Aug 2008

Up for brekkie at the YHA, then over the beautifully clear river to a café for a good strong coffee. The building is in a perfect location, sittings over the dam on the river, hovering above white frothy cloud-like waters. We sat out with notepads in the sun, trying to plan some more of our journey, before walking to the centre of the city. After spying the famous fountain where an Ogre is devouring children (?), we then hired some free bikes from the station (gotta love free bikes). Not too sure where to actually go, we tried to find a large park marked on the map, but were disappointed to find it was a zoo, so instead rode along the river.

We then found the locals’ answer to cooling off on a hot day - to jump off a bridge into the fast-moving river, and pop out later on down the line. It would’ve been rude not to join the local traditional, so off to the bridge we went. It wasn’t a huge jump, but we plunged into freezing water (which is straight off the mountains), and gave ourselves a bit of a wake-up for the day. Catching our breath, we floated at speed down the river, and the exit came along damn quickly. Scrambling to get to the side, banging our limbs on the rocks below, we made it out with a few grazes.

The next stop was Gruyere (briefly back to French-speaking Switzerland), to see the famous Giger Museum, home to the works of the Alien artist. A drive towards the steep mountainous hills of the small chateau winter skiing village, the area was also a stunning sight in summer. Although quite a touristy place, the village is very small and full of sweetness, despite the dark works of Giger hidden within his previous home, smack bang in the centre. The tattooed and pierced front desk girl led us into rooms filled with meticulously detailed drawings, diagrams and models of work for the film. Upstairs, his private collection and the ‘adults only’ rooms gave a glimpse into the mind of a very dark man…

Outside was the Alien-themed bar, complete with replicas of the chairs used in the movie, which we bypassed, and headed back on the road. We didn’t buy Gruyere in Gruyere since Andrew said it would be too cheesy… muhahahha. Basel was our next destination, which we had to drive back through Bern to get to, but it wasn’t a long drive (as nothing is in Switzerland). We arrived at our couchsurfer’s house in the evening to a sign that read “Welcome Home Kiwis!” outside – a very welcoming introduction to the new city.

Daniel our host had lived in New Zealand for a few months a while ago when his father had been given a job in Christchurch, so luckily he was familiar with our accents! We were a wee bit out of the city, so had a home-cooked meal that night by Daniel, and then sat around with a bottle of wine outside. After filling us in on some of his travels, he brought out the waterpipe he’d brought back from his last trip to Istanbul, which the boys shared with him stuffed with apple-flavoured tobacco before we retreated for the night.

We left the French side, crossing the border on foot, loaded with our gear, to bus into town to collect our rental car. Collecting some picnic treats along the way, we drove to a spot around the lake where the grassy riverside became a bathing spot. Andrew was putting his camping skills to good use and fashioned a bit of a cheese knife by using the top of an iced tea bottle – such skill.

Our initial plan was to stop in Lausanne but we ran out of time, which was a bit of a pity as we’d heard the place is a great stop, but we will have to go back next time. Instead, we drove towards the capital of Switzerland - Bern, intending to stay a night and find a place when we got there. After booking a hostel from a tourism office, we drove the city in loops trying to find our hostel (so it was safe to say we got our bearings after a while). Eventually we arrived to a comfy room with three of us in a four-bedroom room, dropped our gear, and headed out to find some dinner.

It was incredibly strange to change from French-speaking Switzerland to German-speaking in an hours worth of driving. After feeling okay about the wee bit of French I knew, it was now back to square one. Standard four German couldn’t help me know, but Josh had us practising with the phrase book on the way up, and could pronounce things a hell of a lot better than I could.

We found a cool-looking Deli-style restaurant, took a table outside and ordered some drinks. Our friendly waiter pointed us in the direction of the Rose Gardens after dinner, which we caught the bus to for an amazing view of the city all lit up. People were scattered through the gardens, having a few drinks, playing petanque or out for an evening walk. Walking the city route back, we took in the well-groomed and rather quaint capital city. Houses and restaurants propped on the riverside led the way to a great street full of design shops, and we window shopped as best we could in the darkness, before retreating to our hostel beds.

After waking to lovely Gaelle arriving back from the bakery with goodies for breakfast, we said our goodbyes for the day, as they had to work, and met Andrew’s old flatmate Sarah who is living in Geneva. Strolling around the city, we stopped for coffee in an older part of Geneva and then decided to grab some lunch. Bad service (well actually a lack of any kind of service altogether) made us leave a restaurant, and we ended up getting some nibbles at a lunchbar.

We had decided to cook Gaelle and Enguerrand a meal, and had decided that the only really truly New Zealand thing we could attempt without digging up their apartment floor for a hangi was to try a pavlova, even though we knew it could likely be a flop (Eton Mess could always be a back-up…). Skipping the ultra-expensive inner city supermarkets, which did give us some ideas if nothing else, we bought some ingredients and trammed back to the border, inviting Sarah along for dinner. Josh also tried the local drink Rivella which is a cola-type drink made from cheese… don’t ask. After struggling with the pronunciation of Enguerrand’s name, Josh nicknamed him Toblerone instead, which he loved since he was being likened to yummy Swiss chocolate.

Enguerrand’s sister kindly picked us up from the border, and was keen to practise some English. Sarah was still learning French too, so a bit of half and half conversation eventuated. When the others arrived home from work, the meal was in full force, and we had even surprised ourselves with our three courses. The looks of excitement on their faces to see Blinis with blue cheese, roasted pear and walnut, or smoked salmon, cream cheese and chives made them crack open some bubbly to join it all. Josh had taken charge of the most impressive aspect - the pavlova slowly cooking in the oven, which seemed to be holding its shape. After the entrees, and a meal of fish on the bbq and salads, Sarah and Enguerrand’s sister sadly had to leave before dessert was done.

The pav had started to crack on the top, and was sinking slightly, but eventually it cooled enough to take from the oven, and was definitely an amazing first effort! It also impressed our hosts who said they’d never tried such a soft cake before, and the traditional kiwifruit and strawberry garnish topped it off. After another screening of some Flight of the Conchords, which we left with our hosts, we bid our farewells as they had early starts in the morning. Such an incredible couple and amazing hosts, we were sad to leave them behind! We also told them all about couchsurfing, and days later they joined up, keen to host more travellers. We will be forever grateful to them.

After a very early morning start, and some frantic searching for our train tickets, which had decided to place themselves under a book somehow… we made it to the train in time. With our long journey ahead since we couldn’t get the direct route, we put our Eurail pass winnings to good use. The First Class cabins aren’t all that different from the normal ride, although I guess it depends what train you get, but they are a lot less crowded.

Travelling through the Alps, we managed to stay awake most of the time to take in the stunning scenery; snow-capped mountains, churches gripping for life onto cliffs, small Swiss villages proudly flying their country flag. It was a tiresomely long day, and after our 7am start, we didn’t arrive in Geneva until after 7pm. A quick stopover in Milan for an hour left us holed up around the train station eating a picnic lunch in the burning heat, without time to venture beyond.

Andrew was flying from London to Geneva to meet us, and after a few confusing tram mix-ups, we met him along the way to Enguerrand and Gaelle’s house – friends of my sister Michelle who were kindly hosting us for two nights. When trying to buy tickets for the tram, and having problems with notes versus coins, card operated business and a line beginning to form behind us, we were given a ticket by a kind stranger with an extra she didn’t need. Another guy got a bit impatient waiting behind us, and jumped in with his card, “I’ll buy you a f***ing ticket”… which had us laughing and thanking him for his strange generosity stemmed from annoyance.

We had been given directions from Enguerrand to hope off at a certain stop and then cross the border into France. Yes, France. So we had left Nice in France that morning, been to Italy, Switzerland, and now we were heading back to France for the night. This country hopping is crazy. We expected a huge drama at the line, and with our passports ready we approached to see… well, nothing really. It is a line, and there he was standing and waving on the other side.
We drove the short distance from the border to their very stylish apartment, and met Gaelle who was in the midst of cooking Raclette for dinner – a traditional meal (which became obvious when you start tucking into hot cheese, potatoes, deli meats and pickles, and wish you’d spent a day in the slopes saving up for it). It was a very tasty meal, and although our tummies were weighed down afterwards, we still managed to fit in some Movenpick icecream – we were in Switzerland after all.

After a few drinks, we drove into Geneva towards a city carnival by the lake, and met up with one of their friends along the way. Brazilian music pulsated through the air, as hoards of dancers crammed between cocktail stands. After a very very strong and sugary round of Caipirinhas, we headed further into town, past the red light district, which is apparently now also holds a stretch of great restaurants, and in search of more drinks. After walking for a while, and realising town was pretty empty except for the festival, we admitted defeat (it was a Monday night), and headed back to their place.

After an early lunch of the fresh mozzarella (which was incredible, like layers upon layers of soft bread) and tomato salad we’d bought the things for the day before, teamed with some crusty bread from the bakery, we ventured out with foreboding showers in the air. We walked into Nice after attempting some of the hills in Villefranche, where we could look out over the huge cruise liners perched in the harbour. We arrived into Old Nice. Open markets, and narrow lanes filled with clothes, food, and the gelato store that has 96 flavours.

The Nice Jazz festival was on, and performers filled the square for the Jazz Off. We snuck in a visit to the Museum of Contemporary Art to see some of the Kline, Warhol and Christo works, and ended up trailing the most annoying family where the mother insisted on her young children posing with ridiculous gestures in front of every piece of work. This has actually since become a joke amongst the group, so you may see us with some ridiculous gestures in the future...

It was then back to Old Nice for a bit more jazz, and we were planning on having a meal there, until we scanned the noisy tourist trap. We decided to head back to Villefranche for some peace, via Parc du Chateau, for some panoramic views over the city. Happy with our choice, we had a lovely meal out in the garden of a French restaurant, and crossed off a few more local delicacies to the list of things we had wanted to try.