Saturday I went with Chris to Thun, which is below Interlaken. As the name suggests, Interlaken sits between two gorgeous Swiss lakes; Thun sits below the lower lake. We took a pair of the free McDonalds bikes which are present in almost every Swiss city, and rode these heavy beasts from Thun to Interlaken. The ride was amazingly gorgeous, and would have been trivial if the bikes had weighed less than we, or if their axles had ever seen grease. From Interlaken, we rode back to Thun along the other side of the lake.
I'm sure there was more in Interlaken to see, but nothing could possibly compare to the views overlooking the blue lake on the ride from Thun to Interlaken (clockwise, if you want to follow my footsteps) winding up the mountain ridge. The ride was also punctuated by sheer waterfalls down the mountainside on our left, which quickly roared into existence, but were hushed quickly by the trees as we passed. We also rode through one short tunnel cut into the rock which was covered inside with yellow wires leading to a large metal box. This is apparently setup so the Swiss Army can quickly add dynamite to blast the pass in case of war. 
On returning to Thun, Chris and I walked again along the river we had traversed earlier that day. With the sun setting against the wooden bridge, and really ridiculously old structure things, it was a gorgeous evening. We returned to the spot where earlier in the day we had seen a submerged bicycle in the crystal clear glacial waters. And Chris photographed me fishing it out of the water. Yes, ladies, those are my cold thighs covered in water fresh enough to drink, heaving a bicycle out of the very water which still befouls it today. The bicycle was a bit slimy, can be set to have either too much or too little rear brake, has a front brake that doubles as horn, dented lower frame, no seat, and it used to have handlebars which steered somewhat independently of the front wheel. But the last part is fixed as of this morning! The train ride was quite exciting, as I had to periodically leave my game of go-fish with Chris to prop the bicycle back up, and wipe up the new puddle of fish-bait scented muck which had oozed onto the floor since my last mopping. The bike is now parked at the Fribourg train station, with a small lock connecting a link of the chain to a spoke of the rear wheel. All you need in Switzerland to prevent bike theft is to make the theft slightly inconvenient.
On Sunday I went with Chris to walk around Fribourg. This was a bad idea, since I woke up with very relaxed muscles at the ripe hour of 2pm. I remember little except dizziness and a desire to have some food to ease the gnawing of the morning's muscle relaxant against my stomach. I am reminded by one of my photos that we were able to enter a small church at the top of the city, adorned inside with more riches than should be possible for a church that seats only 35 people when packed full. On one wall of the church were many marble plaques which said "merci" for the miracles granted. Curiously, one plaque hung outside the protective barrier read "spacibo." Apparently even Russians are entitled to miracles.
Today I woke up at noon, and resolved to quit the muscle relaxants before I miss another beautiful Swiss dawn. I'll know tomorrow whether this was a mistake because the next thing I did was go to the rock wall. As I have said before, the wall here in Fribourg is amazing. I believe that part of the challenge comes from the heat this time of year, which leaves my hands drenched in sweat, and the lack of any regular cleaning to remove the chalk which builds in the best parts of the best holds. The climbing partners I have met here have been incredibly hospitable, and also very patient teachers; though I often had to stop mid-climb and rest my arms and re-chalk for several minutes, they always insisted that I climb once for every climb they took, and they always insisted that I rest and continue rather than quit mid-course. Their hospitality is the same as the hospitality I've seen among climbers in Alabama and Texas, a result of the intense requirements for trust, but this bond seems even stronger in Switzerland where climbing is a more regular part of life, and where the climbs can get much more dangerous.
I am now in Bern, waiting by a movie theater for several friends to meet me to see Ocean's 13. It's a pretty city under heavy construction, and I am sad to say for all my friends who will ask for my sundial pictures that I cannot find the sundial here which reports the time of day alongside the day of the year. If only I had the presence of mind to photograph it when I first saw it, since it was the very first sundial I saw, which piqued my interest in the subject and has led to all my other sundial photographs.
No comments:
Post a Comment