As my brother was driving us to Switzerland, he kept telling us how beautiful it was and how lucky he felt to live within driving distance of it. Since it was dark by the time we crossed the border, I feigned skepticism, wondering aloud if the country actually had any mountains at all. Large sections of the sky didn’t even have stars – beautiful country indeed...
“That’s because the mountains are blocking them,” Zack insisted.
“Sure, Zack, whatever you say. I’m just not sure how your psychiatrist will feel about these ‘mountains’ when I tell him you’ve stopped taking your medication...”
“Sigh,” said Laura (not literally, but you get the idea – this is her reaction to many of my conversations with Zack, especially on very long drives).
We each had a goal for going to Switzerland. Zack, who’d already been there nine times, merely wanted to soak up more of the beautiful vistas of mountains and the charming-yet-ubiquitous chalet houses on the mountains. Laura wanted to see a large St. Bernard, preferably with a small barrel labelled ‘XXX’ on its collar. I wanted some delicious cheese. All of these expectations and more would be fulfilled before the trip was over.
Okay, so the St. Bernard didn’t have a barrel around its neck, but it was a very large dog, certainly capable of rescue missions if it didn’t look so darn sad all the time. And when we woke up the next morning, I had to admit that we really were surrounded by some pretty incredible - nay, breath-taking - cheese vendors. And mountains.
As we drove from Interlachen to the Lauderbrunnen valley, Zack popped in a CD and soon “Rocky Mountain High” was thumping through the car’s speakers. I had actually never heard the song before, and as a result I suspect it will always remind me of the Swiss Alps. I don’t know if John Denver ever went to Switzerland, but I think he would have approved.
We took a cable car up to the small mountain town of Murren, then took a hike to the even smaller mountain town of Gimmelwald, where we enjoyed a relaxing lunch staring at the humungous peaks around us, some of which extended directly into the clouds. I had some delicious cheese. It was delicious. We all thought about living in that valley for the rest of our lives. The sense of displacement from home was even greater there, since it was a lot of trouble to get there from Europe, let alone America. Eventually, we scrapped that idea and started making plans to move to Colorado and open up a bakery. Mountains are big, and they have a gravity about them that makes it hard to leave.
But of course, we did eventually. We went back to Interlachen and had some cheese fondue that couldn’t be beat. Then we got up the next morning and drove to Basel. But I will leave Laura to tell that part of the story, because again, I don’t feel I could do it justice.
Interlachen/Lauderbrunnen Metro Area Aggregate Score: 9.0/10.0. If only I spoke German...
Showing posts with label thinking positive. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thinking positive. Show all posts
Monday, March 15, 2010
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)