All things must pass
In theory, the focus of this blog isn't "what I did while my parents were in town," but rather "let's make fun of Switzerland," so with that in mind, this will (for the most part) be my last post about my parents visit. Fortunately, it involves a good deal of Swiss oddity, so I think everyone will be happy.
Let's see, last we left off we were watching community musical theater in Rennes. After that, we drove down to the Loire Valley, checked out a troglodyte community, went to a couple of castles, and saw a huge swath of the French countryside. Our final stop in France was the former Roman town of Autun. If you are in Burgundy, I recommend stopping in Autun: it's a neat little town which still has it's original Roman wall, an awesome Romanesque cathedral, and ruins of an impressive Roman temple outside the walls. Although the most famous part of the cathedral -- the tympanum -- was closed off for restoration, you could still see the awesome capitals from the original columns in the front.
Fig. 1: This one goes out to all my Harry Potter peeps. Y'all know who you are.
Fig. 2: A capital from the cathedral in Autun depicting Cain slaying Abel. OK bible experts, I bet you didn't know that Cain did it by shooting Abel with an arrow! In the neck!!
Autun was our last night in France, so after nine nights en France, we finally headed back to the welcoming bosom of Switzerland. At this point, we only had a couple days before my parents had to head back to the states, and I felt as if they hadn't really had the true Swiss experience. As any real Swiss person could tell you, if you want to see the real Switzerland, you have to go to Valais.
The canton of Valais forms most of the southern border of Switzerland with France and Italy. The name comes from the French word vallée and, indeed, Valais consists largely of the impressively large Rhone River valley which carves its way through the Alps. Although there are a couple of fairly large town s on the valley floor, most of Valais consists of small towns tucked way up into small alpine valleys. Due to the weather, geography, and history, these villages tended to be quite isolated and the people of Valais are therefore known for their rugged, independent nature. Serge described it to me as "like the Texas of Switzerland," which I don't think is entirely true or false. At any rate, it is one of the most scenic parts of the whole (quite scenic) country and it is filled to the brim with traditional, Swissy things. The most traditional and most Swissy of which is, without a doubt, fighting cows.
Fighting, yes. They ram up against each other and butt horns until one gives. Cows, yes. The female of the species is more deadly than the male, or at least more into butting horns. Known as Le Combat des Reines (the combat of the queens), every year the cow herders of Valais bring their strongest Herens cows together to determine which will be crowned La Reine des Reines. Not at all bloody or cruel, like Spanish bullfighting, Swiss cowfighting is a much more family friendly event. The big matches are held in the spring, but during the summer, there are a series of "scrimmages" called Inalpes, in which roughly a hundred cows are put together in a large pen and allowed to challenge each other as they please. Although the top cows don't typically compete in these, they are organized so that cow herders can determine which of their queens might have some potential for the next year's big event. Fortunately for my parents, an inalpe was scheduled for their final weekend in Switzerland. So, we woke up early Saturday and piled in the Skoda for a trip to Valais.
Although I didn't admit it to my parents at the time, I really had no idea exactly where this event would be held. Since it is held on a small alpine pasture, high up in the mountains, it is hard to put the location into the GPS. The internet instructions just told you to aim for a small valley near Sion and then just follow the signs from there, so that's what we did. From Sion, you take a narrow, barely 1.5 lane road up the mountains to Nendaz. From Nendaz, we took a nearly 1 lane road to Siviez, where we finally saw a sign for the Inalpe, which would be at the alpage of Tortin. From Siviez to Tortin, it was a narrow, rocky road/path up the mountains. Here is a picture of one of the nicer parts of the road, near the top:
Fig. 3: Not pictured: lots of cars parked directly on the road, traffic going in both directions. Nearly everyone else had four-wheel drive. I had a Skoda.
This picture really doesn't do it justice, but at least you get an idea of how wide it was. Normally, a road like this wouldn't have been too much of a problem for the mighty Skoda, but of course things are never that easy. As there was no real parking lot anywhere, most people just decided to leave their cars halfway on the road wherever they found a convenient spot. This meant that at many points, you had only about half a lane to drive on and your outside wheel would be going along big rocks, creek banks, mud, etc. In a couple of really idiotic attempts to park the car on the side of the road, I manage to get one (maybe two) wheels up into the air and it was only my Steve-McQueen-esque driving skills that allowed me to escape unscathed. Driving back down the mountain was even worse, as by that point there was a considerable amount of traffic going in both directions which meant a lot of stopping and backing uphill to let someone pass. Frequently, we would have to fold our rear-view mirrors in so that someone could sneak by us. I think the whole experience took about two years off of each of my parents lives in grief. Sorry, Mom and Dad.
As bad as the drive there and back was, I'm sure my parents would agree that it was worth it for the sheer thrill of seeing the majestic beauty that is the Valaisian fighting cow. Just look at their faces!
Fig. 5: As it was almost 80 degrees at sea level, I assured my Mom that she would only need a light coat. Unfortunately, it was a bit chillier at altitude than I predicted. Nanook, here, survived the cold admirably.
Let's see, last we left off we were watching community musical theater in Rennes. After that, we drove down to the Loire Valley, checked out a troglodyte community, went to a couple of castles, and saw a huge swath of the French countryside. Our final stop in France was the former Roman town of Autun. If you are in Burgundy, I recommend stopping in Autun: it's a neat little town which still has it's original Roman wall, an awesome Romanesque cathedral, and ruins of an impressive Roman temple outside the walls. Although the most famous part of the cathedral -- the tympanum -- was closed off for restoration, you could still see the awesome capitals from the original columns in the front.
Fig. 1: This one goes out to all my Harry Potter peeps. Y'all know who you are.
Fig. 2: A capital from the cathedral in Autun depicting Cain slaying Abel. OK bible experts, I bet you didn't know that Cain did it by shooting Abel with an arrow! In the neck!! Autun was our last night in France, so after nine nights en France, we finally headed back to the welcoming bosom of Switzerland. At this point, we only had a couple days before my parents had to head back to the states, and I felt as if they hadn't really had the true Swiss experience. As any real Swiss person could tell you, if you want to see the real Switzerland, you have to go to Valais.
The canton of Valais forms most of the southern border of Switzerland with France and Italy. The name comes from the French word vallée and, indeed, Valais consists largely of the impressively large Rhone River valley which carves its way through the Alps. Although there are a couple of fairly large town s on the valley floor, most of Valais consists of small towns tucked way up into small alpine valleys. Due to the weather, geography, and history, these villages tended to be quite isolated and the people of Valais are therefore known for their rugged, independent nature. Serge described it to me as "like the Texas of Switzerland," which I don't think is entirely true or false. At any rate, it is one of the most scenic parts of the whole (quite scenic) country and it is filled to the brim with traditional, Swissy things. The most traditional and most Swissy of which is, without a doubt, fighting cows.
Fighting, yes. They ram up against each other and butt horns until one gives. Cows, yes. The female of the species is more deadly than the male, or at least more into butting horns. Known as Le Combat des Reines (the combat of the queens), every year the cow herders of Valais bring their strongest Herens cows together to determine which will be crowned La Reine des Reines. Not at all bloody or cruel, like Spanish bullfighting, Swiss cowfighting is a much more family friendly event. The big matches are held in the spring, but during the summer, there are a series of "scrimmages" called Inalpes, in which roughly a hundred cows are put together in a large pen and allowed to challenge each other as they please. Although the top cows don't typically compete in these, they are organized so that cow herders can determine which of their queens might have some potential for the next year's big event. Fortunately for my parents, an inalpe was scheduled for their final weekend in Switzerland. So, we woke up early Saturday and piled in the Skoda for a trip to Valais.
Although I didn't admit it to my parents at the time, I really had no idea exactly where this event would be held. Since it is held on a small alpine pasture, high up in the mountains, it is hard to put the location into the GPS. The internet instructions just told you to aim for a small valley near Sion and then just follow the signs from there, so that's what we did. From Sion, you take a narrow, barely 1.5 lane road up the mountains to Nendaz. From Nendaz, we took a nearly 1 lane road to Siviez, where we finally saw a sign for the Inalpe, which would be at the alpage of Tortin. From Siviez to Tortin, it was a narrow, rocky road/path up the mountains. Here is a picture of one of the nicer parts of the road, near the top:
Fig. 3: Not pictured: lots of cars parked directly on the road, traffic going in both directions. Nearly everyone else had four-wheel drive. I had a Skoda.This picture really doesn't do it justice, but at least you get an idea of how wide it was. Normally, a road like this wouldn't have been too much of a problem for the mighty Skoda, but of course things are never that easy. As there was no real parking lot anywhere, most people just decided to leave their cars halfway on the road wherever they found a convenient spot. This meant that at many points, you had only about half a lane to drive on and your outside wheel would be going along big rocks, creek banks, mud, etc. In a couple of really idiotic attempts to park the car on the side of the road, I manage to get one (maybe two) wheels up into the air and it was only my Steve-McQueen-esque driving skills that allowed me to escape unscathed. Driving back down the mountain was even worse, as by that point there was a considerable amount of traffic going in both directions which meant a lot of stopping and backing uphill to let someone pass. Frequently, we would have to fold our rear-view mirrors in so that someone could sneak by us. I think the whole experience took about two years off of each of my parents lives in grief. Sorry, Mom and Dad.
As bad as the drive there and back was, I'm sure my parents would agree that it was worth it for the sheer thrill of seeing the majestic beauty that is the Valaisian fighting cow. Just look at their faces!
Fig. 4: He may not look all that happy, but deep down he's thrilled to be so close to such greatness.
Fig. 5: As it was almost 80 degrees at sea level, I assured my Mom that she would only need a light coat. Unfortunately, it was a bit chillier at altitude than I predicted. Nanook, here, survived the cold admirably.In our final days, I also took the parents to some much more conventionally Swiss things. Here's me and Dad in front of the famous "lion" statue in Lucerne, the touristing capital of Switzerland.
Fig. 6: Me and Dad in front of the famous "dying lion" sculpture in Lucerne. I don't know when it happened, but sometime a few years ago my Dad turned into a teenage Asian boy and refuses to smile for pictures. Way to look rough, Dad.
And, of course, no trip to Switzerland is complete without a visit to the man.
Fig. 7: I want to start a folk story/urban legend saying that unless you take your picture with Freddie Mercury, you'll be doomed to never see Switzerland again. Kinda like the three coins in the fountain thing, but Freddie-Mercury-based.
That's all for now. Coming soon: who knows! I'll post something when I get the urge. Odds are good that it won't be parent-related (sorry Mom and Dad).
Fig. 6: Me and Dad in front of the famous "dying lion" sculpture in Lucerne. I don't know when it happened, but sometime a few years ago my Dad turned into a teenage Asian boy and refuses to smile for pictures. Way to look rough, Dad.And, of course, no trip to Switzerland is complete without a visit to the man.
Fig. 7: I want to start a folk story/urban legend saying that unless you take your picture with Freddie Mercury, you'll be doomed to never see Switzerland again. Kinda like the three coins in the fountain thing, but Freddie-Mercury-based.That's all for now. Coming soon: who knows! I'll post something when I get the urge. Odds are good that it won't be parent-related (sorry Mom and Dad).
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