A Well Kept Man

Chambermaid here...sorry this post is a few weeks late, but as they say in the business "Le fromage c'est vieux, mais je le linge plié et repassé votre pantalon."

Another weekend, another opportunity to hit the slopes. This past Saturday we drove up to Gstaad (it's pronounced like Tony the Tiger says Great, instead of ending with "rate" end it with "staaaaaaaaad" like you do when the doctor asks you to open you mouth so he can have a look at your uvula), which is a ski-town about one and a half hours from our place. Gstaad is one of the bigger ski resorts we have been to so far, which enabled us to ski for quite a long time. We managed to ski for five hours (we did take a short break for lunch) and saw some beautiful alpine scenery. The nicest feature of Gstaad (at least in our minds) was the way it was designed. Most resorts you have to take multiple lifts to get to the peaks, and then you can only ski partway down. In Gstaad, you get to ride all the way up, and then all the way back down. This meant some killer thigh burning, but it was definitely worth it.

I would also rate most of their easy slopes as medium difficulty (at least compared to U.S. standards). We tried to go down a medium (or red) slope, which proved to be the downfall of Alli (literally). Neither of us are particularly fond of moguls, and yet this red run happened to be littered with them. I went down first and managed to make it past the worst of it unscathed (unless you count my new found ability to do the splits...), Alli on the other hand managed to wipe out pretty seriously. She knocked her ski goggles off, as well as one of her contact lenses when her ski pole crashed into her face as she fell to the ground. Thankfully she was ok as I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to climb all the way back up to where she was due to the incline. A helpful German asked Alli if she needed assistance (in German, of course), and she managed to shoo him away with her years of German training (she actually doesn't really know any German other than yes, no, please and thank you. So I think she basically told him "Nein, danke" or "no thank you"). Bruised but not broken (she also managed to find her contact and put it back in...), we continued on through what became "out of bounds" skiing to get back to the easier sections. You can tell when you are not where you should be when the cows start looking at you funny and you are actually skiing in someones back yard.

Karma would choose to manifest itself when I bit it not once, but twice in areas of the mountain where not even a three year old learning to ski should fall (although in my defense the second time I never stopped rolling and after skidding for fifty feet, I got back up and pretended nothing happened, except Alli witnessed it). We had a wonderful day, and can't wait until our next ski adventure. Hopefully the Alps will get some new snow this week as most of the resorts are starting to get a bit icy and crunchy, which makes for less than enjoyable conditions.

It's Alli guest blogging because my Well Kept Man failed to pick me up at work (he borrowed our car today to buy groceries in France). Needless to say, I had to find my own way to the border to retrieve said car and the Well Kept Man (but not necessarily in that order).  Upon my arrival, I noticed the Well Kept Man was none too happy...

the Fugitive (formally known as A Well Kept Man, but not to be confused with Harrison Ford's blockbuster character) is currently awaiting a pardon from outgoing President George W. Bush either due to the Fugitive's charming good looks or to the sensitive Top Secret information he has about the whereabouts of twelve hamburgers (this will make sense in a minute, I promise).  FYI - We don't have pictures from this adventure as they were confiscated for the Fugitive's trial.  Now the Fugitive can tell you his side of the story as he was released on house arrest.

A Well Kept Man was detained at the Switzerland / France border...details to follow as soon as more information is received.

Alli and I marked our return to Switzerland by enrolling in French lessons at a local school (it's really a business, but since we are learning, I am calling it school.  This would explain why I dread Tuesday and Thursday evenings...I never seem to enjoy school.  I am always worried I won't have my homework done or something.  I guess that's why I have been having so many high school and college flashback dreams lately, or it could be because I discovered Facebook, but who knows?).  Now my French is basic, and by basic I mean I can say fish, chicken, house, and ask for a carafe of water at dinner.  Aside from that, I am fairly inept despite my tall tales of department store flirtation and taking pictures of tourists (actually, if you ask Alli I am quite good...I think I just have a confidence problem when it comes to speaking in foreign tongues; if I only had a little tongue of fire over my head, perhaps that fear would go away....).

Alli and I made our second ski trip last weekend to Villars-Gryon, an area about an hour from our apartment. The weather below 1000 meters was dull and gray, but as soon as we crossed through the clouds (which I never seem to tire of) we were treated to clear skies and an inviting sun. After parking at the base we trekked up to the gondola (about 400 m or so) in our ski gear, boots and all, to buy our day passes. The nice thing about skiing in Switzerland is the prices tend to be fairly reasonable (relatively speaking) because you have so many options of competing mountains. A day of skiing for the two of us is under $100 USD, which you would be hard-pressed to match at a comparable resort in the United States (I'm thinking in the Rockies, Lake Tahoe area, and Utah). Also, our pass allowed us access to the adjoining resort of Les Diablerets, which took about 20 minutes of skiing and chairlifts to reach.

We had a wonderful day of skiing with our highest peak topping at 2120m (6955 ft, or 1.3 miles high). Some of the runs were extremely long, which induced some lovely burning sensations in the thigh and calf areas. No mishaps were reported aside from the one time I looked back to see if Alli had wiped out, causing me to wipe out (very briefly, nobody saw it happen, so it really didn't happen...). We definitely needed the off day that followed as our legs weren't in any shape to walk, let alone ski. We hope to make a few more runs in the mountains before our big ski week in Zermatt towards the middle of March, which if nothing else will give me more opportunity to wipeout and build up some padding in the form of contusions.

One thing that amuses me about skiing here is the contradictory technology usage. On the one hand, our lift tickets are snazzy RFID cards that you just put in a pocket and wave near a sensor to let you on a lift. On the other hand, a majority of the lifts are the old fashioned kind where you hang on to an overhead cable as it pulls you up the mountain (Picture a pick-ax attached to a rope that on the rope end connects to an overhead cable system that pulls you up the mountain, and the pick-ax end goes between and behind your legs to reduce the amount of holding on you have to do...There's also a variant of the pick-ax where it is replaced by the equivalent of salad plate. Would it hurt them to at least make it dinner plate size?). I find this odd as the Swiss have some of the best ski chair technology in the world (as evidenced by ski adventures in Utah, Montana, Colorado, etc.) but they don't seem to use it much in their own backyard. It kind of makes you wonder...

Occasionally I drive over to France after meeting Alli for lunch (occasionally being twice but that's not my point) to pick up cheaper groceries (really just meat as it is affordable here, and affords us the opportunity to supplement our pork-laden diet with beef).  Last week on one such trip, after I had managed to fill my cart with various cuts of bovine, I headed over to the checkout area of the store.  Now this store had roughly thirty checkout lines, so you can imagine it as the size of a Super Walmart (but without the semi-retired greeters and annoying smiley face signs everywhere).  My first clue as to my adventure should have been the fact that I was in France, a somewhat curious country...but I was in a good mood as I knew I would soon be the proud owner of high quality beef at a price much more in-line with expectations.

I love garlic.  It is one of my favorite food-stuffs, especially when caramelized.  Last night I decided that since Alli wouldn't be home for dinner due to a work function, I would make a garlic soup for my meal that I have been wanting to make (also aware that Alli didn't want to eat it so it made perfect sense).  The soup was very mild, but with a pleasant garlic taste (the soup also had egg which acted as a thickener, chicken stock, and a small amount of vinegar).  Long story short, it was an amazing soup and I look forward to making it again.

While on the subject of interesting stories in the airport, I would like to report on a rather serious matter that occurred on our way back to the United States for Christmas.  We invited Lenny (the Lion) with us to the United States as he hasn't yet been there and very much wanted to see the majestic lakes of Minnesota and the unique mitten shaped state of Michigan.  He was quite vociferous that he should tag along as he claimed he had "business" to attend to in the U.S. and we were the only way he could "meet up" with his "client."

As his face is hard to resist we allowed him to come along in our backpack as we weren't about to shell out $1,000 for his ticket, let alone deal with the customs nightmare of importing a lion into the U.S.. (How does one end a sentence when the word itself is an abbreviation?  Do you utilize one period and have it work for both the punctuated word and the end of the sentence, or do you utilize two periods?  I chose the latter, although neither look correct.)  Little did we know that Lenny's plan were much more nefarious than we imagined. 

 

Upon arriving in the U.S., Lenny immediately ran into trouble with the U.S. Border Patrol official.  Apparently we let Lenny out of the bag too early and he was immediately spotted and sequestered for additional questioning.  Upon his interrogation, it was revealed that Lenny was importing fine Swiss chocolate into the United States which in itself is not a problem.  The problem was in the amount he was trafficking, which was in excess of ten kilos of pure cocoa in powder, bar, and nugget form (the Customs officials chose to ignore the Gummy Bears as they were recently legalized for "medicinal" purposes).  He was also carrying a Swiss pocket knife for "protection" which was in violation of international lion law.  As you can see from the photographs, Lenny had quite the cache of Cailler chocolate.

As we didn't wish to see all of this chocolate go to waste (or worse, being detained as evidence in a trial), Alli and I vouched for the possession of the chocolate and claimed it as gifts.  Being U.S. citizens we were allowed to keep the chocolate (which was handed out as gifts for Christmas) but there was nothing we could do for Lenny.  (By the way, if you were a lucky recipient of said chocolate please keep in mind that Lenny's "clients" may come looking for their "delivery" in the next few weeks.  I encourage you to "destroy" the evidence through any means necessary, including but not limited to consumption.  Chocolate facials although intriguing, are not worth the effort and potential face licking by companion animals such as dogs, cats, and inquisitive spouses.)

Lenny wound up spending the two weeks while we were in the States in a federal prison (aka The Zoo) where he apparently recanted his misdeeds and was freed on the condition he return to Switzerland upon our exit from the United States.  Thankfully they also agreed to transfer him from Minneapolis (our point of entry) to Detroit (our point of exit) so we didn't have to backtrack to reclaim him (I figured I'd close any loopholes in my story to avoid showing up on an episode of Mythbusters).  We don't condone the actions of our friend Lenny, although we do condone the delicious morsels of chocolatey goodness he was carrying.

Disclaimer: This story is completely fictitious and in no way represents the actual persona and character of Lenny the Lion.  He is a valued member of society, one who brings hope, cheer, comfort, and laughter to all in his presence.  This story was merely used as an example of creative writing for those out there in grades 6-12 whom need inspiration for that homework assignment that has been slowly approaching its due date.

As if traveling across six time zones wasn't enough, we had a very interesting end to our travel back to Switzerland from the United States.  After spending roughly 17 hours in airports and planes we arrived in Geneva safely.  Alli went off to get the car rental, and I waited for our luggage.  Upon getting the luggage, I proceeded to find Alli where after a few minutes of wading through a very busy airport, located her and we started walking towards the car rental shuttle.  Unfortunately, we were forced to wait as there was a "incident" unfolding in the car rental check-in area.

One of the most exciting events of 2008 was the addition of a new reader to the blog (bringing my total readership to at least two people if you include my dad).  I am proud to again be an uncle as my brother and sister-in-law welcomed their first child on December 6th, Jackson William Seeber (I now have a nephew and a niece, both living in Chicago which will make visiting much easier).  I plan to spoil him once I am back in the U.S. long enough for him to notice, but for now he will have to rely on exciting tales from the internet.

Ok, well perhaps this particular individual isn't really able to read this blog, but surely he will be online before long and then I will have another reader (I think his generation is able to surf the internet before they are able to walk and talk...seriously.  My nine year old sister has more technology in her bedroom then I encountered in four years of electrical engineering...sadly though I know how and why everything works).  I also promised my sister-in-law I would not exploit him on the internet with adorable baby photos and YouTube videos, nor would I create a Facebook profile for him (do they have MySpace for babies?).  She did begrudgingly give me permission to post one photo of him here, but that will be all.  As you can tell from the picture he has red hair, and extremely long fingers (he may also appear to have trouble breathing but that could be because I am incompetent at holding babies).  I'm not sure what this means but hopefully it equates to a 100 mph fastball and taking good care of his favorite uncle (at least on his dad's side).

I miss America already...

Merry Christmas from Switzerland!

We are off to the United States (first time on American soil since July 8, unless you count that trip to Costco in England)!  Make an extra tray of ice cubes, make a run to the butcher (any cut will do, but I prefer a nice ribeye), and be ready to speak nothing but English.  You may also want to take away our credit and ATM cards as six months of overpriced goods and services will be met with reckless abandon.  (Maybe you should buy a bunch of Costco stock before we land, I have a feeling they are going to wind up exceeding their 4th Quarter expected earnings.)

This is Lenny.  Lenny is a lion with a zipper pouch on his back for storing things (like Medtronic implantable devices...thanks to Jennifer for allowing us to adopt Lenny from her, you made the right choice!).  Lenny works at Medtronic with Alli, although he recently relocated to the apartment where he doesn't seem to do much except pose for pictures and cause trouble.  Lenny has become the unofficial pet as our dog Hildi is currently living in Michigan with my family (don't worry Hildi, you aren't being replaced).  We aren't really sure what Lenny does for a living, but we assume it is legal (this is called "foreshadowing").

Madrid's Christmas markets were peculiar in the fact that it seemed that every day a new one appeared were there was none the day before. The main market was in the Plaza Mayor, and contained mostly items for Nativity scenes and decorating the house. Unlike Barcelona, Madrid did not have weird traditions such as the Caganer. The crowds were also substantially less, um, crowded.  Various other parts of the city sported artisan Christmas markets (with beeswax candles, trinkets, bowls, etc.), gourmet food, as well as normal items that one might purchase for Christmas. If nothing else, the Madrid Christmas market scene appeared more like a giant farmer's market/craft fair/antique road show spread throughout the plazas and streets. I think the Madrileños were more interested in the national Christmas pastime of Spain....the Christmas Lottery. The most interesting food item was not the hot roasted chestnuts (we've covered them previously, but if you missed the post...stay away from the hot roasted chestnuts) but the roasted sweet corn and grilled sweet potatoes. They were as pervasive as the Serrano hams hanging in the carnicerias (butcher shops).

The Christmas Lottery in Spain, or Sorteo de Navidad or Lotería de Navidad, is one of the biggest lotteries in the entire galaxy (I am fairly confident the Martians and Venusians have rather insignificant lotteries). According to my sources, this lottery started in 1812 as means to alleviate boredom following the Crusades. While the top payout is no larger than a traditional lottery (with top prizes in the millions of Euros), the total pool of money is well into the billions of euros (that's a lot of churros!)!!

Every day as I walked around Madrid, hundreds of people would be lined up around the booths selling the tickets. I counted one line with well over 200 people, and the lines seemed to be there all day. Reporters were interviewing the various citizens trying to figure out what they would do with their winnings, and while it wasn't easy for me to understand everything they were saying it seemed that most planned on buying a retirement home in The Villages. (I really don't know what they were going to buy, I made that last part up to see if Alli's Aunt and Uncle really do read this blog as often as they say they do.)

The lottery is fairly complex but there are multiple prizes so instead of one person winning the billion dollar pool, many people share the prizes. It's kind of like socialism for lotteries if that makes sense. I recommend going out onto the internet to find out the specifics of the lottery. Madrid's general Christmas feel seems mostly to center around the Christmas Lottery, with the whole baby Jesus thing coming secondary. Especially this year due to the World-Wide Economic issues I think more people are investing (foolishly) in lottery tickets. Sure, some will win big, but for most it will merely be a waste of good money. (I'll go put away my soapbox now).

The Barcelona Christmas Market, or Fira de Santa Llúcia was one of the best markets I have been to thus far. The ambiance and atmosphere truly made it an exceptional marketplace. The streets of Barcelona were packed with people looking for the perfect items for their Nativity scenes. The biggest difference with this particular Christmas market was the lack of trinkets and knick-knacks. Instead of going to a store like Target or Christmas-Decorations-R-Us, the Catalans (aka people living in and around Barcelona) shop at these Christmas markets to find the perfect baby Jesus, as well as goats, sheep, Wise Guys, and the lot. One could find anything from a very North African scene, to the barn-like Nativity most of us are used to.

Booths had basically one of about five or six things. The first was the Nativity setting and associated paraphernalia. Trees, straw, moss, pebbles, mangers, huts, coves, caves, palaces, and saw dust filled about 10% of the stalls. I was impressed by the variety and creativity of birth-scenes for Jesus. The next booths contained every imaginable size, shape, and look of Nativity figures. The biggest were probably around the size of a Barbie doll, the smallest were around the size of your thumb (if your thumb is about two inches long). These booths represented closer to 25-40% of the stalls. The stalls containing live trees, mistletoe, and holly decorations represented another 10% or so (we are now up to 45-60% of the marketplace so far). About 15% had other Christmas decorations of the commercial variety (Santa Claus stuff, red bows, lights, tinsel, ornaments, etc.). The remaining stalls were dedicated to very Catalan items.

I suppose every culture and region of the world has their own Christmas traditions, mostly revolving around the same central theme of either Santa Claus or the Baby Jesus. Barcelonians (I think I just made up a word) have two very unique traditions. They are related, although they are different. The first will be described here, the second will be described in a future posting. In the Nativity scenes of those who describe themselves as Barcelonians or Catalan, there exists a curious figure known as the Caganer. I will not translate this word as it is a PG-13 word, but for the sake of information I shall indicate that it is a figure that represents fertility and equality. Loosely translated it means the defecator. As you can see from the picture (above left) you can see that it is aptly named (although I have chosen not to show an extreme closeup, even though it may produce some teenage giggles. Feel free to do an internet search for this item, although I claim no responsibility for the content you may find). Catalans hide one of these somewhere in their Nativity scenes and children apparently enjoy trying to find it. Truly an interesting custom.  My favorite is either the Barack Obama caganer or the Smurf ones...tough choice.

I would rate this Christmas Market as a very strong 8.5 out of 10. It does lose a little bit for the lack of food related Christmas cheer (e.g. no mulled wine nor cinnamon toasted almonds, nor Spanish-related Christmas foods) and for the constant feeling that someone is going to try and pick your pocket. The crowds were very intense and one couldn't really walk, it was more of a shuffle. Either way, I would recommend a visit to Barcelona's Fira de Santa Llúcia if you happen to be in the area around Christmas time. The various plazas around the city also have Nativity scenes set up, and there are many lights and decorations which give the city a definite Christmas feel.

While Alli was off in Dusseldorf, Germany for two days, I decided to drive up to Luzern, Switzerland for the evening to check out their Christmas market. Luzern is about a two hour drive from our apartment, so I decided it was a nice afternoon/evening trip to keep me occupied while Alli was away. After driving the two hours to get there, I immediately went over to the area of the Luzern Christmas market. After spending about twenty minutes trying to determine if I was in the right location (I was), I decided that this was the absolute worst Christmas market I have ever encountered. It was in the train station, and was really quite disappointing. Perhaps there was another in the city streets somewhere, but the forty to fifty booths failed to meet my expectations. So much so that I decided that no pictures should be taken, and that the evening must be reclaimed for other purposes.

So I ventured back into the streets of Luzern to check out some of its more famous sights. The first stop was the Dying Lion Monument. This monument was carved into the face of this rock to honor the Swiss guards that were massacred in 1792 while defending the Tuileries palace in Paris during the French Revolution. It is one of the most powerful, emotion evoking monuments I have ever seen. This monument alone is worth driving all the way to Luzern.

After spending a few moments admiring the monument and remembering the Swiss guards, I proceeded back to the city to see its famous covered walks/bridges across the river. These pedestrian walk-ways are very old. The chapel bridge (Kapellbrücke) was built in 1333, although much of it burned in 1993 and had to be rebuilt. It is a very interesting walk-way as on the inside are various paintings depicting Luzern's history (dating from the 17th century).

My highlight of the evening came when I was walking along the bridge and the sound of a band in the distance continued to grow louder and louder. After waiting a few minutes, a group of musicians leading about 500 people came across the bridge and continued towards a performance hall nearby. It was pretty fun to follow them and enjoy the jazzy sounds of the pipers as they played in the cold air of this December evening. Truly a memorable experience. Even though the Christmas market was a bust I found Luzern to be a delightful town and hope to get back again before we leave. The Christmas Market in the train station gets an F...although I have since learned that there is another one in a plaza in the city which probably would have scored higher. Oh well...

I apologize for the lack of posting...I was in Spain and then Germany for the last week without access to the computer.  I will promptly get my act together and blog at least every day this week until Saturday, when we travel back to the U.S.  At that point I hope to blog sporadically while in Minnesota and Michigan.

Alli and I are out of town for the next five days.  America gets Alli, Spain gets Mark.  I will be in Barcelona Sunday through Tuesday afternoon, then Madrid from Tuesday evening through Thursday evening.  If needed, Alli will be at her mom's in Minnesota. (sorry, no website link for her mom...)