In Switzerland there is rarely such a thing as a short walk. Usually lasting about an hour at the least and usually including a hill or climb of some sort, this is what the Swiss mean when they say, 'Let us go on a short walk.' And so my father, Hannah, and I set out with the Roman ruins called Wartau in mind as our destination, which wasn't "too" far away. I had walked to Wartau from a different starting point a few years ago and it had ended up being about a 3 hour trip, so I was not sure what this walk entailed, nor if we would really get to Wartau or not from where we began.
We started out with umbrellas in hand because it had been raining on and off for a while that morning, and it did sprinkle a little at first, but then the sun came out and the weather was pleasant for a walk. We continued through the town and found a path that went in the direction of the ruins, passing fields, farms, houses and wild flowers. At one point we saw a bench tucked away a little bit off the path, all of us commenting on how it would be the perfect place to sit with a significant other and rest a spell.
On we trekked, occasionally stopping to take pictures of the beautiful scenery around us. We walked through a town where my grandparents had gone to school and sat to rest for a moment. Then determining to go on, we walked further, the sun still shining. At one point after this town, we came to a fork in the "Wanderweg" and decided to pick the path to the right, which led us on to an adventure that we would not have expereinced had we picked the path to the left.
The path to the right took us along a main road for a while and as we went around the bend in the road we saw Wartau sitting on top of the hill beckoning us to find a way to its stone walls, but we could not see a clear path to its shelter. My dad decided to cross a field (with no path through it, mind you) and see if there was a path across the bridge and behind a hedge of trees. After a few minutes he whistled to let us know we should follow him. Hannah and I hurriedly walked through the field with a bit of fear that we might be caught by a farmer, quickly crossed the bridge, and finally found my dad among some farm houses. We followed a path, but it started to lead away from our intended destination, so we doubled back and my dad boldly went up to ask some farmers if we could walk through their fields to get to what looked like the path leading to the ruins. They agreed and as we walked through the field, I thought "only in Switzerland," which may or may not be true.
We reached a path after trekking through the field. To the left the path went down the hill, and to the right it led to a vineyard - still no direct path to the ruins, although we were getting closer. We thought we saw a path leading to the ruins above the vineyard, so we decided to turn right and go through the vineyard, hoping that it was owned by the farmers who so graciously let us walk through their field. Going through the gate that led into the vineyard, we ascended the hill, weaving though the rows and rows of growing grapes, getting closer to Wartau and hoping we would reach the path that would lead us there. At the top we thought we might have to jump the electric fence, but one of us spotted an upper gate, through which we could exit.
This led us to another path, again to the left the path leading down aways and to the right leading upward, the Wartau looming above us. We turned again to the right, but soon that path led downward to the next town. So we stopped, took some pictures with the Wartau above us and essentially said this was as far a we could get because we could not find the direct path up to the ruins and so decided to head home at that point. It was discouraging to have come so close and yet not have reached our intended destination.
We walked sadly down the path, walking down the path to the left of the vineyard, all of the sudden coming upon the true path up the hill to Wartau. It cheered us considerably, and after about five minutes more we finally made it to the Roman ruins with quite an adventure behind us and a beautiful view of the valley before us. It felt so good to have reached the ruins after all the wrong turns leading to the wrong paths. We took lots of pictures inside the stone ruins, observing the number of floors that would have been in this fortress from the holes where the beams of wood once held the floors together and made this place liveable. Outside, the view was beautiful. It had snowed on the tops of the mountains surrounding this valley and some of the clouds were still lazily resting on the peaks. The valley below was green and peaceful.
After a bit of rest from the hour and a half walk to get to the ruins, we started home, this time taking a more direct route down the hill passing though the town near Wartau. We decided to take another route home (following some signs that pointed in the direction of our town). At this point it started to sprinkle again, so we were again glad to have brought our umbrellas and thankful for the sun that had been with us up until this point. As we journeyed home, we came upon the spot where we had encountered the fork in the road, this time coming from what would have been the path to the left. We realized that had we taken the path to the left we would have found Wartau much faster, but without the adventure of trekking through fields and vineyards. By the time we got back, my legs were tired and I was ready to sit for a while, but I sure would not trade the experience of yet another Swiss “walk” and the adventure of trying to get somewhere without any directions.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Family Reunion
The morning started with a beautiful two hour drive to Schaffhausen with the whole lot of us in two cars. The scenery was full of luscious green fields, mountains whose tops were still snow laden, and quaint wooden houses and barns. Almost the whole family (minus two cousins) gathered together first at a restaurant, where we ate a great brunch. The spread was incredible: fruit and birchermüsli; cheese, smoked salmon, salami, baloney, and bread; bacon, hash browns (Swiss style), and made-to-order omelets; and for “dessert” we had chocolate mousse, caramel pudding, and strawberry yogurt. The food was amazing and reconnecting with my cousins and aunts and uncles was wonderful too.
After the brunch, half of the clan drove to my uncle’s house, while the other half of us trekked through the city to the house – going through a fortress called Mounot. We climbed up to the top of the fortress and saw an excellent view of the city and the Rhein below. I love the leisure of being able to walk 15 or 20 minutes through a beautiful Swiss city to get to where we need to go. It truly is a pleasure that I miss when I am in the States. At my uncle’s house we sat around catching up with each other for a while and eating more dessert.
A couple cousins, my sister, and I sang a jazzy Happy Birthday song for my grandmother (who turned 80) accompanied by the ukulele. Hannah then yodeled, which started the Schmidt brothers and sisters singing through different yodels with their mother (my grandmother). It was so special to hear them sing together as a family and join in with a few songs that I knew. We then watched a slide show that my dad put together of old photos coming into the present. Hearing the siblings talk about the funny stories and memories that the pictures evoked was great to sit back and watch. It was so relaxing to be with the family and I thoroughly enjoyed the company and reconnecting with my cousins again – making plans to see some of them again before I leave. I’m sad that I cannot stay longer, but such is life… It does prompt me to think about when I can come back for longer, though...
After the brunch, half of the clan drove to my uncle’s house, while the other half of us trekked through the city to the house – going through a fortress called Mounot. We climbed up to the top of the fortress and saw an excellent view of the city and the Rhein below. I love the leisure of being able to walk 15 or 20 minutes through a beautiful Swiss city to get to where we need to go. It truly is a pleasure that I miss when I am in the States. At my uncle’s house we sat around catching up with each other for a while and eating more dessert.
A couple cousins, my sister, and I sang a jazzy Happy Birthday song for my grandmother (who turned 80) accompanied by the ukulele. Hannah then yodeled, which started the Schmidt brothers and sisters singing through different yodels with their mother (my grandmother). It was so special to hear them sing together as a family and join in with a few songs that I knew. We then watched a slide show that my dad put together of old photos coming into the present. Hearing the siblings talk about the funny stories and memories that the pictures evoked was great to sit back and watch. It was so relaxing to be with the family and I thoroughly enjoyed the company and reconnecting with my cousins again – making plans to see some of them again before I leave. I’m sad that I cannot stay longer, but such is life… It does prompt me to think about when I can come back for longer, though...
Saturday, June 20, 2009
A Little Night Music and a Little Morning Music
Last night my dad and I went on the train to Zürich. We traveled next to an older gentleman and his sister. My dad talked with the older gentleman (he had immigrated to Canada and become a farmer and was visiting his sister and other relatives back in Switzerland) while I tried to finish knitting the shawl for my grandmother's birthday on Sunday. It was a peaceful ride and good to be back on European trains - with their comfortable seats and the beautiful scenery... This is a trip I have taken many a time before, so the memories of many pleasant trips filled my mind.
In the busy Zürich station we ate a the best bratwurst and servela with bread (a tradition - at least once I eat this when I am in Switzerland - and very often in the Zürich train station). Watching the youth with their painted hair and unique clothing hang out and the business people walk by in their suits in the hustle and bustle of the old train station gave me a sense of the old and the new meeting together in an odd fashion. I also was saddened by the lack of hope and direction in the youth that I saw.
After our supper, Dad and I braved the rain, walking down the river to the church where the Chagale stain glass windows reside, to listen to a concert. My aunt was in the choir that performed Mozart's "Requiem." The music was beautiful and the setting in the old cathederal was ideal. Seeing my aunt perform in the choir reminded me of the great musical heritage that comes before me. It was lovely to hear this night music.
This morning for breakfast (and at almost every meal here) we sang a prayer in a round. These songs were taught to my father and his siblings by his parents; and his siblings and he, in turn, taught their children these prayers, so continuing the tradition of music and prayer in the family. They are wonderful songs proclaiming God's faithfulness in His creation and in His provision every morning. I always enjoy these times of heralding in the morning with these songs.
Another treat this morning was that my sister and I heard alpine horns being played and we followed the sound around the town and found four men playing alpine horns on the street for someone's birthday. I love hearing random live morning music. It truly is a wonder to stay in this country and experience the unique music created here.
In the busy Zürich station we ate a the best bratwurst and servela with bread (a tradition - at least once I eat this when I am in Switzerland - and very often in the Zürich train station). Watching the youth with their painted hair and unique clothing hang out and the business people walk by in their suits in the hustle and bustle of the old train station gave me a sense of the old and the new meeting together in an odd fashion. I also was saddened by the lack of hope and direction in the youth that I saw.
After our supper, Dad and I braved the rain, walking down the river to the church where the Chagale stain glass windows reside, to listen to a concert. My aunt was in the choir that performed Mozart's "Requiem." The music was beautiful and the setting in the old cathederal was ideal. Seeing my aunt perform in the choir reminded me of the great musical heritage that comes before me. It was lovely to hear this night music.
This morning for breakfast (and at almost every meal here) we sang a prayer in a round. These songs were taught to my father and his siblings by his parents; and his siblings and he, in turn, taught their children these prayers, so continuing the tradition of music and prayer in the family. They are wonderful songs proclaiming God's faithfulness in His creation and in His provision every morning. I always enjoy these times of heralding in the morning with these songs.
Another treat this morning was that my sister and I heard alpine horns being played and we followed the sound around the town and found four men playing alpine horns on the street for someone's birthday. I love hearing random live morning music. It truly is a wonder to stay in this country and experience the unique music created here.
Friday, June 19, 2009
The Wind in der Schweiz
The wind in Switzerland is calm and cool at times, and at others is wild and rainy like last night. This morning the farmers put "fresh" fertilizer on the fields, so the wind is carrying these "fresh" wafts through the open windows of the house. Ahhh, as "fresh" as it is, I really do find some comfort in the familiar smell of the fields of Switzerland.
My time here thus far has been relaxing. Spending time with my grandparents who are definitely aging, going on walks around the town, sitting in the sun eating cherries picked off my grandfather's cherry tree (the best ever), hanging up laundry in the sun to have it dry in mere hours (smelling so fresh), eating excellent Swiss bread and cheese, going to a Bible study with many international women at the International Church nearby, playing volleyball with some of Hannah's friends, playing hide-and-seek with my four year old cousin, talking with my aunt, waking up to the sounds of birds and church bells, opening the window to the view of the green valley and the mountains looming above, knitting while Hannah reads to me, and taking time to walk and talk with my dad.
Life is so different here. Much more laid back and relaxed, yet almost set in the old Swiss ways. From the architecture to the luscious greenery found everywhere; from the laid back way people eat their meals to the friendly way people greet as we pass each other on our walks; from the tiny cars everyone drives to the decorations in the houses; and from the fresh food picked every day in the garden to old fashioned ways of farming seen around this town, I love living in this culture, soaking up the freshness of every day, breathing in the wonderful fresh air all around, and relaxing in the comfort of family and familiarity.
My time here thus far has been relaxing. Spending time with my grandparents who are definitely aging, going on walks around the town, sitting in the sun eating cherries picked off my grandfather's cherry tree (the best ever), hanging up laundry in the sun to have it dry in mere hours (smelling so fresh), eating excellent Swiss bread and cheese, going to a Bible study with many international women at the International Church nearby, playing volleyball with some of Hannah's friends, playing hide-and-seek with my four year old cousin, talking with my aunt, waking up to the sounds of birds and church bells, opening the window to the view of the green valley and the mountains looming above, knitting while Hannah reads to me, and taking time to walk and talk with my dad.
Life is so different here. Much more laid back and relaxed, yet almost set in the old Swiss ways. From the architecture to the luscious greenery found everywhere; from the laid back way people eat their meals to the friendly way people greet as we pass each other on our walks; from the tiny cars everyone drives to the decorations in the houses; and from the fresh food picked every day in the garden to old fashioned ways of farming seen around this town, I love living in this culture, soaking up the freshness of every day, breathing in the wonderful fresh air all around, and relaxing in the comfort of family and familiarity.
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