Schhhhweiz!!

The casual observer might think that a word like this might pass the lips of a son-in-law on the eve of a 6 week visit by his mother and father in-law...

It may also be fair game for burning ones fingers while stealing a hot piece of borewors off the grill, or when the boks knock-on in the oppositions 22.

 

Far from being expletive this expressive little word is better considered superlative for all things scenic and beautiful. I am, of course referring to Switzerland, who is known to her (German) own by this name.

As it happens, our second trip to Schweiz in 6 months was occasioned by the arrival of the in-laws for a 6 week visit! No expleting necessary on this occasion though, far from it in fact, the date has been counted down to for a good month or more by an eager wife, eager babies and, yes, me too.

We collected the weary travellers at Zurich airport, after the necessary howdoyoudos, and without any great further ado made for an old friend (of Geoffs) in the Swiss countryside.

The car was filled with a pleasant natter punctuated by the occasional yelled sentence whenever trying to communicate with the mother of all ducks in the back seat...

 

Happiness all round, we stopped in the Alps, not sure where, and if I think of it, not really important at all, could be anywhere in the region and it would look as grand. Motherduck was spouting superlatives of her own at the passing scenery.

 

We were amazed by the amount of snow still on the ground... we are only a few weeks away from the summer solstice and there's just snow everywhere.

You might say "Duh... you're in the Swiss Alps dude, what would you expect??" and you'd be partially right - but what one does expect is snow capped mountains, maybe a glacier or two, like you'd see on a postcard or a box of Swiss Chocs, but what one (at least this one...) does not expect to see is 9 feet of snow standing on the road side far from the top of anything...

With frozen lakes to match (behind the girls is a very frozen lake)!

I got a shoe-full of the powder while doing this shot... it was, well... lets settle for "refreshing"

 

And, no matter which way you turn, there is something stunning to look at - enlarge this one - its lovely

 

In the mountain pass, the temperature was in the low 20's, the masses of snow and ice melting at a heck of a pace and the rivers, big and flowing fast.

On the way to Nigel's place in Scuol (say school - sort of), coming down from the pass.

Out and about in Scuol with Nigel and the family, taking in the quaint village. Many of the houses here are old farm houses, in the neighbourhood of 4 to 5 centuries old, and are a lesson in how good we have it in the 21st century.

While the houses are built as solid as you can imagine, and surprisingly big too, and as pretty as they look, (not sure if they looked this great in the early days) they might not have been as comfy on the inside as the outsides belie. Back in the day, these were essential shelter, but not only for people...

The front door is typically set in a large domed wooden board like in the house above. Nothing too far out of the ordinary right? That feeling goes away fast enough when Nigel, our capable guide, tells of how the entire arch can be opened and a hay wagon wheeled into the now gaping doorway of the house to offload nosh for the beasites. "Well...", you may ask, "why the heck would you have feed delivered into your house...?" one would think that leaving it in a pile, or store outside would be service enough wouldn't one, whereas bringing it into the actual house is taking it a bit too far, and driving a wagon through the front door into your living room of all places really is just the last straw... (I'm ashamed to admit that there is a pun intended here...) Imagine how the carpets must have looked!

As it happens, there is perfectly good reasoning behind all of this oddness. You see, the farmers used to keep the animals in the house with them during the winters. Pause for dramatic effect
That's right, in the house. Not in the living room itself you understand, that would have been impractical, what with trying to watch the telly and Bessie chewing her cud in the line of vision.

European winters are exciting enough with central heating and all the other mod cons I've spoken about in previous blogs, but for those of African origin such as we, there are still a few things to get used to...

One example I will mention briefly here is the need for space and fresh air... On any given day one would prefer not to live on top of (literally) your own livestock, one would prefer them out in the kraal, yes it is a drag having to get up and shoot the lion, leopard, hyena and jackals that pester the animals at night, but you'd get used to it. And after a few of their cohorts get shot, the other predators would probably get the message that oubaas means business when he gets up with his rifle and would leave the herd alone.
Ok, in Europe, generally space is not something you commonly get, as in this case where your livestock spends the winter mooing in the basement. Secondly, during an African winter, when it's cold you put on a jersey or a coat, throw an extra blanket on the cot and stoke the fire. In Europe, you dress up in everything you own, sleep under very warm bedclothes and, because you don't have distributed heating systems yet, you make one fire and make the most of it. The other thing you do is make use of the body heat of the animals a foot below your feet in the basement. Through the gaps in the wooden floor boards a steady flow of warmth would rise up into the house, the living room in this case and ease, ever so slightly, the terrible cold of winter. But this blessing, as I'm sure you're guessing comes as a package deal with some other stuff. Cows, pigs and sheep don't save up a big poo or pee, dash out of the house like fido or fluffy, go to potty by the tree, and zoom back into the house. They unceremoniously dump the whole lot right where the location and mood happens to find them. When that location is a foot under your living room floorboards, then you can bet that body heat is not the only thing that's going to be rising up through the gaps in the floor.

I'm not sure if I mentioned that it gets really cold in winter... when it's cold like that, and you open the window, it gets even colder, so you know what happens? You don't open the windows! Ever! Well, it's not exactly "ever" but you certainly don't get to open them from November to March - that's a long time to hold your breath... Now, I think I shall change the subject and remind you about how pretty these places actually are and how wonderful and civilized Switzerland is...

Nigel and the 'duck walking along an old wooden bridge built in 1819, it still carries cars daily and is rock solid, not bad huh?

There are small troughs throughout all the villages, fed by spring water, originally used to water the animals, wash clothes and get drinking water. I am happy to report that, by a simple but clever series of compartments, the people could get to drinking water before Bessie and the washing.

There's a knight of some kind watching over this one - I think he's from the "Dark Side"

 

Not far up the road from Nigel's is another small village called Tschlin, where they brew a unique local beer, we had to go get some after we made some decent headway into Nigel's stock. From the car park, this one tiny part of the view

The same view with us blotting it out, but good, just for the record...

Sarah taking a drink from another of those fountain / trough thingies, like a well-bred princess

I love the way Europeans in general take care to decorate their buildings, everything is adorned, painted and decorated

Another snippet of view out over the mountains as seen from the other side of Tschlin, one would have to have something this wonderful to look at to make enduring a winter worth while.

When you stand on Nigel's doorstep, this is what you see...

You'll need to forgive the perspective distortions here, the photo stitching (or was it the taking) didn't go so well.

If you walk into the aforementioned door, this is what greets you...

Floor sloping upward toward the back, very rustic, very wooden very old and not a single hint of cow gas to be had anywhere.

Our time here ended too soon, bidding farewell, I felt like it was my old friends I was leaving behind. Thanks to Nigel and Valerie for their amazing hospitality and personality quirks.

There is apparently good skiing just up the mountain - see you in a winter coming soon I hope!