Fantastic trip to Switzerland
Our journey with my mother began, as always, with careful preparation. From the Internet, the stories of those who had already been in Switzerland and Bavaria were caught, a photo album about the Munich art gallery "Old Pinakothek" was studied, a film shot by the travel company "Feeria" about our route "Switzerland is paradise" was watched. My husband once again instructed on the topic "The nuances of photographing architectural objects, nature and people in different lighting conditions", and my mother and I bought ourselves a wonderful Columbia windbreaker under this bench (otherwise it can be cold in the mountains, but we, the poor, and nothing to wear). As you know, the expectation of a holiday is no less joyful than the holiday itself, so we had a pleasant time preparing for departure.
And this day - September 17.2006. - finally arrived.
The group, as usual, meets at the central railway station at the agreed place. The first thing that catches your eye is that there are a lot of elderly people in our group. On the one hand, it is nice that our Ukrainian grandmothers do not sit at home, but can afford a trip abroad, but on the other hand, the mobility of the group is noticeably reduced. Our guide's name is Alexander, and he is highly praised by both tourists and the management of the travel agency. And, as you know, a good guide largely determines the success of the tour.
So, the first day of the trip is a superficial acquaintance with the group, with the guide and the steady sound of the wheels of the train taking us to the Polish city of Przemysl.
Second day.
The train arrives exactly on schedule, but it turns out that the Przemysl station does not accept trains due to track repairs. Therefore, we leave one station earlier, run up and down the passages with suitcases at the ready to the train, and after 20 minutes we find ourselves at customs. Large posters hang in the customs building, urging not to import sausage and any meat there into the territory of the European Union. Oh, we look at each other, because everyone carries a s / c wand with them. What is a Soviet tourist without a jar of canned food and sausage sticks. Employees open their suitcases, lazily look inside, ask what we are carrying - only personal items, dobzhe ! , and calmly let us into the territory of Poland. No one notices the sausage lying on the very top, so we do without confiscation. We are accommodated in a bus, we have a long journey across Poland to the city of Bolesł awiec, where we have a hotel. Guide Alexander entertains us with interesting stories about Polish history, about its glorious representatives, modern life in the country, about poets, actors, artists. Anna Herman's voice is so heartbreaking that you want to cry.
We will again have to sit in the bus for a long time. According to the program, today is our first excursion around the city of Nuremberg, but the arrival time is about 16-17 hours, depending on the border crossing. The border takes us two hours, although there is no queue and we are the first. But the border guards fumble for a long, long time before collecting our passports, and then completely disappear somewhere. No screening, I guess they're in slow motion, just lazily and slowly stamping one stamp every ten minutes. This sleepy kingdom is annoying, but, alas, you can’t express claims. Finally, everything is over, and we, happy, are going to Nuremberg.
Oh Nuremberg! The city captivates from the first minutes. I must say that I love big cities, where the historical center occupies several blocks, where there are many cathedrals and fountains. I love to walk along some long street and wonder what awaits me around the corner. Accordingly, I don’t like small towns, where the center is two short streets, the inhabitants are proud of some stunted building of the 16th century, and the whole town can be walked around in an hour around the perimeter.
Entering the city, we drive past the Zippelin fields, but the group does not want to leave, alas, so we leave the Nazi part of the city's history aside. They take us to the ancient castle-residence of the Franconian rulers, beautifully built into the rock. Near the castle there is an observation deck with a marvelous view of the roofs and spiers. There are many half-timbered houses of the 15th century in the city, one of them has a sign indicating that this is the house of Albrecht Dü rer. Nearby, on the small square Tiergartnertorplatz, there is a large monument to Dü rer's hare.
There is a whole story with this Russian. Well, Dü rer drew himself an ordinary hare, quite naturally, but nothing special either. But the Germans began to rush about with this hare just like with an icon, the drawing was transported from city to city, crowds of people came to see the hare, a fashion appeared to hang copies of the "Hare" in every decent burgher's house. The ladies touched the watercolors with their hands. What for? Either it was believed that if you touch it, you will immediately become pregnant, or vice versa, you will get rid of an unwanted pregnancy... A window grate is reflected in the dilated pupil of a hare, which still serves as a pretext for various interpretations of hidden symbolism.
The drawing itself is stored in the Albertina Museum in Vienna, and the Nurembergers are trying to return the eared relic home. There are several monuments to the hare, but ours turns out to be a hare sitting in some kind of box and covered with hares on all sides.
In general, the city has many interesting monuments and fountains. For example, the fountain "Marriage Carousel". You need to go around the fountain in a circle, and figure after figure, all the incarnations of family life appear, from happy lovers to hating each other, old men who look like skeletons. Or the magnificent old fountain on the Market Square with many magnificent figures. A golden ring hangs on the lattice of the fountain, where the eye does not see a single joint. According to legend, the ring was made in the 13th century by an apprentice in love to impress the father of his beloved girl with the skill. We are regularly twisting this ring, looking for at least a hint of a joint, but we do not find it.
There are two interesting museums in the city - the Toy Museum (a must-visit) and the National German Museum (the largest museum in the world on German history, containing 2 million exhibits).
It is very pleasant to walk around Nuremberg. There are many old streets with beautiful houses, many squares with cathedrals and fountains, many richly decorated bridges. In the Cathedral of St. Sebald, one of the patrons of the city, I notice a lot of creepy figures and semi-sadistic scenes. Someone is sitting on someone, someone is eating someone, or is torturing someone in some other way. One of the doors of the cathedral is decorated with skulls, including those hanging upside down. Guide Alexander answers my question that this is Masonic symbolism. I don't understand it at all, but it makes a strong impression. Further travel shows that in many cathedrals in Switzerland there are dogs, fish, the goats of Baphomet and other figures in some kind of abnormal interweaving. There are so many of them that you can make a separate tour of Freemasonry and mysticism in German culture.
In the evening our group goes to the Barefoot Monk pub. The pub is large, but pretty crowded. So we sit in groups in empty seats. Instructed by Alexander, we make an order - pork shoulder with potato dumplings and the same sauerkraut and, of course, the famous Nuremberg sausages. We are happy because we are on vacation; long bus ride behind; we have vivid impressions of the city; and our busy day ends with a glass of dark thick flavored beer, which we wash down with crazy delicious food.
We dedicate the morning to a quick walk and buying souvenirs. Nuremberg is famous for its gingerbread, they are sold everywhere, both by weight and in gift boxes. Mom and I refuse to buy gingerbread, we need a hare. However, the souvenir shops are full of everything, but there are no hares. At all. Instead, I buy an angel for my home collection and a book about the city.
Everyone, we're leaving. Our path lies deep into Bavaria, to the castles of the last Bavarian king Ludwig II.
The bus goes up into the mountains and the road becomes very picturesque. Around are dense, I want to say dense, Bavarian forests, in which many white mushrooms grow, sold throughout Bavaria for 6 euros per tray. A variety of living creatures still feel at ease in these forests. Human activity is noticeable only by the ideal roadbeds and the well-groomedness of those small territories that people left for themselves to live.
Admiring the scenery outside the window, we drive into the village of Hohenschwangau, where the ancestral castle of the Bavarian kings of the same name and the fairy-tale castle of Neuschwanstein are located. Hohenschwangau Castle is being renovated, it is covered in scaffolding, which makes it difficult to photograph it. Our goal is the New Swan Castle, Neuschwanstein, towering over forests and lakes and leaning its white turrets into the sky. A special bus brings tourists to the castle, for which there is a decent queue. Our group manages to squeeze in along with numerous Chinese tourists, and the driver, despite being a German, does not pay attention to the obvious overload. The winding path up to the castle, the driver drives at breakneck speed, maneuvering around corners no worse than Schumacher.
You can admire the castle from several viewing platforms. The most beautiful is the bridge over the waterfall, from where you can see the whole castle and the vast lands around - mountains, lakes, forests and villages. It turns out that photography is not allowed in the castle. It's a shame. Each visitor is given an audio guide in their native language and is launched in groups accompanied by a museum employee. In each new hall, the employee turns on the audio guide, which is quite convenient, but attentive eyes do not give even the slightest opportunity to take an underground shot. The decoration of the castle is rather gloomy, every centimeter of the walls and ceiling is painted, huge figures of the German epic, glorified by Wagner in his operas, look from everywhere. In fact, Ludwig of Bavaria created this castle, being influenced by the music of his favorite composer, in order to perpetuate the heroes of folk legends. Dark narrow passages from hall to hall and the dark color of the walls and objects in it add gloominess to the castle. One of the corridors recreates a grotto in the rock, with menacingly overhanging blocks of stones. It turns out that outwardly the castle looks like a fairy-tale house of Snow White, and inside it looks like a dwarf dungeon.
We make the way back on foot, we have time and desire to stay longer among this majestic nature. The road winds, showing the castle from different angles, and it's very, very, very beautiful. I don’t want to leave here, because seeing Neuschwanstein Castle was my old dream, now realized.
We spend the rest of the day on the road. At the Swiss border, only our guide comes out, puts an entry stamp on the group visa, and we go further to Zurich. It is already deep evening, to the right of us, Lake Constance stretches for many kilometers, determined in the dark only by the lights of the embankments. In a quiet area of Zurich, we check into a hotel, no beer and sausages for the night. Sleep.
Our tour starts from the old part of the city. We walk along the quiet, still sleepy streets, stopping at small fountains. On one of the houses in a small alley there is a sign saying that, so to speak, the Fü hrer der Rusishen Revolution, grandfather Lenin, in our opinion, lived here for more than a year. An inscription in Gothic script on one of the 14th-century houses testifies that the first Swiss bank was located here. From the observation deck, a panorama of the city, the river and the lake opens, on the surface of which yachts, covered in blue, sway. The blue water of the lake, blue yachts, the gray stone of houses and the greenery of pines - a pacifying landscape captured by the soul and the camera. From the numerous windows of apartments and cafes comes the smell of roasting coffee. The townspeople wake up and prepare their favorite drink. However, some still sleep on the go, because their coffee is on fire, and the smell of burnt coffee haunts us for quite some time. Apparently, I will associate this city with this smell, like Nuremberg with the smell of sausages, Paris with the smell of fresh pastries, and Amsterdam with the smell of weed.
We go to the main cathedral of Zurich - Grossmü nster. This is my first time in a Protestant church, so I'm especially curious about the interior. Everything is quite ascetic, bare white walls, an organ, only stained-glass windows from decorations. For Protestants, the decoration of the cathedral is superfluous; here one should pray, not admire. Unlike Catholics, they live according to the principle - work first, then the church. Modern Swiss do not favor the church, the cathedrals are barely filled with believers.
The second major cathedral of Zurich - Fraumü nster, under renovation. There are beautiful stained glass windows by Marc Chagall, but we cannot see them.
In a small bank, the whole group changes money into Swiss francs, and it takes quite a long time. The guide dismisses us for free swimming, which is enough for a snack in a cafe and a walk along the main street of Zurich - Bahnhofstrasse. In my opinion, the street is nothing particularly remarkable. Just a major shopping street, like Andrá ssy Avenue in Budapest or Mariahilferstrasse in Vienna. I notice that in the windows of expensive shops furs dominate - fur coats, capes, bags trimmed with fur. There are no watch stores yet. Not really necessary, but curious.
There are two options for the afternoon. You can stay in Zurich and take a walk on your own, or you can go with a group to the Rhine Falls and the town of Schaffhausen. Both options are very attractive. I would like to walk around Zurich, because on the right bank of the Limat River, only Bahnhofstrasse has been examined. But I also want to see the waterfall. We choose the second. Still, we have a survey tour, so you need to see everything to the maximum.
Approaching the waterfall, we understand that we made the right decision. Roaring water from a height rushes down, washing the rock, and creates snow-white caps of foam. The waterfall is very wide, it can be viewed from different platforms on both banks of the river. Many stone steps lead to the observation decks, all the time up or down. You can go into the grotto behind the waterfall, but you need to move carefully on slippery stones. We get to the other side of the Rhine by boat, but we don’t get out, but we go further, to a rock standing in the middle of the river. Our boat deftly overcomes the turbulent current, but it is still amazing how it manages to moor so neatly at the rock, where the waterfall is especially powerful. A narrow staircase leads to the rock, two people can hardly disperse. As a result, we are one on one with the elements, water is raging around us, foam barrels are almost at our very feet. Splashes of water in the sun create a bright rainbow, and this can be captured by the camera.
We make the way back first on the boat, then up the stairs. This is where I manage to appreciate our pensioners. In vain I doubted the mobility of our group, since our grannies are the most brave grannies in the world - they succeed everywhere, they don’t lose anything and don’t forget, they don’t get sick, and they climb the mountains, even if they already have no strength, on one courage!
Finally, we go to Schaffhausen - the most medieval Swiss town.
Our walk starts at Munot Fortress. The fortress itself does not seem very interesting to me, but a wonderful rose garden is laid out here. Many varieties of roses bloom here, including rare ones. No one protects this beauty from tourists, so you can safely inhale the wonderful aroma. The fortress is surrounded by a moat where small roe deer live. They carefully watch the tourists, raising their glorious muzzles up and looking at us with large wary eyes. The entire panorama of the city opens from the fortress, and it is beautiful!
We go down and pass through the territory of the monastery of All Saints, where the famous bell with a broken edge, sung by Schiller, is located. Moving along the embankment, we find ourselves in the center, in the interweaving of picturesque streets and cozy squares. Many houses have ancient frescoes, geraniums bloom luxuriantly on the balconies. We walk, admiring shop windows and wrought iron bars, fountains and old signs. For the first time I really enjoy the beauty of a small town, its comfort and silence. In a restaurant on the main street, we order dinner - veal with a national potato dish - rö shti. We back it up with a glass of light beer.
With regret, we get on the bus and drive back to Zurich, to the hotel.
The next point of our program is Basel, the city of great chemistry and art. Indeed, the suburbs of Basel are a long line of plants and factories.
The first thing we see in the center is the "Fastnachtbrunnen" fountain, created by Basel native Jean Tengeli. By the way, the fountain on Stravinsky Square in Paris is also his work, but co-authored with Niki Saint Phalle. The principle of operation of both fountains is the same - black moving metal structures are scattered around the large pool and periodically shoot thin streams of water from hoses. The kinetic structures are reminiscent of randomly welded pieces of scrap metal found in a forgotten junkyard. Some rotate around their axis, thereby spinning a trickle of water. One of the designs has a large colander that sifts the water. My mother and I most of all like the design in which moving metal sticks with saucers at the ends scoop water from themselves. Imagination immediately draws a small animal, which quickly, quickly waves its paws, pushing away the incoming water.
In the city center, on the Market Square, is the Town Hall. This powerful structure made of dark red brick is the only one of its kind and is the main attraction of the city. The building is decorated with colored drawings, there are patios, balconies and turrets. In front of the Town Hall there is a market selling vegetables, cheeses, bread, flowers and souvenirs. Vegetables just beg to be in the frame, neat wooden boxes with strong broccoli inflorescences, bunches of carrots and celery, pumpkins of various shapes and colors please the eye. The counters are decorated with bouquets of sunflowers, in a word, a rural idyll.
The Rhine flows rapidly through the city, many stone bridges connect its banks. We, on the other hand, cross on a boat that moves from coast to coast without a motor, using the force of the current. This is also a kind of urban attraction.
Basel Cathedral, in my opinion, is unique. Inside, everything is standard - the central and two side naves, stained-glass windows and an organ. But along the entire outer perimeter of the cathedral there are many covered galleries with high lancet windows. The galleries create a kind of lace, leading either to the patio or to the front garden. In one of the galleries we see an imitation of a market stall made of metal. It contains a variety of fruits and vegetables that look quite natural, next to it are metal sacks with potatoes and eggplants and, for some reason, a drum with a skull lying on it.
Now we have free time, we are offered to visit a zoo or an art gallery. The group is accordingly divided into two parts. My mom and I definitely choose the Museum of Art.
The Basel Kunstmuseum is not very large, but it has a decent collection. His special pride is the world's largest collection of paintings by the Holbein family. In general, German painting is widely represented - the elder and younger Holbeins, Lucas Cranach, Albert Altdorfer, Albrecht Dü rer, Matthias Grunewald. The pearl is a stunning painting by Holbein Jr. "Dead Jesus in the tomb". In general, the museum has a bit of everything. For example, Delacroix, Rousseau, Sulfur, Van Gogh, Pizarro, Renoir, Corot, Degas. The second floor is dedicated to the art of the 20th century - Picasso, Chagall, Dali, Emil Nolde, Oskar Kokoschka, Edvard Munch, Braque, de Chirico and many others.
We have an hour and a half left, we need to have lunch somewhere. We joyfully stomp along the shopping street to the Market Square and carefully look at possible food outlets. There are shops around. There are coffee houses and rarely restaurants where we initially do not plan to go. After 15 minutes, we understand that we need to do something, we are running out of time. On the square we see McDonald's, everything, we will eat hamburgers. It turns out that there are large portions of salad with herbs, tomatoes, cucumbers, cheese, ham and eggs on sale. Great accompaniment to a fish burger. For those who are ready to throw a stone at me, I will say... well, it's convenient abroad, it's convenient. McDonald's in Europe is at every step, inexpensive, and in conditions of time pressure they are indispensable.
To the church of St. Elizabeth - the meeting place of the group, we arrive earlier than the appointed time. One of the side limits of the church, to our great amazement, is occupied by a small café . We can’t get past this, and my mother orders a cup of coffee, and I also have my favorite apple strudel.
The bus takes us from Basel to Bern. The road takes about an hour, and we find ourselves right at the bear pit. The bears are well-groomed and well-fed, and therefore quite lazy. Mom buys a special food, consisting of pieces of fruit and sticks of a special mixture, and the performance begins. One of the bears sits with its paw aside and catches the food thrown to it. He does this very cleverly, but if the piece flies far, he calmly ignores it. The second bear generally accepts offerings lying down, sometimes stretching its paws along the body, sometimes folding them touchingly on its stomach. Hit in the mouth - good, not hit - also good. Next to us is either a local bum, or a wonderful old man. He has a wheelchair with his belongings and a nice little dog. Mom stretches out her hand to her, and the dog, with all the canine zeal, simply hands herself over to her mother for petting. Grandpa is watching with a smile, saying something affectionately to her mother in German. Zero aggression, solid goodwill. By the way, the dog is clean, like hers, funny dressed in colored clothes and beads, the owner.
And there is beauty around. . . The Aare River makes a loop around the city, thus giving it great picturesqueness. Turning his head to the right and left, we go to the center. All houses are built of gray stone and decorated with colorful geraniums, which gives the city a unified style. The most striking feature of Bern are the arcades that stretch along all the houses on the central streets. In total, there are 6 km. In rainy weather, you can not take an umbrella and move only under the arches. There are a lot of fountains here, but all of them, I would say, look the same. And it seems that in all of Switzerland, fountains do not differ in variety. As a rule, this is a small pool, in the center of which there is a column with a colored figurine. Only the figurines differ, then a Moor, then a knight, then some kind of saint. True, a strange fountain was discovered in Bern, which is crowned with the figure of a fat man eating babies. Several babies hang from his belt, and one he savagely stuffs into his mouth. The fountain is called "Child Eater".
One gets the impression that the dark side of human nature spills out among peaceful and benevolent Swiss on fountains, walls of cathedrals and houses, often decorated with heartbreaking scenes. Another fountain I want to mention. On one of the roofs of the houses, large red palms are painted and a curved pipe sticks out, unexpectedly splashing streams of water on passers-by. Jokers, however, are Bernese.
On one of the squares, a folk festival is being prepared in honor of the local saint. But we are interested in a small ensemble playing alpine bugles. These are huge curved pipes that emit a characteristic sharp sound. It is impossible to hold such an instrument, it is much larger than its owner, so part of the pipe lies on the ground in a special stand. The spectacle is very interesting, gathering around a lot of people, including the Swiss themselves.
In my free time, my mother and I wander under the arches, which delight me. How beautiful and convenient it is, you can wander around the shops, you can sit under the arch at a table with a cup of aromatic coffee, watching the street. Under the arch, you can hide from the ubiquitous trams, which are apparently not visible in Bern. These two-car monsters rush along the narrow streets one after another, just do what you have time to step aside. It is noteworthy how the trams fit into the narrow spans of the towers protruding onto the pavement. I understand that the rails, I understand that everything is calculated, but every time it seems that this hulk is now crashing into the tower with all its might.
Our hotel is located in the center, near the railway station. So we have the opportunity to walk around the city all evening and look in the shops for Swiss knives as a gift for husbands and chocolate. I must say that there is a lot of chocolate in Switzerland, different, tasty and not very. The most famous brands are Lindt, Tablerone and Nestle. Lindt came to my taste, I remained indifferent to the milky and black Tableron, but I didn’t even try Nestle, you can buy it at home. But the white Tablerone is a thing! Usually indifferent to white chocolate, I am discovering a new pleasure. Confectionery shops sell chocolate by weight. Truffles made in the form of small balls with different fillings are very tasty, as well as white chipped chocolate bars, very densely covered with fruits and nuts. Unexpected taste of white chocolate with spices and red hot pepper. Chocolate in Switzerland is not cheap, like everything else, but we can’t resist buying... It’s better not to convert the total cost into native hryvnias : )
Our path lies in Geneva - the city is bright, joyful and so French that the heart skips a beat.
The tone is set by the huge Lake Geneva, which in French is called Leman. As large and beautiful are the expanses of water, so wide and architecturally impressive are the streets of Geneva. This city is strikingly different from its German counterparts - Basel, Bern and Zurich, and resembles Paris. And houses in the Art Nouveau style, and wide long boulevards, and some special spirit of celebration and fun. Indeed, the atmosphere in the city is as if the residents have just celebrated Christmas and are looking forward to the New Year. This is noticeable in the relaxed faces of people on the streets, in the elegant outfits of calmly strolling residents, in the carelessness and lack of efficiency in the movements of Genevans sitting in cafes and restaurants.
We also have a feeling of a holiday, and we no longer want to run around the city, looking for sights. I would like to take a leisurely walk through the streets, ride a sightseeing train through one of the many parks, stand on the embankment, admiring the Geneva Fountain. Nevertheless, we follow a guide to the places of historical glory of the city and listen with half an ear. This does not last long, and Alexander takes us to the hotel, because a big program is planned for the evening - a boat ride on Lake Geneva and dinner with the obligatory fondue. On the way to the hotel, Sasha tells us in detail about Swiss watches, about how the watch industry was born and developed in the country, and most importantly, about how to understand the numerous brands and how to choose a good watch for your wallet.
After leaving our things at the hotel, we go for a walk. Streets, houses - everything pleases the eye. Watch shops are like mushrooms after the rain. We go with mom to the nearest one and see our classmates trying on Longines and Tissots. We move away from the hotel, and go to another shop. What do we see - of course, classmates who draw up documents for the purchase of Tissot and Longines. Everything is clear, the "pyramidon" began in the group. Pyramidone my husband calls uncontrolled buying fever. Roman Kartsev had such a number when a Soviet man in the street got into a closed warehouse where everything is available. And here he is, stunned by the diversity, grabs everything and in large quantities, including the completely unnecessary medicine Pyramidon.
There were three such "pyramidons" during our trip. The first happened in Germany, at a small gas station, where Sasha advised me to buy very tasty apples at a very small price. Apples were sold in 2 kg nets. The whole group, including me, bought, so to speak, on the road, these really delicious apples. But my mother doesn’t eat apples, and it turned out to be embarrassing for me to crunch them for the whole bus. So a day later I put the net in a suitcase, and carried these 2 kg the whole trip from the hotel to the bus and back. The apples were safely eaten at home, in Kyiv. The second "pyramidon" was a watch in Geneva, and the third - cheese in the village of Gruyè res. I don’t know how to call the purchase of chocolate, which is carried out in almost every city. Either a "superpyramidon", or completely left without a name.
We take a boat ride along the lake. Well-maintained mansions, parks and green lawns float past us. A little Mermaid looks out of the water, and in the center of the lake reigns the Geneva Fountain - a powerful jet of water, soaring up to 140 meters.
In the evening we go to a restaurant on the embankment, fondue is waiting for us. There are several options to choose from - cheese, meat and chocolate. We team up with a lovely couple from Kharkiv and order cheese fondue and a bottle of white wine for four. Cheese happily gurgles in a saucepan and smells amazing. It is a blend of Gruyè re and Emmental, the most traditional Swiss cheeses. The saucepan is quite heavy, but the four of us quickly deal with it. A thick crust of cheese remains at the bottom of the saucepan, and this is the most delicious thing in fondue.
Full and satisfied, we walk along the embankment. Evening Geneva is very beautiful. Brightly lit houses are reflected in the water of the lake, creating colorful panels. So, admiring, we reach the hotel. I need to go to bed, tomorrow will be the busiest day of the whole trip. Good night, beautiful Geneva, bon nuit.
We leave Geneva and the driver drives us around the center for one last look at the city. We say goodbye to the Geneva fountain, to boulevards and houses. But not with the lake, because we have to drive along it all day. We have the Swiss Riviera ahead of us.
We leave the city through the quarter of international organizations. The guide gives us five minutes for a photo. But, in my opinion, there is nothing to photograph - a few scattered skyscrapers mixed with old houses in the style of socialist realism. Flags flutter like a bright spot over the building of the League of Nations, and this is the only decoration of the quarter.
Our path lies past vineyards along the lake. Some fantastic views begin. Resort towns replace each other, and in each one you want to go out and take a walk. Outside the windows, elegant streets and elegant embankments with idle pedestrians flicker. It seems that I am beginning to be shocked by this beauty, I want to shout: "Stop. Leave me here forever. " I already love all this, and these small towns, and these marvelous embankments, and these palm trees and flowers, and this beauty exudes such peace, such a convenient and comfortable life...
We are entering Lausanne. Thanks to the natural landscape, the city is located on terraces, which distinguishes it from other large cities. Our tour starts from the very top, at the cathedral. On the way to it, we always stop at numerous observation platforms with magnificent panoramas. The city sleeps, today is Sunday. Only homeless people do not sleep, of which there are surprisingly many, and at the same time the garbage they leave behind. It somehow looks wild in this island of bourgeois life. The guide explains that the city authorities feed the homeless every day and therefore they have an eternal gathering in Lausanne. For them, as well as other outcasts, special boxes have been installed in public toilets, where syringes used after drugs are dumped.
We enter the cathedral, but I hardly notice anything, because the views of Lausanne overlap all other views in their beauty. From street to street you can go down the old covered stairs, which is what we do. Time is short, the guide calls us to the bus, and I wholeheartedly realize the biggest drawback of the bus tour - the inability to stay longer in the place you like. Blocks on the terraces fly past the windows of the bus, and here we are on the Usha embankment. Now you can walk to the Olympic Museum. The museum is located in a beautiful park, where a wide variety of sculptures are scattered. Some sculptures exalt the beauty of the human body, such as the athlete's torso, which consists of three parts, periodically moving apart and rejoining. There are funny sculptures, for example, a man in a bowler hat under an umbrella, from which water flows. There is a grand lady with impressive bodies. I wonder what hypostasis of the Olympic movement it symbolizes? There is also a pacifist monument - a revolver, the barrel of which is tied in a knot. The museum itself is a mixture of stands and huge monitors, which demonstrate the Olympic victories of different times. The museum has a large souvenir shop where you can buy bags, T-shirts, etc. for a lot of money. with Olympic symbols. My mom and I can't resist buying my brother a T-shirt with Mexico City olympics as a gift.
The next miracle on our way is the charming town of Vevey.
We unload from the bus on a large square, the main decorations of which are an old castle and a traditional French carousel. The final goal of the tour is the monument to Charlie Chaplin on the waterfront. The route is simple, so my mother and I separate from the group and go for a walk on our own. As a matter of fact, there is only one promenade here - the embankment and the streets parallel to it. We walk along the street, which is an attraction in itself. Architectural decorations of houses, signboards, cozy corners with cafe tables - all this breathes with the charm of a resort town, relaxation and bliss. We turn to the embankment. And here is Charlie - in his invariable bowler hat and with a cane. He timidly looks into the distance, clutching an iron rose to his chest. Someone took pity on Charlie and put into his hand a living cream rose bud, the bushes of which grow right there on the embankment. So he remains in the pictures, showing through the park flowers with a delicate bud at the heart.
We walk along the embankment, accompanied by swans floating in the water. In general, for Swiss cities, swans and ducks are as commonplace as doves and sparrows are for us. In any place where there is a water surface, these beautiful birds are sure to live. Swans are practically not afraid of people and often take treats from their hands. Therefore, all tourists stuff their bags with rolls and, at every opportunity, feed these magnificent beggars. Mom and I also can’t pass by and rummage through our purses in search of a lying bread.
An indoor pavilion was built on the square near the city theater. And today, an exhibition and sale of works by local craftsmen is organized for residents. We are happy to join the crowd of Swiss and wander from counter to counter. They sell airy women's hats, artistic castings, original floor lamps, mirrors and clocks made from improvised materials, and ceramics. It's nice to feel like a resident of Vevey for a second, who came to the exhibition of his neighbors on Sunday. By the way, the prices for all products are quite affordable even for us, poor tourists.
We get on the bus and go to the pearl of the Swiss Riviera - the town of Montreux. At the beginning of the embankment, we are dismissed for free flight and given a couple of hours of time for this. After passing the first few meters, we involuntarily stop. Before us is Eden. I have never seen such beauty before. To the left are houses and hotels built in the Belle Epoque style, which means they are not just beautiful, but luxurious. The entire embankment is buried in greenery and flowers. What is not here. Pines, firs, cedars, pines, palm trees, many different bushes and bushes unknown to me. And the flowers are some kind of riot of colors. All colors and shades, shapes and sizes. Shocked, we wander along the embankment, forgetting everything. There are small sculptures here and there. There are also monuments, for example, to Freddie Mercury or Vladimir Nabokov on the lawn in front of the Montreux Palace Hotel. On the same lawn