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. 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).

A visit from the man

As I may have mentioned once or twice before, my nephew -- the one and only -- came to visit me this last week. My nephew, sister, and brother-in-law were in Italy for a little bit more than a week, then on Wednesday they took the train up to Sion, where I met them with a rental car. Sion was a convenient place to meet because it is fairly close to Italy (only 3 hours from Milan by train) and it is right in the middle of Valais, which is one of the most beautiful parts of Switzerland.

Valais has been described to me as "Texas of Switzerland" by some of my colleagues, which has some truth to it. First, it is a fairly large (area-wise) canton that is not heavily populated. Second, Valaisians tend identify as Valaisians first and Swiss second. Finally, they love cows. When I visited Switzerland a few years ago, Serge took us all to Valais for an evening in a small chalet followed by a day of cow fighting, and I loved every minute of it. I wanted to recreate the experience as best I could for my sister, but as it is not cow-fighting season, I could only come close.

Fig. 1: This photo is from my trip to Switzerland in 2004. You can tell it's an old photo because my hair is far thicker and luxuriant. And, yes, those cows in the background are fighting.

We stayed at a small cabin, Gîte l'Ermitage, that had been recommended to me by a friend. I don't have any pictures of the outside, but here's a pic of me and the man kicking it inside.

Fig. 2: Alexander with his favorite Unkie. He called me "Pau-Pau."

Although Valais is notorious for having good weather with lots of sunshine (even during the winter), we hit it at a pretty awful time. There was an intense fog that made driving nearly impossible, and the temperature hovered around freezing. As my Sister et al had just arrived from sunny, relatively warm Italy, the cold weather was a real shock. They brought a "snow suit" for Alexander, but it was clear that his true Californian nature made him very uncomfortable wearing it.

Fig. 3: Me and little Nanook of the north.

I was hoping that we could hang around Valais the next day and do some "alpinism," but it was just too cold and too cloudy so we drove back to Lausanne. As there isn't a whole heck of a lot to do in Lausanne in November, we mainly just wandered around the city, checked out the public parks, and hung out at my sweet new pad. Vince took a bunch of pictures with his very nice camera and posted some on his picasa account; here are a few that I took.

Fig. 4: As there were no bathtubs in any of the hotel rooms they stayed in, this was Alexander's first real bath in a long while. Since I didn't have any bath toys for him to play with, he entertained himself by eating soap bubbles.

Fig. 5: The evidence.

Currently, I don't own a TV, radio, or much in the way of entertainment, so the only after-dinner entertainment available was a deck of "Uno" cards. A little history: I haven't played Uno in years, but my sister and I used to play all the time when we were little. Although I have often been accused of being too competitive about things like this, I should mention that Sophia's dedication to Uno runs so deep that she was caught cheating (for the first time) when she was only 4 years old. We take these things pretty seriously in our family, and even though we hadn't played in years, I knew this time would be no different. Vince, on the other hand, does not respect Uno. He protested that it was a "game for kids" and that the winner was "entirely determined by luck." He was as dust beneath our chariot wheels.

The final score sheet from the game is pictured above. First, I would like you to notice that out of 11 hands, Vince won exactly none of them. To paraphrase Spinal Tap, "How much worse could he be? and the answer is none. None more worse." If the winner were indeed determined by luck (as he claimed), the odds of him losing 11 hands in a row would be an incredible 86 to 1. As well as Vince has done (up to this point) in integrating into the greater Sangiorgio family, he really needs to step his game up if he wants to sit at the grown-ups' table again. Getting back to the score sheet, though, you'll notice that "Star" (that's Soph's Uno "handle" from way back) built up a fairly strong lead before "Paul" (that's me) snatched victory from the jaws of defeat with a stunning last-minute comeback. I don't really expect you to be impressed, but I just want you to know what your dealing with when you come play Uno in my apartment. Bottom line: when you come to Lausanne, you better bring it. The Uno deck is waiting.