Aigle

For years, ever since the children were old enough to find me annoying, there has been a young family tradition. To be fair it is my tradition and no-one else is overly impressed. On the day before any holiday ended, I would at some point start to sing the opening lines of Frank Sinatra's New York New York. "Start spreading the news, we're leaving to...morrow". Guaranteed to get a chorus of "Oh dad!", normally by the end of the 4th word. So today is that day and traditions must be upheld. But I will choose to uphold them silently, otherwise I may suffer actual bodily harm. I have been Jackie's sole companion for the last 9 days and even I accept that one can have too much of a good thing.

Last night, despite warnings of an imminent heavy thunderstorm, we decided to travel to Vevey for dinner. It was a straightforward journey, 5 min by bus, 6 min by train, then a 7 minute walk. Leaving the restaurant, the heavens opened and the rain started to bounce off the pavement. We hopped, skipped and jumped between what cover we could find on the way back to the station, but by the time we got there we were soaked through. No matter, life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, its about learning how to dance in the rain. And we did.

This morning, we walked along the lakeside through Montreux, past numerous art installations, including the famous statue of Freddie Mercury. As a science graduate with a logical brain, I struggle with visual art in much the same way as I do when wine connoisseurs describe the bouquet of a fine wine. Take for example the sculpture in the photo. Whilst I see numerous vertical poles ending in metal figures, not unlike those we have found in toilet signage, the artist visualises "the trickle of ink paint in space, a tension between sculpture and painting. Through this work, I suspend time between 2 states, the flow of paint and the ascent of the sculptural form". Aye right then.

After we had walked our fill of art, we returned via the Queen Studio Experience, a museum set in the Montreux's Casino Barrière, which previously housed the legendary Mountain Studios, the recording studios used by artists such as David Bowie, The Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin and Yes. The studio was at one time owned by Queen, who recorded 6 albums there between 1978 and 1995. The Cassino is probably best known for burning down during a Frank Zappa concert in 1971, when a fan with a flare gun got a bit excited and set fire to the wooden roof. Deep Purple were also recording in Montreux at the time and seeing the smoke from the fire billowing across Lake Geneva were inspired to compose "Smoke on the Water".

Afternoon coffee was accompanied by a delicious pastry with fresh, glazed raspberries but tested our cashless society approach to this holiday to the limit, when the café's card reader couldn't get a signal. As we had already eaten our fill, I considered it to be more their problem than mine and after a telephone discussion with IT support and switching the reader off then on again, everything turned out fine. It is perhaps one of the few positive legacies of the COVID pandemic that cash has lost its crown. It is certainly a far cry from travellers cheques and queuing at the post office for currency.

For our final treat of the day, we took the Funicular up Mt. Pèlerin. At 3,540 feet above sea level it is easily into the mountain classification, but with the summit covered in trees rather than snow and with Lake Geneva already at over 1200 feet, it looks more like a tall hill than a mountain. There are clusters of houses all way up the slope and the car soon filled with the excited shouts of school children returning home. The views of Lake Geneva and the towns of Montreux and Vevey below, with the backdrop of the French Alps across the water, were spectacular and we spent a lovely half hour sitting in the sun drinking it all in (the view - no wine involved).Leia mais