their own modern day Rosetta stone. It is amazing. Keep this in mind.


As I walked towards my hostel I noted something else. No cars. Only these weird car-cart hybrid things, all of them electric. The only gasoline powered vehicle in the entire town was the ambulance that wandered the streets day after day, presumably bored and with nothing better to do (I literally saw it everywhere). It was something I would have found particularly novel if I had not already read that this would be the case in my guidebook. I think there is something to be said for going somewhere and just being surprised (which, by the way, is what I will be doing in Brighton tomorrow).


I won't give a detailed rundown of the entire 2 1/2 days I spent in Zermatt, because it was mostly spent walking or sitting in the sun and reading. Instead I'm going to hit you with a stream on consciousness of memories.... ready? I ate something called "Paniertes Schweinsschnitzel mit Pommes Frites" which is a really long way to say breaded pork with fries. I saw a ginormous St. Bernard, which made me happy because it fulfilled a stereotype. I discovered there wasn't half the hiking I expected, but I was okay with that. Zermatt is filled with thousands of skiers. Everyone skis, without exception, period. There was probably one person from every country in the world in Zermatt. My hostel had a "take a book, leave a book." I took a book and finished it while I was there. It was really bad, but it was the only one in English, and somehow was mildly addicting. I saw a parachutist/glider guy land. I saw a helicopter take off. I found a sign while hiking pointing the way to "Moos," and I thought of Monty Python. Zermatt may have been bigger than I thought it would be, but I still walked every inch of it. I couldn't find the fire house, sorry Mama and Papa G. But it did have a Remax. Skiers have funny raccoon tans, and they all wear synthetic pants and plastic ski boots.

And finally, the important point I wanted to make about language. Switzerland is inherently confused about what to speak to begin with, so they just speak everything. This is particularly important in Zermatt because in my hostel alone there were people from Spain, the US, China and Italy. Take ten people off the street at random and you will find 9 different languages are spoken. The tenth person doesn't have an official language because they got really dehydrated while skiing one day, and now only speak "dude-speak." So it is helpful to be multilingual. But with all these people from various places in one spot, it is amazing to note that there are two universals tying them all together. Skiing, and synthetic pants for skiing. Seriously, as you walk down the street you are almost driven to madness by the "swish, swish, swish" of people going to and from the ski lifts. So in the end to be honest, even though everyone in Zermatt is from a different part of the world, you really don't need to be multilingual. You only need to know one language in Zermatt, in fact. Because in this part of Switzerland, everyone speaks Swish.

Why the delay?

This is just a quick update from my friend Audrey's computer.  My intention, almost a week ago, was to give a slightly more in-depth look at my three weeks of travel on the continent, but then my computer caught swine flu.  It's the only reasonable explanation, really.  After several days of nursing it, it failed to return to health.  So upon the advice of several experienced officials I took it to get a lobotomy.  It is now almost 5 days later and I have yet to see my computer again.  So... for now there is a general hiatus on large-scale computer projects.  Luckily things like pictures, and at least most of my music are salvageable, but I'm not sure I'll believe that until I see a functioning computer.  Also luckily, I have no papers to write, or partially completed work on the computer.  Fact is I don't really need a computer at all... but I dare you to live in a single room on a college campus with no classes and only four tests in a 2-month period, and to do it without a computer.

So, final in the morning, and another Friday, neither of which have seen much preparation.  Off to try to focus (did you know focusing is impossible to do when generally the work you have to do is irrelevant and non-stimulating?).

One more Lamar

Whoops! I missed this last picture. Of Lamar at the Picasso museum, giving his best Picasso face.

The Travels of Lamar

Over the past three weeks, Lamar has been many places. He forgot his camera, so he had to borrow mine. We didn't get pictures of him everywhere, but we got some!

Pompeii

Ercolano (Herculanuem)


Another shot from Herculaneum


Ponte Vecchio (Florence)


Duomo (Florence)


Giotto's Campanile (at the Duomo in Florence)


Basilica di Santa Croce (Florence, where Michelangelo and Galileo are entombed)

Piazza de Michelangelo (Florence)


Basilica Abbaziale (Florence)


The Vatican


The Colosseum


The Pantheon (Rome)

The United Nations / Former League of Nations (Geneva)

Jet D'Eau (Geneva)


Big Chess Game... Lamar won (Geneva)


The Swiss Alps and Lake Geneva/Lac Leman (Montreux)


Freddie Mercury (Montreux)


The Matterhorn (Zermatt)


Notre Dame (Paris)


Notre Dame Gargoyles (Paris)

The Pantheon (Paris)


The Eiffel Tower

Sacre Coeur (Paris)


Arc de Triomphe (Paris)

Post from the Matterhorn

Just a quick note to let people know I'm still alive. I'm currently in Zermatt, Switzerland. It is a ski resort/town in the Alps, right beneath the Matterhorn. I came expecting a general outdoorsy focus, with paths and the like for any degree of hiking. What I found were thousands of die-hard skiers. In the evening you can barely make it through the crowded streets, but during the day the town is deserted! Weird. I did manage to locate one relatively short trail that I hit this morning, and I have also walked just about every street in the town, but I'm starting to run out of places to walk to (thus this blog post). I arrived part way through the day yesterday (Monday), and leave again Thursday morning, so Zermatt was a 2.5 day stop. Turns out that was about 1.5 days too many! Oh well, live and learn I guess. Gives me a chance to read the school book I've dragged all this way.

Just to recap, thus far I have been in: Naples, Florence, Rome, Geneva, Zermatt. My next stop is Paris, and then finally back to London to begin the mad scramble to actually learn something before my exams. First, of course, I'll have to get some pictures online ;-)