Saturday morning, I was standing at the train station when my mobile started vibrating and making a racket. I stood up brought it out, took a look at the display and read Basma on it. The moment I was about to take the call the phone calmed itself. This certainly meant that she had arrived and could see me. Right I was. She soon came into view and we greeted each other with the usual Salams.
“I need to buy the ticket. What’s the destination again?” She questioned me.
“Ovronnaz, it’s a small town in the canton of Valais.” I gave her more information than she had asked for.
“Aren’t you gonna take the day pass?” I continued.
“No. I think it’ll be cheaper for me if I take the normal ticket. I’ve got the half-price card.” She explained.
She bought her ticket and asked me when Adrien was coming. I gave Adrien a call and found out that he was on his way in a bus and would arrive shortly. We waited and when there were only a few minutes left we moved towards the platform. I called Adrien again.
Adrien: “Yeah! I’m still in the bus but we’re almost here.”
Me: “There’s only five minutes left before the departure!”
Adrien: “I think I’ll make it if I run. You guys get to the platform and what platform is it?”
Me: “It’s 6. All right we’ll be close to a door and jump on when we see you running into the train.”
I hung up.
“Well, he’s gonna come running.” I told Basma.
We went up to the platform, stood next to the door of one wagon and looked out towards the other end of the train hoping to spot Adrien soon.
“One more minute left.” I said out loud.
I was now watching the second hand of the suspended clock.
“Swoosh, slam.” A noise came all of a sudden.
The doors of the train had been shut close and there we saw Adrien on the platform twenty meters away.
“Hey! He shut the doors 15 seconds early.” I said angrily.
“There goes the train.” Basma concluded.
“So close yet so far.” I replied.
Ten seconds more would have been more than enough to catch the train. Adrien came up to us panting.
“Sorry.” He apologized.
That’s ok. We’ll take the next one.” Basma asserted him.
“According to the timings I printed, the next one is in two hours.” I told them.
“But a train circulates on this route every hour.” Basma argued.
“True, but the bus we needed to take from Martigny doesn’t run every hour.” I explained.
“We could go somewhere else instead. How about Lac de Joux” I suggested.
“I’ve already bought my ticket.” Basma reminded me.
“Oh yeah. We’re going to Ovronnaz then.” I stuck to the original destination.
Adrien on his side had come up with the master plan.
“We can take the next direct train to Lausanne. It reaches Lausanne five minutes before the one we just missed. If the direct one is on time then we can switch at Lausanne.” He told us.
He seemed to be very well informed. It was a seductive plan. We could still save ourselves two hours. We went for it.
On the train I showed them the hiking routes which I had planned. Adrien made us listen to a few African tunes. Some of them sounded catchy. The closer we got to Lausanne the slower the train seemed to move and the more anxious we got. When we had reached Lausanne Adrien informed us that we only had three minutes left to find and hop on the next train. It seemed tough. We got up and got ready for the sprint. The moment the doors opened and we saw an opening in the human jungle we sped. I was in the lead. Upon sighting the train I ran up the platform and the moment I had reached the platform I heard it again.
“Swoosh, slam.”
I took a look at the clock and turned around.
“You can stop running. We missed it.” I yelled out.
When everyone was up I spoke again.
“It left ten seconds early!” I was furious on having missed it yet again by so little. I couldn’t see why the conductor was so pressed. If he had to go to the toilets they were present in the train as well.
Once again we searched for other plans. There were none to be found. We moved on to the next thing in the agenda. We had two hours to spend. How and where were we to do that?
After a few arguments and having checked with the train people for further details we came to the conclusion that we should go check out Martigny.
At Martigny the first thing we did was go to the tourism office. There was a girl sitting at the desk. I went to the other side looking at the various brochures on display. Basma and Adrien followed suit and went to the same side.
“Good day.” The tourism girl finally spoke.
I turned around walked to her and answered politely, stopped a while and continued again.
“We were heading towards Ovronnaz and were wondering if you would have any information on what we could do over there?” I asked
“I don’t have many details on that, but let me take a look.”
Soon enough she had produced a pamphlet showing the major hike routes, followed by a 50% off coupon for the only chairlift in town. We bid the tourism girl goodbye and went off wasting some time in Martigny. From Martigny we took a bus to a midpoint town, where we waited again for the bus to Ovronnaz.
At Ovronnaz we got off at the wrong stop and had to walk some more. By the time we got to the chairlift we realized that it was going to shutdown in ninety minutes. This was bad news. It had taken us more than three hours to get here and we wouldn’t even be able to stay up for two hours. The original plan was for a three hour thirty minute hike. The back up plan was for one hour thirty minutes. None of those could be taken as the times were approximated and it could take more or less time.
After a discussion we decided to go up anyway because otherwise we would have traveled all this way for nothing. We went to buy tickets at the booth.
“Do you give any reductions to holders of Swiss pass and half-price cards?” I asked the vendor.
“No sorry. We are a private company.” The vendor told us with a smile.
We took out our fifty percent off coupons and presented it to the vendor.
“Where did you get these?” The vendor asked us. His smile had faded into a small frown and his voice seemed rougher all of a sudden.
“At the tourism office in Martigny” We informed him.
“Six francs per person!” He replied without adding please or smiling.
We thanked him anyway, paid and took the chairlift up. On the way I noticed that Adrien looked pale. I realized then that Adrien was always reluctant in going somewhere whenever it was mentioned that a cable car would be used. This time I had forgotten to mention that.
“You ok?” I asked him.
“I don’t like heights!” He gave a quick short answer.
“Oops… I had forgotten that you didn’t like heights.” That was the only thing I could think of saying.
Adrien remained crisped and didn’t talk till we had reached the top. I’m sure he was glad to have touched the ground again.
Up there we just walked around a little, took a few pictures and headed back for chairlift to start the return journey. It wasn’t even a proper hike. It was more like a stroll in the mountains.
Disclaimer: Some accounts have been slightly modified and dialog's added to make the tales more interesting. Besides, I had to translate :-)
Copyright © 2005 Kazim Rehman
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Sunday, August 14, 2005
Gorges de l'Areuse Trip 23-07-2005
The Planning
I started planning this trip the day I saw a picture of the place in a brochure. The picture was that of a river flowing in the shadows of two enormous cliffs. To tell the truth it wasn't the most impressive of pictures I had seen. What made me want to visit this place was the fact that I had never been to such a landmark and that this wasn't a landmark which one would expect to see in Switz. Switzerland is more of a lake behind which one can see mountains (often lush green) kind of a place.
Once the decision was made I had to see if anyone else might want to join in this one day trip, as I had envisaged it to be. Fortunately I got hold of two people, both of them former classmates. One of them was Adrien a guy from Benin and the second a Pakistani girl named Basma. After many change of plans it was decided finally to go on a Sunday and due to Adrien's availability to take the train around noon.
Sunday Noon
Fortunately everyone was on time at the train station. We took the train as planned and got comfortably to Neuchatel city. It was from here that we took a regional train to Noiraigue a small town in the canton of Neuchatel. We all agreed that the regional train here was cleaner and more chic compared to the regional trains circulating in the cantons of Geneva and Vaud. It had polished wooden panels and walls instead of plastic or metallic ones. It actually looked like one of those old luxury trains. It was just a lot quieter than those old trains.
The Hike
Noiraigue was the starting point of our hike. According to the brochure the hike was to last only two hours and fifteen minutes. I had already printed out the directions and the train timings for the return trip as well for the arrival. So far everything was going according to plan.
As soon as we got off at the Noiraigue station we sighted the famous yellow hiking posts. We took the direction indicated by the sign post with 'Gorges de l'Areuse written on it. After five minutes we came to a point in the village where we hesitated to take a right or a left. Along came a six year old chap on his bicycle making "vroom, vroom" noises and going in circles around us. The boy's style reminded me off those American movies where a gang of bikers surrounds it victims and keeps on closing in and studying them. I was wondering where the rest of the gang was and what attack plan did they have. I almost laughed out loud looking at the force. Just then a little girl came running towards us from 20 meters.
"Oh great…" I thought. "…one midget heroine to go along with the midget villain. Did she just escape from the biker boys custody and are we gonna have to save her?"
I was still churning up all sorts of impossible situations when the adorable girl stopped right in front of us and asked:
"Are you people lost? Can I help you?"
"What's this? Inversion of roles? Is she going to save us?" I thought somewhat disappointed.
"Which way to Gorges de L'Areuse," Basma asked?
"Go down the road, take a left on to the road next to the train tracks and keep walking straight." the girl answered.
We all bid her our thanks and moved on. We were aware that the girl had already given us a good impression of this area.
"Did you understand what she said?" Basma asked me in Urdu.
"Yeah! Go back fifty meters to the train station. Run around in circles till the next train comes. Get on it and go home." I told her.
"Whaaaaaat?"
"She said........ go straight and take a left........" I told her. "...She was speaking in French!"
"I know but she spoke to fast" complained Basma.
Twenty minutes into the journey and we entered Gorges de L'Areuse. It was as I had expected it to be. A calm narrow river was flowing surrounded by massive natural walls. The river flew very smoothly almost as if the water was that of a small lake. Amazingly the color of this river wasn't comparable to any others I had seen. The surrounding environment had arranged itself to give this river a shiny emerald green color, which shined as if it was polished from above. It was worth coming here indeed. The path that we followed was made for hikers and it was situated next to one cliff or the other and situated a few meters above the water. Sometimes the path was even dug into the cliffs.
A few minutes had passed by when we came into another spectacular scene. This one however wasn't completely natural, even though it was in perfect harmony with nature. It was same as before but there was one fundamental difference. It was but a simple ancient bridge which stood before us. The fact that it was made out of stone and that time had been working on it for ages made it just as smooth as the boulders in the river and the surrounding cliffs. It stood in between the two cliffs as if it was acting as a buffer and not letting them get into a brawl. Though this human intervention was endorsed by nature and went perfectly along with its surroundings. We stayed around the area for a good twenty minutes taking photo shots here and there and then moved on. As we continued we came out of Gorges de L'Areuse and left it behind.
We had already passed through a few towns. It had drizzled for a few minutes in between but luckily the rain stopped soon afterwards. Meanwhile Basma had started complaining that we were going too slowly. Adrien was walking in a relaxed mood so he was usually behind. Personally, I was of the view that when hiking in group one should keep their pace to the slowest in the group so as not to force them into feeling like running a marathon. After all it isn't to suffer that one takes up hiking.
By now we were walking on a road and it passed by right next to that same river we had been crossing and following all day long. More than the suggested two hours and fifteen minutes had passed by and the destination didn't seem any closer according to the signposts than when we had started. Basma once again was of the view for the nth time that we weren't walking fast enough. Finally I had decided to take up the matter. I went up to Adrien and asked:
"How about going a lil faster?"
"Sure. No problem." he answered.
From someone who hadn't been on any hikes as I had understood and was saying a few days before that two hours and fifteen minutes was way too much and considering that we had already been walking for over three hours this was an unexpected, no resistance success.
"Ok, you lead then!" I gave him the go.
"All right, but you people are gonna have to keep up!"
"No problem." I answered.
As Adrien took the lead we crossed yet another bridge and were back on off-road. Initially we moving at a moderate pace but as soon as the track took height Adrien sped up. Normally people slow down when climbing but this was Adrien. I ended up jumping and half jogging from boulder to boulder. This was fun. I was beginning to wonder now if this was in the plan all along. Walking deliberately slow to take the lead and than taking us on a rollercoaster ride through the track. In the meantime we were back into the some cliffs. These one seemed even bigger and savage but not as breathtaking as the Gorges de L'Areuse. Three minutes on and I had already lost the directions and train timings sheets I had while brushing past a safety railing. Where they had fallen it would be impossible and dangerous to go so I moved on quickly to stay right behind Adrien but with hesitation. Luckily I knew the name of our end point destination of this hike. Two more minutes on and I realized that the 3rd person was no where to be seen. On this I told Adrien to stop, which he did after another fifteen meters. A good moment was to pass before Basma came around walking calmly. When she came up to us this is what she had to say:
"I'm sorry but you people are jerks."
"Huh... did she just get kidnapped by aliens and sent back with angry thoughts directed at us to see how humans handle these situations?" was the thought which came to my mind. "Those UFO’s must be pretty well made to be able to come down these cliffs."
"Just when there's a place to observe and take photos you people start running." She continued.
"Ok, maybe it wasn’t the aliens." I still couldn’t figure out the problem here.
Personally I was dumbfounded. First of all it was her who wanted to go faster. Secondly she could have just shouted at us to stop anytime if she wanted to stop or slow down. Thirdly she didn't have to get angry. She could have said the same thing in a more diplomatic fashion. To top it all off she added afterwards:
"I'll come at my own speed, you guys can continue running."
Whatever happened to the concept of group and team?
Adrien took up the argument: "I wasn't running! If you call that running that you haven't seen me running."
That led to a short stalemate conversation.
"Ok, we'll follow you then." I attempted to bring the situation down.
"Just move!"
That wasn't taken well either. From that I understood she was too angry for a reason which I simply couldn't see. I suppose it's the same reason for which I can't understand girls. Without any warning temper meters go red. It was clear that saying anything else wouldn't help and would be a waste of time. I smiled told Adrien that she was angry and took the lead.
We moved on taking photos here and there. Fortunately in a few minutes the tense atmosphere had moved on. In forty-five minutes we were out of the cliffs, into Noiraigue (our destination) and at the train station waiting for the train to start the ride back to our homes.
The hike which was supposed to last two hours and fifteen minutes ended up to be more than a four hour hike.
Moral of the story: Don't trust everything written in brochures.
Disclaimer: Some accounts have been slightly modified and dialog's added to make the tales more interesting (That’s why the day one of these people in my accounts end up reading my blogs they’ll declare war against me). Besides, I had to translate :-)
Copyright © 2005 Kazim Rehman
I started planning this trip the day I saw a picture of the place in a brochure. The picture was that of a river flowing in the shadows of two enormous cliffs. To tell the truth it wasn't the most impressive of pictures I had seen. What made me want to visit this place was the fact that I had never been to such a landmark and that this wasn't a landmark which one would expect to see in Switz. Switzerland is more of a lake behind which one can see mountains (often lush green) kind of a place.
Once the decision was made I had to see if anyone else might want to join in this one day trip, as I had envisaged it to be. Fortunately I got hold of two people, both of them former classmates. One of them was Adrien a guy from Benin and the second a Pakistani girl named Basma. After many change of plans it was decided finally to go on a Sunday and due to Adrien's availability to take the train around noon.
Sunday Noon
Fortunately everyone was on time at the train station. We took the train as planned and got comfortably to Neuchatel city. It was from here that we took a regional train to Noiraigue a small town in the canton of Neuchatel. We all agreed that the regional train here was cleaner and more chic compared to the regional trains circulating in the cantons of Geneva and Vaud. It had polished wooden panels and walls instead of plastic or metallic ones. It actually looked like one of those old luxury trains. It was just a lot quieter than those old trains.
The Hike
Noiraigue was the starting point of our hike. According to the brochure the hike was to last only two hours and fifteen minutes. I had already printed out the directions and the train timings for the return trip as well for the arrival. So far everything was going according to plan.
As soon as we got off at the Noiraigue station we sighted the famous yellow hiking posts. We took the direction indicated by the sign post with 'Gorges de l'Areuse written on it. After five minutes we came to a point in the village where we hesitated to take a right or a left. Along came a six year old chap on his bicycle making "vroom, vroom" noises and going in circles around us. The boy's style reminded me off those American movies where a gang of bikers surrounds it victims and keeps on closing in and studying them. I was wondering where the rest of the gang was and what attack plan did they have. I almost laughed out loud looking at the force. Just then a little girl came running towards us from 20 meters.
"Oh great…" I thought. "…one midget heroine to go along with the midget villain. Did she just escape from the biker boys custody and are we gonna have to save her?"
I was still churning up all sorts of impossible situations when the adorable girl stopped right in front of us and asked:
"Are you people lost? Can I help you?"
"What's this? Inversion of roles? Is she going to save us?" I thought somewhat disappointed.
"Which way to Gorges de L'Areuse," Basma asked?
"Go down the road, take a left on to the road next to the train tracks and keep walking straight." the girl answered.
We all bid her our thanks and moved on. We were aware that the girl had already given us a good impression of this area.
"Did you understand what she said?" Basma asked me in Urdu.
"Yeah! Go back fifty meters to the train station. Run around in circles till the next train comes. Get on it and go home." I told her.
"Whaaaaaat?"
"She said........ go straight and take a left........" I told her. "...She was speaking in French!"
"I know but she spoke to fast" complained Basma.
Twenty minutes into the journey and we entered Gorges de L'Areuse. It was as I had expected it to be. A calm narrow river was flowing surrounded by massive natural walls. The river flew very smoothly almost as if the water was that of a small lake. Amazingly the color of this river wasn't comparable to any others I had seen. The surrounding environment had arranged itself to give this river a shiny emerald green color, which shined as if it was polished from above. It was worth coming here indeed. The path that we followed was made for hikers and it was situated next to one cliff or the other and situated a few meters above the water. Sometimes the path was even dug into the cliffs.
A few minutes had passed by when we came into another spectacular scene. This one however wasn't completely natural, even though it was in perfect harmony with nature. It was same as before but there was one fundamental difference. It was but a simple ancient bridge which stood before us. The fact that it was made out of stone and that time had been working on it for ages made it just as smooth as the boulders in the river and the surrounding cliffs. It stood in between the two cliffs as if it was acting as a buffer and not letting them get into a brawl. Though this human intervention was endorsed by nature and went perfectly along with its surroundings. We stayed around the area for a good twenty minutes taking photo shots here and there and then moved on. As we continued we came out of Gorges de L'Areuse and left it behind.
We had already passed through a few towns. It had drizzled for a few minutes in between but luckily the rain stopped soon afterwards. Meanwhile Basma had started complaining that we were going too slowly. Adrien was walking in a relaxed mood so he was usually behind. Personally, I was of the view that when hiking in group one should keep their pace to the slowest in the group so as not to force them into feeling like running a marathon. After all it isn't to suffer that one takes up hiking.
By now we were walking on a road and it passed by right next to that same river we had been crossing and following all day long. More than the suggested two hours and fifteen minutes had passed by and the destination didn't seem any closer according to the signposts than when we had started. Basma once again was of the view for the nth time that we weren't walking fast enough. Finally I had decided to take up the matter. I went up to Adrien and asked:
"How about going a lil faster?"
"Sure. No problem." he answered.
From someone who hadn't been on any hikes as I had understood and was saying a few days before that two hours and fifteen minutes was way too much and considering that we had already been walking for over three hours this was an unexpected, no resistance success.
"Ok, you lead then!" I gave him the go.
"All right, but you people are gonna have to keep up!"
"No problem." I answered.
As Adrien took the lead we crossed yet another bridge and were back on off-road. Initially we moving at a moderate pace but as soon as the track took height Adrien sped up. Normally people slow down when climbing but this was Adrien. I ended up jumping and half jogging from boulder to boulder. This was fun. I was beginning to wonder now if this was in the plan all along. Walking deliberately slow to take the lead and than taking us on a rollercoaster ride through the track. In the meantime we were back into the some cliffs. These one seemed even bigger and savage but not as breathtaking as the Gorges de L'Areuse. Three minutes on and I had already lost the directions and train timings sheets I had while brushing past a safety railing. Where they had fallen it would be impossible and dangerous to go so I moved on quickly to stay right behind Adrien but with hesitation. Luckily I knew the name of our end point destination of this hike. Two more minutes on and I realized that the 3rd person was no where to be seen. On this I told Adrien to stop, which he did after another fifteen meters. A good moment was to pass before Basma came around walking calmly. When she came up to us this is what she had to say:
"I'm sorry but you people are jerks."
"Huh... did she just get kidnapped by aliens and sent back with angry thoughts directed at us to see how humans handle these situations?" was the thought which came to my mind. "Those UFO’s must be pretty well made to be able to come down these cliffs."
"Just when there's a place to observe and take photos you people start running." She continued.
"Ok, maybe it wasn’t the aliens." I still couldn’t figure out the problem here.
Personally I was dumbfounded. First of all it was her who wanted to go faster. Secondly she could have just shouted at us to stop anytime if she wanted to stop or slow down. Thirdly she didn't have to get angry. She could have said the same thing in a more diplomatic fashion. To top it all off she added afterwards:
"I'll come at my own speed, you guys can continue running."
Whatever happened to the concept of group and team?
Adrien took up the argument: "I wasn't running! If you call that running that you haven't seen me running."
That led to a short stalemate conversation.
"Ok, we'll follow you then." I attempted to bring the situation down.
"Just move!"
That wasn't taken well either. From that I understood she was too angry for a reason which I simply couldn't see. I suppose it's the same reason for which I can't understand girls. Without any warning temper meters go red. It was clear that saying anything else wouldn't help and would be a waste of time. I smiled told Adrien that she was angry and took the lead.
We moved on taking photos here and there. Fortunately in a few minutes the tense atmosphere had moved on. In forty-five minutes we were out of the cliffs, into Noiraigue (our destination) and at the train station waiting for the train to start the ride back to our homes.
The hike which was supposed to last two hours and fifteen minutes ended up to be more than a four hour hike.
Moral of the story: Don't trust everything written in brochures.
Disclaimer: Some accounts have been slightly modified and dialog's added to make the tales more interesting (That’s why the day one of these people in my accounts end up reading my blogs they’ll declare war against me). Besides, I had to translate :-)
Copyright © 2005 Kazim Rehman
Friday, January 07, 2005
Voyage to Schwarzsee
4th January 2005.....
6:30 AM
Beep, beep, beep.
It was my alarm clock trying to get my attention.
“Why do these things have to be so cruel and wake you just when you don't want to be awakened?” I asked myself.
I turned the alarm off and went back to sleep only to wake up with a start ten minutes later.
“I've got to get ready and catch the 7:40 regional train.” was the thought which sent my sleep back to slumber land.
My next thought was:
“Oh man, why does Achraf have to go this early?”
It was sad indeed, getting out of bed at such a time in the middle of Christmas-New Year holidays. If it was a school day I would have had no problem waking up even at six but this, this wasn't right. Slowly I got up and gathered that which I decided to wear and moved towards the bathroom.
Half an hour later I was freshened up and ready for the day. The plan of the day was to go to a certain place named Schwarzsee. That unfortunately meant that I was going to be in the German side of Switzerland. The part which as far as beauty is concerned is lovely but where I'm never at ease. First of all even with my two years of the German language I can't understand a word of Swiss German. Second it's a place which is not as welcoming towards foreigners as is the French side of Switzerland. With my skin color it can be seen from far that I'm not a local and well some people go as far as to associate it with a potential terrorist. So from time to time I get those weird looks which are watching you for the slightest unnatural behavior. Wonder how it would be like if one day I'd go with a grown beard and a traditional Pakistani dress.
Literally translated Schwarzsee gives black lake. Two days earlier Achraf had come over for a few hours to decide today’s destination along with the other minor details. Being January, the middle of winter there weren't many choices for people like us who don't know how to ski. After a little looking around the closest and the most interesting thing we came up with was the black lake. Being at 1050 meters above sea we figured by this time it would be frozen and there seemed to be a path we could take to contour the lake.
Back in my room I took a quick glance at the clock and realized I had half an hour left to take my breakfast. That was more than I needed to eat. I unhooked my mobile phone and the camera from there adapters and moved towards the kitchen. Once I entered the kitchen I did have a problem looking for a suitable breakfast.
“No waffles in the cupboard. Don't feel like eating cereal. What else is left? Hmm... What’s that in the pot on the stove?” To my surprise it was a dish called gajar ka halwa. Better breakfast than expected.
7:30 AM
I left my house 10 minutes before the trains scheduled arrival at the station. Normally when going to school I leave 5 minutes before but then I usually end up running to catch it. It's not that I've ever missed the train but I didn't feel like running today.
7:41 AM
The train arrived one minute late. Being in Switzerland people started complaining. Yup, that's Switzerland everything has to be perfect. When the train stopped it seemed already pretty much filled. That's when it became evident that even though those studying in the canton of Vaud were still on vacations their counterparts in Geneva were already going back to school. That meant that I would have to stand up until we reached Geneva. That's exactly what happened. Not a good start.
7:56 AM
The train reached the station and just about everyone including me got off. As he had said he would Achraf was waiting for me at the station. Achraf my classmate is about as tall as me and comes from Morocco. We greeted each other and walked to the platform from where we were to take the train to Fribourg. The train came on time and we left the station at 8:10. The ride was to take one hour and a half. Meanwhile we discussed on various topics. School is one thing which always comes up among us people going to EPFL. It's taken such an amount of time that we can't avoid coming to that subject. Another thing which came up was that we should have brought playing cards with us. From time to time there was also a good view of Lake Geneva and the surrounding mountains. One thing was certain the amount of snow on the ground had increased on the way. From non-existent in Geneva to snow covered villages in the canton of Fribourg. Before we knew it we were at our destination. Here we were supposed to look for a bus station and take a bus from there half an hour later. The bus station was just behind us but we went out, looked for a tourism office and were sent back to the same spot. That used up the half an hour extra we had pretty well.
10:00 AM
We left the station in the bus headed to the black lake. The journey as I had checked on the Internet was to take 50 minutes. The ride was rather slow and the stops even though not so frequent were draggingly long. A lot of students got on from different stops with snowboards in there hands. That gave us the idea that like us they were on vacations as well. Soon we realized that my friend and I came closer to all the senior citizens than our counterparts of this region. We were the only youngsters who didn't come armed with snowboards. We reached the place in time but as we had expected it to be the last stop which it wasn't we missed the stop. However, having demanded very quickly the bus driver dropped us off making a special stop 100 meters away. We gave him a big thank you and had a better look of the place.
10:55 AM
For one thing it was white all around. The not so obvious part was finding the lake. Once again we were looking too far. It was dead in front of us. Not so amazingly it wasn't black but it was white. It was the not so circular patch of snow which touched the chair-lift station on the left and the right end was hidden behind trees further down. That was a surprise. Not only was the lake frozen but it had about an inch of snow on it. As planned we started walking on the track near the frozen lake. It was my friend’s first trip to such a place and it was the first time he had seen a frozen lake. I had already seen one once but it was covered with a sheet of ice and not ice and snow so it was easier to tell. On the way I was looking for one of those yellow sign posts which you tend to find on hiking paths all over Switzerland. We did reach one of those after a couple of minutes and found out that we were on the lake tour trail. That part we already knew. About 15 minutes and three signposts later we reached a place with a lot more signposts. Now this was more helpful. The more signposts the better I always say. From there we took a detour and started towards a small waterfall in the region.
“Let's go.” said Achraf.
“All right. Let's.” I replied.
The moment we started to advance a dog started barking like a wolf.
“Then again let's go back.” I came out quickly.
“Yeah, the sign did say 15 minutes. That's far. Let's go back.” Achraf took the same stance as me.
Then we looked at each other and cried:
“Hell no!”
As we marched on the slippery track with less snow and more ice the dog kept on warning us. Finally the dog came into our vision. I had half expected a 20kg bulldog running towards us. Achraf had expected a tall lean mean German shepherd. On the contrary it was a measly little dog who just wanted to look bad. One thing is sure, the dog failed miserably to look bad, however it did sound like a wolf. He must have been working all last year on his bark. Now he just needed to lift more weights and grow half a meter. He was standing on the porch of what I presumed was his masters house. We kept on advancing and finally seeing we weren't backing off he did what I thought the Wizard of Oz did when he was found a humbug. He dog lost his voice.
“The moment we have our back towards him, he's gonna come runnin and bite us”, Achraf told me what he had in his mind all of a sudden.
That sounded scary.
“What if the dog had also practiced the sneaking up from back and biting his prey move?” I thought.
This idea sent a little shiver down my spine.
“Nah, its Switzerland. The dogs are well trained or they don't get there license.” I finally spoke.
“You know you won't even hear him coming.” I added later.
“What? It's not a tiger that would come silently and Grrrrr Swoosh would bring you down before you know what happened.” Achraf replied.
“No. That would be a leopard or a panther. Tigers are heavy and clumsier. And it would be more likely a Caaash instead of a Grrrr.........”
And so continued our debate on the sounds made and attacks inflicted by tigers. The topic changed slightly when Achraf told me a small account in his life.
“Once, in Morocco I was talking to my friend and this cat came running and bumped into my friend’s leg.”
“That's informative.” I thought.
He continued.
“The cat then looked up and had an expression on its face saying: Huh? What are you doing in my way? Then it ran away. My friend had a blue mark on his leg after that”
“I didn't know you could read the expressions on a cats face. You know that's amazing.” I made my conclusion of his story.
“You know what I meant.” he replied.
Fifteen Minutes later after joking around, we reached the waterfall or what was left of it. Apparently the waterfall had met the same fate as the black lake. Besides being white it was also frozen. Unlike the lake, the waterfall still had signs of water trickling. The ice formed great big pillars of ice varying in all shapes and sizes. It did leave a frozen trace of the normal course of the waterfall.
Achraf was quite happy to witness such a site. He expressed it by saying wow and damn. Earlier on he was arguing with me that it was impossible for falling water to be frozen in the air like that. He didn't want to believe me when I told him that ice formed a shell above the water and the water kept on flowing underneath if not above the ice. That's what I had figured out happened in observing half frozen waterfalls with chunks of ice sheets above it falling.
After taking a few photos and then a few risks to take better close up photos which didn't come out well even after all that work, we took another path followed it for a while then seeing no end point we went back towards the black lake. Once again on our way back the dog was barking at people coming from the other side. Once again he had no luck. Poor dog must have been quite a disappointing day. No one took his warnings seriously. When we passed by him again he didn't even growl or yelp.
12:30 PM
We came back on to the lake tour trail. From here we continued our lake contour. By now the sun was at a better angle for the rays to hit the lake and some of the nearby mountains, making everything more pleasant. After another hour of walking and having taken a few photos en route we had reached the ski station. People wearing colorful clothes could be seen sliding down the mountain in various ways. Meanwhile, quiet a few individuals had started to walk on the lake. Not only that, but the Para gliders were also using the lake as a landing field. The lake had life under and above it now. Slightly tired and hungry we sat down on a dry rock to eat what we had prepared for lunch. Achraf took out an apple and two oranges. I brought out a bag of chips. It turned out to be more of a snack than a lunch. Most people would say that bringing such things on such a tour isn't cunning at all. But that's not all we brought. Besides that in our survival kit we both had four energy bars. I also had a bottle of water where Achraf had a bottle of Schweppes and orange juice.
2:00 PM
Having eaten and rested a while we decided to take our turn at walking on the lake. We followed more or less the same straight path laid out by those that had preceded us.
That's when Achraf asked me the question which I'm sure had been disturbing him since the day we planned the trip.
“Why do they call it the black lake?”
How was a guy like me who had found out about its existence two days ago to answer that question?
“Have you seen how it looks in summer?” he added.
“Yeah, I've seen that.” I replied.
“Is it black? Did you come here in summer?” he continued bombarding me with questions.
“No and no.” I said calmly.
“Oh, you saw a picture then?”
“Ahan, the one on the brochure we picked up at tourism office.” I said almost mockingly.
“Oh yeah. But why do u think it's called the black lake?”
Having no satisfactory answer and being asked again I told him:
“Maybe if you swim to the bottom of it, having less light there it would look black. Or maybe the person who named it first discovered it in the middle of the night and was too tired to consider that lakes don't look the same at different hours..... And when he woke up next morning it was too late too change names.”
Achraf certainly didn't look convinced. I thought I had found excellent reasons for the lake to have such a name.
“You know, you could have just said you didn't know.” Achraf reproached.
“Yeah.... do you want a picture taken here?” was my simple reply.
“How many more pictures can you take?” he asked.
“Don't know. Don't care. It's a digital camera man. We'll just delete a few photos or change sticks if it's full. Normally at five mega pixels it takes around fifty to sixty photos.”
That was the advantage of these digital cameras. You could keep on pressing and clicking till you were tired. No need to worry about paying to get your photos developed or to consider changing roles like with the older classic ones.
After having taken a few pictures we went back towards land and continued towards the bus stop we had missed earlier on. We had seen the two main attractions of the region, the lake and the small waterfall. The only thing left on the agenda was the ice palace. The only reason I wanted to go there was because it had a cool name. In German it gave Eispalast. So far we hadn't found one signpost pointing towards that direction. Having reached the bus stop we had decided to take the next bus back. That was when looking at the signposts there we say:
Eispalast 45 min
“How about it Achraf, wanna go?”
“45 minutes to go and 45 to return that makes one and a half hours. No I'm too tired, maybe some other time.”
I was somewhat disappointed but that's the way it was. Thirty minutes later a red and white bus finally came.
3:05 PM
We got on the bus. The journey back had started.
3:54 PM
We were back at the train station. We threw a quick look at the departure times of the trains. The one going to Geneva was at 3:55.
“What time is it?” asked Achraf.
I took out my mobile to have a look.
“It's 3:55. RUN!”
“Do you even know which platform it is on?” Achraf seemed to lack trust in me.
“TWO.”
We ran up the stairs to the platform. Surely the train was there, but for how long? I ran to the closest door and pushed the button hoping the train doors hadn't been locked yet. Swoosh the train doors opened.
“Yes! We made it and saved ourselves an hour of waiting.” I cried in triumph.
We climbed up to the 2nd floor and walked through at least 3 first class wagons and a restaurant wagon before we reached the 2nd class.
“Okay, let's sum up the expenditures of this trip.” I said once seated.
“What expenditures?” Achraf looked at me dumbfound.
“Zero francs for the train ride because we have the Swiss pass. Zero francs for the bus ride because the Swiss pass covers all public transport networks. We didn't eat at a restaurant nor did we take the chair-lift up. So that sums up to be zero francs. You can't beat this.” I said with a smile.
Achraf gave a laugh and took the camera to review the pictures taken.
5:15 PM
We were in Geneva. I agreed to pass the photos to my friend tonight on the condition that he installs the program Hello. I wanted to test Hello out and the few people that I had asked before didn't seem keen on installing it. Finally we both bid farewells and parted in our separate directions.
Disclaimer: Most of the events are real and took place on my voyages with the Swiss General pass. Some accounts and personalities have been modified and dialog's added to make the tales more interesting. Besides, I had to translate :-)
Copyright © 2005 Kazim Rehman
6:30 AM
Beep, beep, beep.
It was my alarm clock trying to get my attention.
“Why do these things have to be so cruel and wake you just when you don't want to be awakened?” I asked myself.
I turned the alarm off and went back to sleep only to wake up with a start ten minutes later.
“I've got to get ready and catch the 7:40 regional train.” was the thought which sent my sleep back to slumber land.
My next thought was:
“Oh man, why does Achraf have to go this early?”
It was sad indeed, getting out of bed at such a time in the middle of Christmas-New Year holidays. If it was a school day I would have had no problem waking up even at six but this, this wasn't right. Slowly I got up and gathered that which I decided to wear and moved towards the bathroom.
Half an hour later I was freshened up and ready for the day. The plan of the day was to go to a certain place named Schwarzsee. That unfortunately meant that I was going to be in the German side of Switzerland. The part which as far as beauty is concerned is lovely but where I'm never at ease. First of all even with my two years of the German language I can't understand a word of Swiss German. Second it's a place which is not as welcoming towards foreigners as is the French side of Switzerland. With my skin color it can be seen from far that I'm not a local and well some people go as far as to associate it with a potential terrorist. So from time to time I get those weird looks which are watching you for the slightest unnatural behavior. Wonder how it would be like if one day I'd go with a grown beard and a traditional Pakistani dress.
Literally translated Schwarzsee gives black lake. Two days earlier Achraf had come over for a few hours to decide today’s destination along with the other minor details. Being January, the middle of winter there weren't many choices for people like us who don't know how to ski. After a little looking around the closest and the most interesting thing we came up with was the black lake. Being at 1050 meters above sea we figured by this time it would be frozen and there seemed to be a path we could take to contour the lake.
Back in my room I took a quick glance at the clock and realized I had half an hour left to take my breakfast. That was more than I needed to eat. I unhooked my mobile phone and the camera from there adapters and moved towards the kitchen. Once I entered the kitchen I did have a problem looking for a suitable breakfast.
“No waffles in the cupboard. Don't feel like eating cereal. What else is left? Hmm... What’s that in the pot on the stove?” To my surprise it was a dish called gajar ka halwa. Better breakfast than expected.
7:30 AM
I left my house 10 minutes before the trains scheduled arrival at the station. Normally when going to school I leave 5 minutes before but then I usually end up running to catch it. It's not that I've ever missed the train but I didn't feel like running today.
7:41 AM
The train arrived one minute late. Being in Switzerland people started complaining. Yup, that's Switzerland everything has to be perfect. When the train stopped it seemed already pretty much filled. That's when it became evident that even though those studying in the canton of Vaud were still on vacations their counterparts in Geneva were already going back to school. That meant that I would have to stand up until we reached Geneva. That's exactly what happened. Not a good start.
7:56 AM
The train reached the station and just about everyone including me got off. As he had said he would Achraf was waiting for me at the station. Achraf my classmate is about as tall as me and comes from Morocco. We greeted each other and walked to the platform from where we were to take the train to Fribourg. The train came on time and we left the station at 8:10. The ride was to take one hour and a half. Meanwhile we discussed on various topics. School is one thing which always comes up among us people going to EPFL. It's taken such an amount of time that we can't avoid coming to that subject. Another thing which came up was that we should have brought playing cards with us. From time to time there was also a good view of Lake Geneva and the surrounding mountains. One thing was certain the amount of snow on the ground had increased on the way. From non-existent in Geneva to snow covered villages in the canton of Fribourg. Before we knew it we were at our destination. Here we were supposed to look for a bus station and take a bus from there half an hour later. The bus station was just behind us but we went out, looked for a tourism office and were sent back to the same spot. That used up the half an hour extra we had pretty well.
10:00 AM
We left the station in the bus headed to the black lake. The journey as I had checked on the Internet was to take 50 minutes. The ride was rather slow and the stops even though not so frequent were draggingly long. A lot of students got on from different stops with snowboards in there hands. That gave us the idea that like us they were on vacations as well. Soon we realized that my friend and I came closer to all the senior citizens than our counterparts of this region. We were the only youngsters who didn't come armed with snowboards. We reached the place in time but as we had expected it to be the last stop which it wasn't we missed the stop. However, having demanded very quickly the bus driver dropped us off making a special stop 100 meters away. We gave him a big thank you and had a better look of the place.
10:55 AM
For one thing it was white all around. The not so obvious part was finding the lake. Once again we were looking too far. It was dead in front of us. Not so amazingly it wasn't black but it was white. It was the not so circular patch of snow which touched the chair-lift station on the left and the right end was hidden behind trees further down. That was a surprise. Not only was the lake frozen but it had about an inch of snow on it. As planned we started walking on the track near the frozen lake. It was my friend’s first trip to such a place and it was the first time he had seen a frozen lake. I had already seen one once but it was covered with a sheet of ice and not ice and snow so it was easier to tell. On the way I was looking for one of those yellow sign posts which you tend to find on hiking paths all over Switzerland. We did reach one of those after a couple of minutes and found out that we were on the lake tour trail. That part we already knew. About 15 minutes and three signposts later we reached a place with a lot more signposts. Now this was more helpful. The more signposts the better I always say. From there we took a detour and started towards a small waterfall in the region.
“Let's go.” said Achraf.
“All right. Let's.” I replied.
The moment we started to advance a dog started barking like a wolf.
“Then again let's go back.” I came out quickly.
“Yeah, the sign did say 15 minutes. That's far. Let's go back.” Achraf took the same stance as me.
Then we looked at each other and cried:
“Hell no!”
As we marched on the slippery track with less snow and more ice the dog kept on warning us. Finally the dog came into our vision. I had half expected a 20kg bulldog running towards us. Achraf had expected a tall lean mean German shepherd. On the contrary it was a measly little dog who just wanted to look bad. One thing is sure, the dog failed miserably to look bad, however it did sound like a wolf. He must have been working all last year on his bark. Now he just needed to lift more weights and grow half a meter. He was standing on the porch of what I presumed was his masters house. We kept on advancing and finally seeing we weren't backing off he did what I thought the Wizard of Oz did when he was found a humbug. He dog lost his voice.
“The moment we have our back towards him, he's gonna come runnin and bite us”, Achraf told me what he had in his mind all of a sudden.
That sounded scary.
“What if the dog had also practiced the sneaking up from back and biting his prey move?” I thought.
This idea sent a little shiver down my spine.
“Nah, its Switzerland. The dogs are well trained or they don't get there license.” I finally spoke.
“You know you won't even hear him coming.” I added later.
“What? It's not a tiger that would come silently and Grrrrr Swoosh would bring you down before you know what happened.” Achraf replied.
“No. That would be a leopard or a panther. Tigers are heavy and clumsier. And it would be more likely a Caaash instead of a Grrrr.........”
And so continued our debate on the sounds made and attacks inflicted by tigers. The topic changed slightly when Achraf told me a small account in his life.
“Once, in Morocco I was talking to my friend and this cat came running and bumped into my friend’s leg.”
“That's informative.” I thought.
He continued.
“The cat then looked up and had an expression on its face saying: Huh? What are you doing in my way? Then it ran away. My friend had a blue mark on his leg after that”
“I didn't know you could read the expressions on a cats face. You know that's amazing.” I made my conclusion of his story.
“You know what I meant.” he replied.
Fifteen Minutes later after joking around, we reached the waterfall or what was left of it. Apparently the waterfall had met the same fate as the black lake. Besides being white it was also frozen. Unlike the lake, the waterfall still had signs of water trickling. The ice formed great big pillars of ice varying in all shapes and sizes. It did leave a frozen trace of the normal course of the waterfall.
Achraf was quite happy to witness such a site. He expressed it by saying wow and damn. Earlier on he was arguing with me that it was impossible for falling water to be frozen in the air like that. He didn't want to believe me when I told him that ice formed a shell above the water and the water kept on flowing underneath if not above the ice. That's what I had figured out happened in observing half frozen waterfalls with chunks of ice sheets above it falling.
After taking a few photos and then a few risks to take better close up photos which didn't come out well even after all that work, we took another path followed it for a while then seeing no end point we went back towards the black lake. Once again on our way back the dog was barking at people coming from the other side. Once again he had no luck. Poor dog must have been quite a disappointing day. No one took his warnings seriously. When we passed by him again he didn't even growl or yelp.
12:30 PM
We came back on to the lake tour trail. From here we continued our lake contour. By now the sun was at a better angle for the rays to hit the lake and some of the nearby mountains, making everything more pleasant. After another hour of walking and having taken a few photos en route we had reached the ski station. People wearing colorful clothes could be seen sliding down the mountain in various ways. Meanwhile, quiet a few individuals had started to walk on the lake. Not only that, but the Para gliders were also using the lake as a landing field. The lake had life under and above it now. Slightly tired and hungry we sat down on a dry rock to eat what we had prepared for lunch. Achraf took out an apple and two oranges. I brought out a bag of chips. It turned out to be more of a snack than a lunch. Most people would say that bringing such things on such a tour isn't cunning at all. But that's not all we brought. Besides that in our survival kit we both had four energy bars. I also had a bottle of water where Achraf had a bottle of Schweppes and orange juice.
2:00 PM
Having eaten and rested a while we decided to take our turn at walking on the lake. We followed more or less the same straight path laid out by those that had preceded us.
That's when Achraf asked me the question which I'm sure had been disturbing him since the day we planned the trip.
“Why do they call it the black lake?”
How was a guy like me who had found out about its existence two days ago to answer that question?
“Have you seen how it looks in summer?” he added.
“Yeah, I've seen that.” I replied.
“Is it black? Did you come here in summer?” he continued bombarding me with questions.
“No and no.” I said calmly.
“Oh, you saw a picture then?”
“Ahan, the one on the brochure we picked up at tourism office.” I said almost mockingly.
“Oh yeah. But why do u think it's called the black lake?”
Having no satisfactory answer and being asked again I told him:
“Maybe if you swim to the bottom of it, having less light there it would look black. Or maybe the person who named it first discovered it in the middle of the night and was too tired to consider that lakes don't look the same at different hours..... And when he woke up next morning it was too late too change names.”
Achraf certainly didn't look convinced. I thought I had found excellent reasons for the lake to have such a name.
“You know, you could have just said you didn't know.” Achraf reproached.
“Yeah.... do you want a picture taken here?” was my simple reply.
“How many more pictures can you take?” he asked.
“Don't know. Don't care. It's a digital camera man. We'll just delete a few photos or change sticks if it's full. Normally at five mega pixels it takes around fifty to sixty photos.”
That was the advantage of these digital cameras. You could keep on pressing and clicking till you were tired. No need to worry about paying to get your photos developed or to consider changing roles like with the older classic ones.
After having taken a few pictures we went back towards land and continued towards the bus stop we had missed earlier on. We had seen the two main attractions of the region, the lake and the small waterfall. The only thing left on the agenda was the ice palace. The only reason I wanted to go there was because it had a cool name. In German it gave Eispalast. So far we hadn't found one signpost pointing towards that direction. Having reached the bus stop we had decided to take the next bus back. That was when looking at the signposts there we say:
Eispalast 45 min
“How about it Achraf, wanna go?”
“45 minutes to go and 45 to return that makes one and a half hours. No I'm too tired, maybe some other time.”
I was somewhat disappointed but that's the way it was. Thirty minutes later a red and white bus finally came.
3:05 PM
We got on the bus. The journey back had started.
3:54 PM
We were back at the train station. We threw a quick look at the departure times of the trains. The one going to Geneva was at 3:55.
“What time is it?” asked Achraf.
I took out my mobile to have a look.
“It's 3:55. RUN!”
“Do you even know which platform it is on?” Achraf seemed to lack trust in me.
“TWO.”
We ran up the stairs to the platform. Surely the train was there, but for how long? I ran to the closest door and pushed the button hoping the train doors hadn't been locked yet. Swoosh the train doors opened.
“Yes! We made it and saved ourselves an hour of waiting.” I cried in triumph.
We climbed up to the 2nd floor and walked through at least 3 first class wagons and a restaurant wagon before we reached the 2nd class.
“Okay, let's sum up the expenditures of this trip.” I said once seated.
“What expenditures?” Achraf looked at me dumbfound.
“Zero francs for the train ride because we have the Swiss pass. Zero francs for the bus ride because the Swiss pass covers all public transport networks. We didn't eat at a restaurant nor did we take the chair-lift up. So that sums up to be zero francs. You can't beat this.” I said with a smile.
Achraf gave a laugh and took the camera to review the pictures taken.
5:15 PM
We were in Geneva. I agreed to pass the photos to my friend tonight on the condition that he installs the program Hello. I wanted to test Hello out and the few people that I had asked before didn't seem keen on installing it. Finally we both bid farewells and parted in our separate directions.
Disclaimer: Most of the events are real and took place on my voyages with the Swiss General pass. Some accounts and personalities have been modified and dialog's added to make the tales more interesting. Besides, I had to translate :-)
Copyright © 2005 Kazim Rehman
Thursday, January 06, 2005
First outing with AG
24th December was the first day of our Christmas-New Year holidays. This year something was different. Last year I had a custom pass which covered all train voyages between Geneva and Lausanne. That also covered Versoix where I live, twelve minutes by train to Geneva. The pass also covered the first zone of Lausanne’s public transport network. I needed that to reach my university, EPFL. University being the reason I had the pass.
There’s also a pass known as Abonnement Général in French or in short AG. The AG or the Swiss General pass covers almost all the trains on the Swiss rail network and includes all the public transport networks of all the cities and towns in Switzerland. In short it’s your pass to unlimited travel without the hassle of needing to buy tickets. The Swiss pass for those under the age of twenty-five costs two hundred francs per month. Compared to the pass I had which only covered two cities sixty kilometers apart and for which I was paying one hundred eighty six francs per month, Swiss pass was a bargain. Last year I was almost certain on getting the AG. A few weeks of university made me reconsider that. With the workload we had from the university there was no way I would be able to travel freely. I was certainly right on that matter.
This year I knew I could take out some time so I had taken the Swiss pass. The only problem now was to find someone who also had the pass and would be willing to travel. My main interests were to see the mountains and to hike. I wasn’t much interested in cities or shopping or night life. In fact I didn’t have money to spend. I certainly wouldn’t want to go with someone who was a spender, an individual who would prefer to eat at restaurants or to take cable cars up the mountains instead of hiking. My mission now was not only to find someone who had an AG but also someone who didn’t have a lot money in hands.
Since the beginning of the school year I had started asking when I had the chance to my friends and classmates if they had the AG. Once I found out an AG holder I asked if the person would be interested in traveling for sightseeing and hiking. By the time the Christmas-New Year vacations had came only two had agreed. None of them was a spender. That was just the way I wanted it. The one thing we three had in common was that the three of us were foreigners and didn’t know how to ski or snowboard. I guess the rest of the students would either be sitting home or would be skiing.
In the first few days of the vacations I messaged both of them asking if they would be interested. One seemed to have disappeared from the face of the earth since he didn’t give any replies. The second Adrien, a fellow from Benin agreed. After three days of agreements and postponing we finally went to Les Pléaides. That was going to be my first trip with the Swiss pass.
Now Adrien was an easy going man. When I had suggested catching a nine o clock train he bluntly refused saying it was too early. Not such a big deal, we agreed on taking the 10:56 train. But I suppose even that was too early for him. He came to the station ten minutes late. The journey finally started when we took the 11:36 train.
My initial plan was to go to Vevey and from there go to a station from which we could take a cable car to Mont Pèlerin. From there it was an hour walk to the summit. According to the directions I took, the cable car station was accessible in thirty minutes by walk from the train station of Vevey. Once in Vevey we had to find the cable car station. When we got off at Vevey the first thing I made us do was to look for the tourism office. In ten minutes of getting lost and following various on the road maps we got there only to find it closed because it was already noon. Luckily they had left brochures of the region outside the office. We each took one and started to flip through.
With the maps in the brochure, I decided it would be better to skip Mont Pèlerin and to go to Les Pléaides. Les Pléaides was higher than Mont Pèlerin and the train to Les Pléaides could be taken from the train station which we knew the directions to. That meant less work for better view.
While we were looking for the tourism office, Adrien was telling me about this report he saw on a French channel. It was something like this:
One day a man heard a great thump and clattering on his roof. He ran out immediately suspecting a burglar but instead found a big block of ice. The couple who the house belonged to preserved the ice block and both being curious had it analyzed. The results of the test told them that the block of ice was in fact a block of human urine.
This part had made me laugh out loud. But it had also got me wondering how could a block of human urine fall out of the sky like that?
As he continued his summary of the report he made it all clear. The storage compartment of an airplane flying had opened. At that height the temperature is below zero and so the couple received a block of urine as a gift from the airplane.
In a few minutes we were back in the train station. Adrien being hungry bought himself raisin bread and we got seated in the regional train to Les Pléaides. Half way along the journey we had to change trains. We had to change them because the next half of the track was steeper and slipperier. It was made for cogwheel trains. Being a cogwheel train it was slow but at least it had a good outer appearance.
When we reached our destination snow was all around. Over there it became evident having very gentle slopes this place was frequently used to teach skiing to kids. Snow was in abundant and so were the kids. There was only one track for hiking. We took that one, took a shortcut and in less than ten minutes we were back from where we started. Now Adrien as I found out later that day had never been around so much snow. Not only that but he didn’t understand on the phone the other day when I told him I planned on going to a certain mountain. In short he wasn’t prepared for snow. He had on normal sneakers with super thin soles and the rest made out of what seemed to be synthetic material. He had no warm hat, gloves or scarf. I didn’t have those either except for a warm hat. However I did have CAT boots with thick soles and thick outer material and the front region was covered with some rubber like substance.
Adrien was already ready to go back. He had suggested that we take the next train back to Vevey and go home. He did like the snow and the view but since none of us had brought a camera was disappointed and was feeling cold now. We took a look at the train timings only to find out that the next train was going to come in an hour. Having an hour I suggested we take the real path and don’t take any shortcuts to kill the time. We retook the same path.
It was after a few minutes that Adrien started complaining.
“It’s cold, my poor hands.” He complained.
“It’s not that cold.” I said.
“I don’t have gloves and I touched the snow.” He continued.
“Neither do I and I touched the snow too.” I kept my stance.
“Here I’ll do it again.” I picked up some snow, made a snowball and threw it into the bushes and quickly replaced my hands back in my pocket.
“My poor hands.” He repeated.
After three more minutes.
“I can’t feel my feet.” He restarted.
“Okay.” I replied.
“I don’t have good shoes.”
“Yeah. Just about fifty more minutes left.”
“I can’t feel my toes.”
“You told me that already.”
Just then while we were going down a couple was climbing dragging a baby cart with them.
“See we aren’t the only ones and they have it harder. Not only are they climbing but they also have the baby cart with them.”
“I’m going to die.” That was his reply.
Now we were going through trees. I was having fun sliding down as the descent wasn’t very steep but just enough to give a good slip.
“This is fun man, you should try it.” I encouraged Adrien.
“My toes.”
He had limited replies that day. I continued on slipping and sliding. In front of us coming out of the trees we saw that ahead of us the sunrays were touching the ground.
“Oh good the sun. Maybe that will warm me up.” Adrien had just found some life back.
“Yeah, just a little farther.” I replied
I kept on slipping and sliding down instead of walking and once I reached the sunny patch of land, I shouted to Adrien:
“Come on, you are almost there.”
“My poor feet.” That was his speech.
Slowly but surely Adrien made it. The weak sunshine wasn’t helpful. He finally made a decision and told me that he can’t continue like this and we should go back and wait for the train to come.
“If it’s that bad why don’t we just go down to that town below? The train stops there as well and it’s closer. Plus we won’t half to climb.”
Adrien seemed hesitant but he saw my logic and agreed upon my opinion.
“My toooeeeeees.” He continued on.
Ten more minutes and we were in the small cabin which served as a train stop.
“Okay twenty more minutes and we can take the train when it’s going up to Les Pléaides.” I informed Adrien.
“My hands.”
“Are they beautiful?” I asked.
“My toes.”
“Move them around a little to warm them up instead of sitting like a statue.” I counseled.
“Can’t feel em. Hurry up train driver!”
I in contrast to Adrien was feeling hot. I took off my jacket for a few minutes to cool down and then put it back on. Then I walked out of the cabin to have a look around. The mountains in view were crystal clear and I could distinct each tree planted on them. Each tree had a white coating on its branches and leaves. I could even distinguish further peaks. There was one with an antenna which I guessed to be Rocher de Naye. Having admired the scenery I stepped back in the cabin to join Adrien.
“My poor toes.” Adrien’s voice came to my ears.
He was either really in agony, was bugging me or was being funny. Personally I think it was all three at the same time.
We kept on waiting. Adrien kept on asking the time. Amazingly enough, the train was running late. It was its arrival time and still no sign of the train. All this time Adrien had gathered enough energy to get off the bench and now he had started pacing around. Much to Adrien’s discontent the train arrived seven minutes late.
When it finally arrived Adrien moved towards the first door, pressed a button to open it and went straight to a place near the heating. The train started to move and we went back up to Les Pléaides. Once it stopped everyone got off except us.
“Wanna get off and take a hike?” I joked.
“No way.” He gave the already expected answer.
A few more minutes and the train left Les Pléaides and so ended our short lived adventure.
Disclaimer: Most of the events are real and took place on my voyages with the Swiss General pass. Some accounts and personalities have been modified and dialog's added to make the tales more interesting. Besides, I had to translate :-)
Copyright © 2005 Kazim Rehman
There’s also a pass known as Abonnement Général in French or in short AG. The AG or the Swiss General pass covers almost all the trains on the Swiss rail network and includes all the public transport networks of all the cities and towns in Switzerland. In short it’s your pass to unlimited travel without the hassle of needing to buy tickets. The Swiss pass for those under the age of twenty-five costs two hundred francs per month. Compared to the pass I had which only covered two cities sixty kilometers apart and for which I was paying one hundred eighty six francs per month, Swiss pass was a bargain. Last year I was almost certain on getting the AG. A few weeks of university made me reconsider that. With the workload we had from the university there was no way I would be able to travel freely. I was certainly right on that matter.
This year I knew I could take out some time so I had taken the Swiss pass. The only problem now was to find someone who also had the pass and would be willing to travel. My main interests were to see the mountains and to hike. I wasn’t much interested in cities or shopping or night life. In fact I didn’t have money to spend. I certainly wouldn’t want to go with someone who was a spender, an individual who would prefer to eat at restaurants or to take cable cars up the mountains instead of hiking. My mission now was not only to find someone who had an AG but also someone who didn’t have a lot money in hands.
Since the beginning of the school year I had started asking when I had the chance to my friends and classmates if they had the AG. Once I found out an AG holder I asked if the person would be interested in traveling for sightseeing and hiking. By the time the Christmas-New Year vacations had came only two had agreed. None of them was a spender. That was just the way I wanted it. The one thing we three had in common was that the three of us were foreigners and didn’t know how to ski or snowboard. I guess the rest of the students would either be sitting home or would be skiing.
In the first few days of the vacations I messaged both of them asking if they would be interested. One seemed to have disappeared from the face of the earth since he didn’t give any replies. The second Adrien, a fellow from Benin agreed. After three days of agreements and postponing we finally went to Les Pléaides. That was going to be my first trip with the Swiss pass.
Now Adrien was an easy going man. When I had suggested catching a nine o clock train he bluntly refused saying it was too early. Not such a big deal, we agreed on taking the 10:56 train. But I suppose even that was too early for him. He came to the station ten minutes late. The journey finally started when we took the 11:36 train.
My initial plan was to go to Vevey and from there go to a station from which we could take a cable car to Mont Pèlerin. From there it was an hour walk to the summit. According to the directions I took, the cable car station was accessible in thirty minutes by walk from the train station of Vevey. Once in Vevey we had to find the cable car station. When we got off at Vevey the first thing I made us do was to look for the tourism office. In ten minutes of getting lost and following various on the road maps we got there only to find it closed because it was already noon. Luckily they had left brochures of the region outside the office. We each took one and started to flip through.
With the maps in the brochure, I decided it would be better to skip Mont Pèlerin and to go to Les Pléaides. Les Pléaides was higher than Mont Pèlerin and the train to Les Pléaides could be taken from the train station which we knew the directions to. That meant less work for better view.
While we were looking for the tourism office, Adrien was telling me about this report he saw on a French channel. It was something like this:
One day a man heard a great thump and clattering on his roof. He ran out immediately suspecting a burglar but instead found a big block of ice. The couple who the house belonged to preserved the ice block and both being curious had it analyzed. The results of the test told them that the block of ice was in fact a block of human urine.
This part had made me laugh out loud. But it had also got me wondering how could a block of human urine fall out of the sky like that?
As he continued his summary of the report he made it all clear. The storage compartment of an airplane flying had opened. At that height the temperature is below zero and so the couple received a block of urine as a gift from the airplane.
In a few minutes we were back in the train station. Adrien being hungry bought himself raisin bread and we got seated in the regional train to Les Pléaides. Half way along the journey we had to change trains. We had to change them because the next half of the track was steeper and slipperier. It was made for cogwheel trains. Being a cogwheel train it was slow but at least it had a good outer appearance.
When we reached our destination snow was all around. Over there it became evident having very gentle slopes this place was frequently used to teach skiing to kids. Snow was in abundant and so were the kids. There was only one track for hiking. We took that one, took a shortcut and in less than ten minutes we were back from where we started. Now Adrien as I found out later that day had never been around so much snow. Not only that but he didn’t understand on the phone the other day when I told him I planned on going to a certain mountain. In short he wasn’t prepared for snow. He had on normal sneakers with super thin soles and the rest made out of what seemed to be synthetic material. He had no warm hat, gloves or scarf. I didn’t have those either except for a warm hat. However I did have CAT boots with thick soles and thick outer material and the front region was covered with some rubber like substance.
Adrien was already ready to go back. He had suggested that we take the next train back to Vevey and go home. He did like the snow and the view but since none of us had brought a camera was disappointed and was feeling cold now. We took a look at the train timings only to find out that the next train was going to come in an hour. Having an hour I suggested we take the real path and don’t take any shortcuts to kill the time. We retook the same path.
It was after a few minutes that Adrien started complaining.
“It’s cold, my poor hands.” He complained.
“It’s not that cold.” I said.
“I don’t have gloves and I touched the snow.” He continued.
“Neither do I and I touched the snow too.” I kept my stance.
“Here I’ll do it again.” I picked up some snow, made a snowball and threw it into the bushes and quickly replaced my hands back in my pocket.
“My poor hands.” He repeated.
After three more minutes.
“I can’t feel my feet.” He restarted.
“Okay.” I replied.
“I don’t have good shoes.”
“Yeah. Just about fifty more minutes left.”
“I can’t feel my toes.”
“You told me that already.”
Just then while we were going down a couple was climbing dragging a baby cart with them.
“See we aren’t the only ones and they have it harder. Not only are they climbing but they also have the baby cart with them.”
“I’m going to die.” That was his reply.
Now we were going through trees. I was having fun sliding down as the descent wasn’t very steep but just enough to give a good slip.
“This is fun man, you should try it.” I encouraged Adrien.
“My toes.”
He had limited replies that day. I continued on slipping and sliding. In front of us coming out of the trees we saw that ahead of us the sunrays were touching the ground.
“Oh good the sun. Maybe that will warm me up.” Adrien had just found some life back.
“Yeah, just a little farther.” I replied
I kept on slipping and sliding down instead of walking and once I reached the sunny patch of land, I shouted to Adrien:
“Come on, you are almost there.”
“My poor feet.” That was his speech.
Slowly but surely Adrien made it. The weak sunshine wasn’t helpful. He finally made a decision and told me that he can’t continue like this and we should go back and wait for the train to come.
“If it’s that bad why don’t we just go down to that town below? The train stops there as well and it’s closer. Plus we won’t half to climb.”
Adrien seemed hesitant but he saw my logic and agreed upon my opinion.
“My toooeeeeees.” He continued on.
Ten more minutes and we were in the small cabin which served as a train stop.
“Okay twenty more minutes and we can take the train when it’s going up to Les Pléaides.” I informed Adrien.
“My hands.”
“Are they beautiful?” I asked.
“My toes.”
“Move them around a little to warm them up instead of sitting like a statue.” I counseled.
“Can’t feel em. Hurry up train driver!”
I in contrast to Adrien was feeling hot. I took off my jacket for a few minutes to cool down and then put it back on. Then I walked out of the cabin to have a look around. The mountains in view were crystal clear and I could distinct each tree planted on them. Each tree had a white coating on its branches and leaves. I could even distinguish further peaks. There was one with an antenna which I guessed to be Rocher de Naye. Having admired the scenery I stepped back in the cabin to join Adrien.
“My poor toes.” Adrien’s voice came to my ears.
He was either really in agony, was bugging me or was being funny. Personally I think it was all three at the same time.
We kept on waiting. Adrien kept on asking the time. Amazingly enough, the train was running late. It was its arrival time and still no sign of the train. All this time Adrien had gathered enough energy to get off the bench and now he had started pacing around. Much to Adrien’s discontent the train arrived seven minutes late.
When it finally arrived Adrien moved towards the first door, pressed a button to open it and went straight to a place near the heating. The train started to move and we went back up to Les Pléaides. Once it stopped everyone got off except us.
“Wanna get off and take a hike?” I joked.
“No way.” He gave the already expected answer.
A few more minutes and the train left Les Pléaides and so ended our short lived adventure.
Disclaimer: Most of the events are real and took place on my voyages with the Swiss General pass. Some accounts and personalities have been modified and dialog's added to make the tales more interesting. Besides, I had to translate :-)
Copyright © 2005 Kazim Rehman
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