Swiss Army Green~Bern, Switzerland

Bern, the capital of Switzerland. The city is a dull, green color. Almost everything. Offset with red geraniums, the staple of Suisse window boxes. I guess the greenish color is the building product, not really a stone, but colored concrete maybe......I may never know for sure.

We walked all over. Molly and I were excited to 1. get a McDonalds diet coke 2. get a Starbucks latte and 3. try a Suisse beer......a liquid diet for the day. We stopped first at Starbucks to be SHOCKED at the price of a $8 tall latte. Had to do it anyway. Beer next.....good, Mikael bought that. I am sure the beer is cheaper than coffee. Never made it to McDonalds.......oh well.

Stopped outside the Albert Einstein Museum. This is where the great physicist was living when he developed the theory of energy........E=MC squared..........where would we be without that? Huh Dad?

Didn't buy the Rolex watch I liked. $8,150 because I would have had to come home after. Didn't even eat. Too expensive. We saved up for Jutta's final meal.

She made the best dinner of veal stroganoff, brocolli and a traditional Suisse dessert with meringue, double cream and blueberries. We rolled to bed.

Grand Sex, Yodeling and Cow Bells~Gruyere

A leisurely morning. Coffee out of the espresso machine, catching up on some correspondence, waiting for the fog to lift across the lake. Molly and Mikeal go for a nice long run.

The three of us head out later to the town of Gruyere, my choice, famous for a castle and cheese. I enjoy watching Mikeal drive.......foot to the gas on the straight aways, hard break before the turns, honk if a single lane, blind curve, swear at tractors and slow drivers, king of the round abouts. We have gotten everywhere safe and sound, no tickets, no accidents. And to Gruyere, the road is narrow and windy.

The little village is so typical what I would think of for Switzerland. Red geraniums in all the window boxes, stone walkways, fountains and the quietness of a very peaceful and proper country. What I found endearing were the cows outside the village, each with a large cow bell hanging around its neck. There was actually a musical benefit of the dairy cows as they ate grass on the hillside. Now why don't they do that in Lynden? They should.........

We wandered thru the castle, took great pictures of the views. Mikael cracked his head on the low doorway into Lady Lucy's room. I believe the people were all much shorter 500 years ago. Still no bathrooms in the castles, so the Suisse were no smarter than the French.

The man who wrote the movie "Alien" is from Guyere. There is a museum and many sculptures near the castle in recognition of his contribution to Hollywood. Good grief. Such an odd combination of naked, spiny, alien creatures outside the historic castle. The only part of Alien I remember is when the creatures pop out of someone's stomach. Did anyone even like this movie?

We drove next to take the gondola up the nearby mountain for a view of the valley and the Alps. Actually, first we took a train like tram, then took the gondola. Similar to Whistler/Blackcomb, the gondola moves precariously up a steep cliffside, with sharp rocks and a very long drop. The gondola operator spoke no English and didn't respond when I asked him if it was safe. Hmmmm. Obviously, it was, as I am still writing today.........the views were totally worth it. You could see all the Suisse Alps, including Mont Blanc and Grand Sex. I, of course, had heard of Mont Blanc.

Jutta made us a dinner of pumpkin soup and raviolis. We drank a lot of wine, Molly made cookies and we discussed my favorite movie "The Sound of Music".......even being from Austria, Jutta had never heard of the movie. WHAT? We got on YouTube and played all the songs, Molly and I singing along......when Mikael came in from soccer practice, we were yodeling and he thought we had all gone crazy.

Back to Nature

Went to sleep with the cows mooing, woke up to the cows mooing.....kind of nice.

Jutta and I had breakfast together while the rest slept in. She runs down the street to bring home fresh croissants and bread to serve with cheese for breakfast. The coffee machine in the kitchen is a treat~you push in a coffee cube, put a cup under and press a button and voila! Espresso! Add lots of milk and a liquid sugar (kind of looks like Purell hand sanitizer) and the coffee is almost as good as my instant Cafe Vienna. Which, I have broke the habit of, never to turn back.

Next, we went for a "nordic" walk from the house thru nearby vineyards. Jutta uses poles, similar to ski poles, and makes long, sweeping strides, using her harms and shoulder muscles, as she walks. It is an exercise good for the upper body and back as well as the legs and cardio. Once I had the rythm, it was fun. We trekked along a rolling, paved pathway above the lake thru vineyards. The grapes had recently been harvested and you could smell the skins and seeds left over from the press, that were piled back on the vines as fertilizer. The fog was lifting, the sun shining thru and it felt great! Cold, clear, crisp, fall day.

Mikeal was our chauffeur for the day. He drove (fast, I might say) Molly, Pamela and I all over the area to viewpoints, nature trails and the grocery store! We went to a mountain top where you could actually see all three lakes from the top. We stopped at a castle in a small town, stopped to visit some distant relative who fed us hazelnut pie and tea, stopped to take pictures of stone fences and stopped to view the Alps from a magnificant point. We walked around a small lake and threw snowballs at each other, with the remnants of the seasons first snowfall. Now we must buy gloves and hats.

Jutta and Micheal and I went out to dinner that night. I wore my new "French" outfit and felt very stylish and hip in my boots:) Molly slept, trying to battle a cold, she missed out. We all ordered the specialty of the area which is a fish. Small fish. Like 4 inches. Each little fish is deboned and is a tender, almost sweet, white meat. These little fish were layed out on the plates in a pattern with maybe 20 little headless creatures, almost looking like a pasta noodle. Mikeal's fried, Jutta's in butter, mine in wine. They also served deer and other wild game. Jutta calls the deer "bambi" and the pigs "porks"....I love it.

I would go back and have the exact same thing.

Lugnorre, Switzerland~Home of Mikeal

Mikeal's mother, Jutta, picked us up at the train station. How wonderful to have a meet and great after a month of lonely arrivals and departures. Jutta speaks very good English and we talked all the way to their home and haven't stopped talking since. She is a beautiful women, my age, we even look similar, like sisters maybe.....both tall and blonde. With Molly too, Mikeal looks like a dark haired outcast.


The trip from France to Switzerland on the train was as good as it gets. The driving to their home was like a fairy tale. If you have a vision of Heidi and Switzerland, cows and rolling hills, that is exactly what we saw. Mikeal lives in an area they refer to as "The Three Lakes" and their home is perched above one of the lakes amongst vineyards, mooing cows, complete with a view of the lake and the Alps in the far background. The home is very nice, with a lovely garden and I believe they live well.


We drove first to Mikeal's soccer game to bombard him with hugs and kisses. Same handsome man, same endearing smile, same warmth as when he left Bellingham. Jutta and I watched our children interact, like siblings really, but with a nice bond of friendship and understanding.

They have one upped us at local soccer games. Mikeal is playing on the first team level in their area. They serve wine and beer.......and......they had a wonderful, autumn soup for everyone after the cold, cold game. Cheesy, potato, vegetable, nummy soup. We really need to talk to Lindsay and Martin about changing some things at the NWSP. Some nice, old, toothless man bought me a glass of wine, as they wouldn't take my euros. Oops....didn't know the money thing switched to Francs.............thank you nice, old, toothless man.

After warming up with the soup, we all drove to Mikeal's girlfriends home. Her name is Pamela, and it was her mother's birthday. There was a small, family, birthday party. We met everybody, I don't remember anybody.....some spoke limited English, most French and some German. The area is filled with a mix of languages.......it was fun to see another family and be a part of a social scene in a foreign country, although I think they may have sighed a big sigh of relief after we left and they could carry on in the comfort of their own language and customs.

Jutta made a wonderful, traditional, suisse fondue for a late dinner. Cheese and bread and wine. It was very rich and creamy and the heaviness of the meal put us fast to sleep in an attic room, with skylights and a comfy bed. The cows mooed as I dozed off.

Seeing Eye Daughter

There is a pattern to all big cities. The train station, the old city. the river, the plaza, the outdoor cafes, Gallerie Lafayette. Lyon proved no different. A city of 450,000 or so, it reminded me of Seattle without the old part and the church in the center. Besides, it was raining.

Molly had been visiting her friend Lucie here for 3 days. She was having a blast, socializing with other teens, being treated like the guest of honor and shopping. I came in by train to meet her and carry on with our travels. I arrived early enough to explore for the day, but I was so tired from lack of sleep, I had to take a nap first. Enjoyed a semi-luxury hotel with a comfortable bed and fell promptly asleep.

I eventually got up and headed out while it was daylight to see the old city and get something to eat. Unlike the U.S., it is hard to find a meal at 4:00 in the afternoon. Most restaurants close around 3 and reopen at 7.....I had hit the "dead zone". The shops too often close. They close at night. They are closed Sundays and close early on Saturdays. I guess they don't care about customer surveys or marketing or convenience........or maybe they are just better planners......whatever, I finally found a restaurant to serve me Moussaka and Biere and then I had the energy to climb a hill of switchbacks and stairs to the church in the center of the city from which you can see everything.

I couldn't see much though. I had lost a lense in Montpellier from my glasses........I can't see distance at all without...........the city was a blur of red roofs, a ribbon of blue and buildings going on for ever.......mixed in with the rain showers, all I really got was excercise and some pictures....I will be able to see the pictures better than the real thing....I need to figure out how to get new glasses for the rest of the trip. Molly will have to be my "seeing eye daughter".

French Ducks

I delivered Molly to the train station and sent her off to Lyon to visit her friend Lucie for a few days on her own.....I could have gone, but I thought this would be a perfect opportunity for her to have some space and independence. I am on my own for three days and will meet her in Lyon, .to travel together to Switzerland.

After our shopping flurry, I realized I hadn't really walked the town much, so that was my goal after she left. And I did. I went through a local market, to the university area, through the old, windy alleys and all over before getting too tired to carry on. I wasn't sure what to do on my own that first night, so I decided I would go to a movie to practice listening to French. I bought a ticket to see "Le PetiteNicholas" which was suppose to be a funny story about a young French boy. I ended up in the wrong theatre room and saw the movie "Divorcees"......which was quite a different movie.

What I realized is, that you really don't have to understand the words in movies to understand the story. By the visualization and the tones of the voices and the actions, pretty much everything is understood. I did pick up some of the talk, but not much...,..they talk so damn fast. But I cried at the end of the movie, regardless of it being in a different language. What I would give right now for a movie in English at the Pickford though.....even French with English subtitles.

Today I chatted with a man from Denmark who came over to me at an outdoor restaurant and told me not to give money to beggers. I had just given some money to a women with a smiling baby, when she told me she needed food for the baby......The first time this happened, I gave the women an apple and some crackers. This time, all I had was money and a latte and I was definitely not giving the latte up. This man told me about the organization of all these immigrants (often from Romania) that beg and teach their children to beg, instead of work. He said he literally saw a Mercedez Benz, black and shiny, pick up a group of these beggars at the end of a work day.....he believes they are working the streets in exchange for housing and food and turn their monies over to the "beggar pimp". I must stick to giving apples and crackers or saying no. He did convince me.

This man also told me about the tram out of Montpellier that takes you to the countryside where you can walk in the forest. That sounded good to me, so I again took his advice, got on this bright orange flowered tram and went to the town of Jaque. It really wasn't countryside like I was picturing, but I made the best of it and walked all through the town, the neighborhoods, the parks, the cemetary and it was definitely refreshing and peaceful.

My favorite part was the empty park, literally no one around. A soccer field, with stands carved in the hillside and a nearby pond with ducks. How quant. Sweet. I went over to take a picture of the sun coming thru the trees on the little pond. The ducks started quacking. I thought how smart they are to send out their warnings to all the other creatures that a stranger was among the hood. They kept quacking, almost to the point of being hoarse. I got close to the pond, they all swam towards me quacking and squaking and making a fuss, thinking, maybe, I had bread.....they were so loud and abnoxious I turned and walked away. It was then I realized they were "French" ducks, unlike the ducks back home.

These "French" ducks were loud, rude and abrasive. They only wanted what they wanted and they wanted it NOW. A distinct similarity to the reputation of the French people.

Montpellier, France~the curse

We taxied in to Montpellier and randomly searched for a cheap hotel near the train station. Found one, cheap, yes, heat no, water pressure no, third floor yes, free wifi yes. After whining a bit, the receptionist carried my bag up for me.........

Great location, right close to the center of the historical part of the city. Plenty of restaurants, shopping, people watching and more old architecture......something had clicked in Palavas Les Flots.....boredom maybe. The shopping bug attacked both Molly and I at the same time. So, we headed out shopping.

We have absolutely no room in our packs. Molly is even in more trouble than me and I am carrying all the hardware and bathroom stuff.......she way overpacked......thus, my justification for being able to buy something new. For the girls back home, the Parisienne trend is back to leggings, boots and long shirts, dresses or skirts over top........blousy, uneven hems, drab colors, and tons of scarfs. I have always loved scarves anyways, but now I think it is attributable to my prior life as a french aristocrat wanna be. Regardless, I transformed at least one of my ragged looks to a new, fresh me. Leggings, boots and a blousy, drab colored dress and scarf. As my french gets better, I will definitely blend in more. Molly is now wearing tight, straight legged black jeans and a belt! The boots are coming and we are still searching.

Molly and I are great shoppers together. I have either taught her well, or cursed her with a terrible habit.