Switzerland 8 - Montreux

Today we woke up far too early, and immediately jumped on a train headed south... sound familiar? However today was south-west instead of south-east, to Montreux. Montreux is in the french-speaking portion of Switzerland, instead of the German, and it's a nice mix of the two cultures. Leaving the train station we stopped in a patisserie and I got pain au chocolat for breakfast - I can actually translate most the signs... it's a nice change from the German where I can read all the filler words and tragic few of the key words.  We ate on the shore of Lac Leman with a couple dozen wrens who were desperate for crumbs and cute enough to get them.

After breakfast we headed over to the dock where my dad asked if the tickets we bought online were acceptable for the ferry, only to be sarcastically informed by the steward that they required everyone to pay twice to afford le upkeep on le bateau. Sarcasm. Very not German.

La Suisse was a gorgeous paddlewheel steamship pushing a century in age, updated from coal to oil but otherwise true to form. The captain coasted in before slamming it hard astern, throwing water everywhere while deckhands roped the dock with well-practiced timing, stopping the boat perfectly aligned with the dock.  We sat in the bow for our 10 minute ride down the lake, across from a group of pensioners sipping cider and having a wonderful morning - it appeared they were taking the 2-hour round trip and it looked fantastic. However, just as we were settling in we realized we were pulling up to Château du Chillon, our stop! On the way out we had to cut through the boat and realized they had a massive well in the center of the ship to observe the steam engines and enormous crankshaft at work... I wish we had another few stops just to watch that! Oh well, here's a youtube link from a sister-ship:

The castle was started in the 10th century, built on an island just off the shore of the lake. We headed across the drawbridge, paid our entry fees, and stepped into a mishmash of history. The castle traded owners and roles over the centuries, and was renovated even more often. Starting as a perimeter wall with a keep and a guardhouse, the fortifications evolved until the entire island became entirely castle. Interestingly, the ancient  trade-route the castle was built to tax is now a highway and a rail-line. In the cellars / crypt / prison, the original rock of the island pokes through, forming walls and/or floors - which I always find enchanting - and you have to step over outcroppings as you explore the various rooms  These were gloomy, with small windows high in the ceilings, and their claim to fame is that Lord Byron visited some man who was chained to a pillar there for 5 years straight, and took a moment to graffiti his name into a neighboring pillar, where it is still visible. 

Much of the rest of the castle had been renovated, and features such innovations as garderobes emptying directly into the lake (which could be 60 feet beneath you), stoves that could be fed by servants in another room, and I particularly enjoyed the painted brickwork. Actually cutting and dressing several types of stones was far too expensive, so the interior walls would instead be plastered smooth, and then fake bricks in varying shades and patterns painted to mimic fancy stonework. Other signs of the centuries of adaptation included the conversion of archery embrasures into gun ports, as the technology of war improved. Conversely, the lake-side entertaining halls featured huge glass windows. If this seems poorly defensible, you're right! It was a flex on the power of some dude's navy. To top it all off we climbed the keep which offered great views in every direction, but we chose not to carry Sage up all those stairs so we quickly returned to the crew at the bottom to continue our day.

 Next on the list was a hike. Of course. Why not. This wound 2 miles around the lake, and while the views started nice, I quickly stopped noticing, since I was distracted as yesterday's soreness returned to remind me of my poor choices. Sage fell asleep for her nap, so we kept going until food became a priority. Then we hiked more, backtracked, and eventually found ourselves at an Italian restaurant. The service was good, but slow (very French), the wine was excellent (Petite Arvine - very Swiss-French), and the food, once it arrived, was fantastic. I somehow became tasked with taking care of Sage, and after she finished off her pizza bambino she handed me her fork. After a moment of hesitation, I realized she wanted my ravioli... So we shared those as well.

Afterwards, we didn't really have a timetable. We were in no rush to get back to Bern, and the weather was fantastic. So we sat in the park for an hour, crawling on the grass, trying to put flower petals back onto flowers, and just enjoying the lake views and breeze. It was delightful.

The train-ride back was routine at this point, and also when my jet-lag hit, so I'll skip ahead.  Back in Bern, the one thing on our (my mother's) to-do list was to watch the giant clock.  We rushed a few blocks across town to watch it strike (stopping for Gelato, of course), and it was rather disappointing. While the astronomical aspects of the clock (day, date, sunrise, sunset, astrological sign) were masterwork, the animation - a jester ringing some bells, a king slowly waving a baton, a carousel of bears rotating beneath him, and a rooster halfheartedly squawking - did not live up to the hype. Afterwards, the gathered crowd all collectively turned to each and shrugged, the international sign-language for "is that it?"

And that's it. Only 14,000 steps today, but that was enough. Tomorrow.... Lucerne! Where there's a lake I think? Every day is still a surprise, and most of the surprises are great.