A Well Kept Man

I again embarked on my quest to have a better tan than George Hamilton by taking another long bike ride (arms, legs, and face are great....unfortunately I also have the world's best farmer tan, oh well). Today I wandered towards Alli's work and then down by the lake. I must have circled Medtronic at least two or three times before the security became suspicious and made me leave (just kidding, that didn't really happen). I forgot to pack a water bottle so I was forced to forage for nourishment in countryside.

In every little town around here are public wells that in some cases date back to the early 19th century (I am sure the springs themselves are much older than that, just the masonry has changed). Much to my chagrin once I realized that I was a wee bit parched every well I came across was label "Eau Non Potable" (French for "Cow's Bath Water"). Undaunted I pressed on until I found myself in a grove of apple trees. I was lucky to 'find' a couple of apples that nobody seemed to be using (judging by the number of apples on the ground and size of the specimens still clinging to the trees, I didn't seem to think anyone would miss these two).

They weren't the tastiest apples (pommes) on the planet but they were juicy enough to refuel my reserves for the ride home. In somewhat unrelated news (loosely related because if I actually had a job I couldn't have such wonderful biking adventures) I also applied for two jobs in the past week, one with Medtronic which they basically told me I was extremely overqualified for (which wasn't a surprise as it was mostly an administrative assistant job without the lipstick), and the other with Nestle (in their operations strategy group). This position would actually be something I am qualified for but we shall see if they feel the same way. I can't say it's easy finding jobs to apply for around here, and there is definitely a bit of reluctance on my part as I am still not sure I want to be here for the long term (i.e. more than a year). However, should we decide to stay I will have to derive some income lest Alli trade me in for some French speaking Duke from Anjou.

When I talk to people back home in the States, they often wonder how we are doing with this transition and are we doing ok...for what it's worth, last night I had a weird dream where I was playing cards with Angelina Jolie, Brad Pitt, and Sydney Pollack. I don't know what this means but most certainly that I am having to hear Alli complain about a lack of being able to read People magazine, and that I'm not very good at cards (Angelina by the way was very impressive....at cards...Mr. Pollack was beginning to regret sitting down at the table with me as I was constantly asking Brad for advice on what I was supposed to do next).

Long story short; if I am able to have such vivid, albeit awkward dreams then things must be going ok as I am sleeping well and I'm not stressing about things that can't be changed. Later on in that same dream I was dressed up as Mr. Wilson (ala Dennis the Menace) while posing for a promotional poster for the upcoming holiday season (although I looked more like Walter Mathau with a stogey). Don't worry, I'm not on anything...just finally feeling 'home' as Alli described it last night when we arrived back at our apartment after an afternoon adventure (we went on a 2.5 hour bike ride about 45 minutes north of Lausanne through a bunch of farmers fields, very pastoral). Our first visitors arrive on Saturday so we are excited to welcome them...

Having rained nonstop for the last two days, I awoke to a cool, yet sunny morning and decided today would be a great day for a ride (I'm guessing Alli was probably hoping I would get out of the house as well as she is tired of me getting to take naps while she works hard saving Medtronic from incongruent pricing policies for medical device sales across European countries). It's been a couple weeks since I've taken a serious bike ride (most of my bike rides are just in and around Lausanne trying to find all of the things I haven't seen yet) so today felt like a good, long ride day. I tried to ride down to Vevey once, but was turned back due to the threat of inclement weather (or at least that is what I'd have you believe...).

Today I went all in and pedaled my way down to Vevey (I made it back as well...how else would you be reading this?). I probably exercised away about 5300 kilojoules (1200 calories) today on the roughly 44 km ride (~27ish miles), but I have no way of actually verifying the energy exerted, so you'll have to take my word for it (unless you can correlate the depth of the salt on my skin left by sweating with work performed; I'll leave this task to someone with a PhD).

Speaking of saddles, I didn't realize my bum is made of Tempur-Pedic Memory Foam (the same stuff they use on the Space Shuttle to remember where the Tang container goes when they are done with it). I am actually typing this post standing up to allow the dents in my butt to change from concave to convex once more (I know what you're thinking, let's pretend for the sake of humor that I do actually have a derrière).

This part of Switzerland is wine country so the entire ride consisted of winding my way through vineyards, with the beautiful sun-kissed lake and Alps being the other noteworthy feature. It's funny because I see these giant mountains everyday and I tend to forget they are there until I get a day like today where I can see every snow-topped peak and rocky summit. We (me and the Mrs.) are so thankful for this experience and undoubtedly will wistfully look back upon these days in our rocking chair days and fondly recall the views, food, and exciting adventures (ok, I'm just blatantly trying to make you all jealous...is it working?).

It finally stopped raining (after three days, I was beginning to wonder if I would be able to keep my incredible George Hamilton tan going), so I hopped on my bike for a cathartic ride (see map at left for route and elevation). I have yet to take a route north of the city, so I decided today would be a good day for it. The wind was a bit of a nuisance (I saw a barn from Kansas flying by) but I managed. After climbing up through Lausanne, I found myself in beautiful countryside, complete with farms and meadows, a stray cat (he wasn't very interested in my efforts to communicate, as he probably reads my blog on the weekends and thinks I'm a snob) and an airstrip. Being somewhat winded from the climb (both from the change in elevation and the constant force of the wind pressing against my giant upper body), I stopped to watch a young whipper-snapper taking flight lessons.

I figured it would be cool to watch him take off with the instructor out towards Lake Léman and the Alps (I also figured there should be a witness in case something went awry). I truly am fortunate to be able to witness some of the little things in life that so many people miss (farmers plowing their fields, cows grazing, roadside produce stands). I continued my ride and connected with God (He told me it was the Holy Spirit making all the wind) and enjoyed a peaceful ride out in the country. There are some quaint little towns around here and riding through them only helps me to see how awesome this place is and how I feel that next summer will come all too quickly. My ride continued through a small forest with some towering pines and other leafy trees (I'm guessing oak trees by the amount of acorns on the ground), then back through the countryside towards Lausanne.

I am now at the point where I think I could ride just about anywhere (within a 20 mile radius of our apartment) and be ok in terms of stamina. The hills aren't so daunting, and my calf muscles are now the size of a large grapefruit...(tragically the rest of my legs are still toothpick in size so I guess I look like a martini garnish from the waist down). We head off to Ireland next week on Thursday so I have to do some more planning. We are enjoying waking up early to watch Michael Phelps dominate in the pool (another of the simple pleasures), plus it helps me get my day started (which is an added bonus in that Alli doesn't give me grief for sleeping in until 10am).

I just got back from a nice long bike ride (it was uphills both ways, and I was carrying my camera and a map in my backpack which added an extra 300 pounds) through various parts of our city (and neighboring towns). I just calculated my route on Google Earth and it indicated I only went 14 km (about 8.7 miles); something must be wrong with Google Earth because it felt more like 14.5 km. The route (as seen in the picture at right..click on it for the version that doesn't require an electron microscope) was very much a climb at the beginning (230m climb on the way up to the top of the map), but as they say 'What goes up, must come down"...the breeze was nice on the way down (it was also nice to work off those six bretzels I've eaten over the last three days, they go straight to your ribs....the bretzels appeared to reform once in my gullet and I thought I heard polka music).

This route was similar to the one I attempted earlier last week when I wound up narrowly escaping death, flash flooding, and the hooting and hollering of construction workers (that's what I get for wearing man capri's...just kidding, I haven't purchased any...yet). This time I stopped occasionally (like when I could see my lungs squeezing through my rib cage looking for extra air) to make sure I was going where I intended to ride. Eventually I made it to where I was trying to get to the first time, the Tour de Sauvabelin (I giant wooden tower in the middle of the park of Sauvabelin...the one with barnyard animals and authentic barnyard smells). It is quite the impressive structure, and if you appreciate torque you'll really enjoy this tower as it looks like a giant screw on the inside. It also tends to twist a bit at the top when new people arrive...not for those that are afraid of heights or easily affected by uncontrolled motion (such as roller coasters or driving in the mountains with me behind the wheel).

The view was quite impressive, although the trees in the forest seemed to get in the way of my attempt to become the next great architecture photographer. It was so impressive that a Swiss couple found it necessary to make sweet, sweet love for the entire time while I was up there (not really, but they were kissing A LOT; this is something I've noticed here, people stop randomly and just starting swapping germs. This isn't France people, it's not nearly as romantic as you think! I wonder if they are tourists from Eastern Europe who think they've made it into France, but their GPS had them turn off the motorway too soon)...I was convinced they thought they were the only ones up there until a family came up (I feel for the dad as he apparently lugged his two kids up the entire way sans baby carrier...he must have biceps of steel) which caused them to wipe the slobber off their faces and pretend they were just practicing their resuscitation techniques.

After climbing back down (35 meters both way, so 115 feet high), I got back on my bike and went looking for more photo opportunities (when in doubt, look for tour buses or masses of people in seemingly uninteresting places...another clue is look for the dude with the giant camera with the telephoto lens taking a picture of something 3 feet away; because everything looks better zoomed in). It was also at this point I realized (or rather my stomach) it was lunch time but I decided that could wait (after all I'm busy, my watch tan is almost gone, and it's not like lunch won't be waiting for me at home). I found my way into the center of the city near the cathedral and city square (museums, Wednesday farmer's market, Starbucks, etc.) where I snapped some more photos (while receiving dirty glares from people who apparently don't agree that the Ohio State Buckeyes are the best football team in all the land...or maybe they were mad because I was riding my bike in and out of the fruit and flower stalls in the cobblestone street) and proceeded back home (again with the gentle breeze blowing my sweaty stench upon some unsuspecting lass on a Vespa behind me).

The city is quite magnificent and beautiful, and if you are in the right spot you can see Lake Geneva (Lac Leman in French), the Alps, and the smog/haze/fog/whatever prevents me from getting an excellent mountain photo. Our apartment is about 0.5 km (0.3 miles) from the lake, so we get down to the water pretty much every night. It is amazing how quickly the landscape changes from flat to hills to mountains, and how the city disappears a few kilometers outside the city limit and you get beautiful vineyards and quaint small towns. Aside from the foreign languages (French mostly, some German/Italian, and misc. other) and price of gas ($8 per gallon equivalent) and food (a boneless skinless chicken breast is ~$12 per pound equivalent, ice cream is around 2-3x more expensive than in the States, and good luck finding things like peanut butter), it really is the perfect place to live. (All of the pictures can be clicked and you should see a larger version, if that doesn't work blame Al Gore, he invented the internet.)

Hi Abby, it's really your brother Mark in Switzerland. I just went on a long bike ride and got really sweaty and gross. I probably need to go to sports camp like you did to get in better shape :)

I am taking Alli to Zurich on Friday for Swiss National Day (it's like the 4th of July in the United States, only it's for Swiss people). There will be fireworks (I am sure all of the dogs here will be hiding during the festivities), weird food (like sausages and fondue), and lots of fun adventures.

One month left until you have to go back to school...enjoy the rest of your summer (and have fun at Art camp...by the way, who is Art and what kind of things do you do at his camp?) I really am writing this blog, so I put pictures of myself in here to provide evidence that I am the author of this blog. If you still don't believe me then you'll just have to come over here so I can prove it to you. Give my dog a hug and tell her I miss her!

P.S. My hair is getting really long (long by my standards anyway) as I don't know enough French yet to tell the barber to give me a mohawk and dye it purple, I'll let you know when I get it cut and how it goes.

After trekking the hills of Lausanne in search of a bicycle tire repair kit, I finally found what I was looking for at a small sports shop. After successfully locating the patch kit, I proceeded to the cashier (caisse) where I attempted to pretend to be a local.

Clerk: Bonjour Monsieur
Mark: Bonjour (I hand him the kit)
Clerk: (Scans item, totals the price) Huit francs et quatre-vingt-dix centimes (8 francs and 4 twenties and 10 cents...or 8.90 CHF...at least that's how much my receipt says, again, I'm not fluent yet, so this may be incorrect)
Mark: (I swipe my bank card, punch in my pin...life is good)

At this point I'm expecting the transaction to be over, maybe getting a Bonne Journée (Good Day), but I'm pretty sure he doesn't know I'm American (maybe the fact that I was super sweaty from walking up to the city distracted him from my Ohio State Buckeyes football t-shirt, causing him to mistake me for an exercising European)


Clerk: Voulez vous un sac por le kit? (or something close to this "Would you like a bag for your kit?")
Me: Uhhhh (I didn't have a clue what he was asking. It's interesting; I'm to the point now where I can understand some basic questions, and if I listen closely I can understand some words, but if I'm expecting to hear one thing and hear something else, or if I'm not expecting anything at all, I turn into a deer staring into headlights)

Clerk (in perfect English): Do you want a bag for your purchase?
Me: Non, merci beaucoop.

Why is this interesting? Because when you pretend to know French and get caught not knowing how to respond, people notice the fact that you are wearing white socks and running shoes even though you aren't working out, and that you are sweaty because you are out of shape, and that you probably only speak English. He didn't bother repeating the question in French, nor did he switch to German or Italian (2 of the more common languages spoken around here); he went straight to English. I guess I need to keep learning.

For those that were wondering, I patched the tire on my bike so I am mobile again. I tested it out with Alli last night on a pleasant bike ride down to Lutry (10 km ride = 6 miles). Today, I am going to be attempting laundry, although I have only been cleared to wash towels, sheets, pillow cases, and my underwear. I still haven't been forgiven for shrinking and/or changing the colors of previous loads of laundry in our first couple weeks as a married couple (which is fine if you ask me).

As you can see from the picture at right, it's one of those days. I hopped onto my bike for a ride (I wanted to feed the ducks and swans in the lake some old bread that wasn't fit for the queen's consumption) and noticed something funny about my bike (no, it isn't that my butt feels like it has a shoe wedged between my butt-bones, that's normal). Remembering some old tricks from my days as a stunt double for MacGyver (I had to wear a wig because I refused to grow a mullet) I proceeded down to the lake where there's a fountain that the little kids play in (don't worry, I was upstream from the warm areas).

I put the tire in the water (of course it was clean), and slowly turned it in the water looking for drowning gremlins jumping out a hole. Voila! (that's a French word, I think it's a wooden instrument with strings)...bubbles! Me thinks I have a hole in my tire. Sure enough, there was a large thorn sticking out of the tire, most likely from my off-roading adventure near the flash flood zone (I wish there was a warning sign for flat bike tires).

So I am now going out (on foot, I wouldn't be caught dead riding a girl's bike; at least not without my man capris, man purse, and little pink basket on the front with streamers on the handlebars) to try and find a repair kit as I don't want to purchase a new tube (when you are unemployed, err, on sabbatical you try to remain as frugal as possible... which is really nothing new for me).

On the plus side it's beautiful outside so I am going to take off my watch and hope the sun gives my wrist a little tanning action...I just need to finish my beer and bretzel (it's bread, it's pretzel flavored...it's a bretzel!) first.

I apologize for the lack of interesting stories today. You see, I started my morning by going to the Hotel du Police (which is apparently the police station) to get a parking permit for our car (this will let us park our car and not have to move it every hour to avoid getting a ticket). So as you can imagine this required me to bicycle up into the city and back down to our apartment after this adventure. Of course nobody there spoke English and my French is only useful in the grocery store, but for some reason I felt it necessary to speak Spanish to them (fun times). They somehow knew I'd be coming because they knew my name before I told them ("Mr. Seeber? Mr. Seeber? Ah Yes, blah blah blah blah" ... the blah's were in French).

As we all know in the States when you need to do something at the city offices (like get license plates, or marriage license, or stamps) you need to produce ten forms of ID, fill out a two inch thick stack of forms, all while being stared at by an unpleasant city employee; Now imagine me trying to get a parking permit in a foreign country where the forms are in French, and the city employee not only is offended by my lack of French speaking ability (she didn't seem to care I did know Spanish, and a little German for what it's worth), but seems somewhat conspicuous of my American uniform (or maybe it was the sweat permeating through my shorts and t-shirt...thankfully being American I chose to wear deodorant). Ugh.

Actually, it went fairly smooth, and after getting the temporary pass I proceeded to the post office to pay for the permit (the Swiss apparently are trying to avoid directly paying the police for favors, unlike certain jurisdictions in America). I would guess I biked another 8 km today, which combined with my earlier adventures adds up to more exercise than I attempted since college. Unless you count mowing my city size yard in Minneapolis which is just large enough to cause a drop or two of perspiration (and 15 minutes of my time).

Needless to say when I got back to the apartment I decided I needed to rest by planning our late August vacation to Ireland (we'll be going 21/8 through 27/8 so don't steal our stuff while we're gone - In case you're wondering I used the European date system, that's August 21-28 for those not yet initiated). After this and a light lunch (consisting of two Jambon, Gruyere, and Dijon mustard sandwiches, a peach jaune (yellow flesh peach), some chips and cookies), I decided I needed a nap. Well, when you haven't regularly exercised for a while and you all of the sudden start again your body gets tired much faster.

I slept for three hours, maybe more as I wasn't looking too closely at the clock. Thankfully I was up in time to run to the store to pick up some dinner items and have it ready by the time my boss came home, although she apparently called me (and supposedly we chatted) during my nap. Can't say I remember much of it, but with all of this exercise hopefully my brain function will improve as well.

It's supposed to rain tomorrow, which means if the weather people are anything like they are in the states then it will be beautiful and sunny. I think we're going to hit the Lausanne city market in the morning and then maybe go out to Broc to the Nestle Callier Chocolate Factory tour if we are so inclined.

After yesterday, I have a new found admiration for the riders of the Tour de France, as well as those who choose to exercise on a regular basis. For those of you that don't know Lausanne is quite hilly. I am thinking the word hilly isn't strong enough but it would be an insult to the majestic Alps to call it mountainous. According to my Michelin guidebook Lausanne is "built on uneven ground," which is like saying flying from New York to LA gets you there a little quicker than if you had decided to do crawl the route on your knees instead.

I haven't been to San Francisco, but I'm pretty sure Lausanne has it beat. For geographical context, we live very close to the lake (less than 800 meters by pigeon ~ 1/2 mile). From our apartment to the water the elevation change is roughly 50m (160 feet), which isn't bad unless you were playing a game of soccer in the street and you miss the net. I had planned on riding my bicycle about 5km up to a park on the north side of Lausanne, spending the afternoon there (maybe grabbing a beer and sandwich, or just soaking up the rays) and then coasting back down to our apartment. Ask most people who ride their bikes somewhat regularly and 10km isn't all that hard (6.2 miles), even when you throw in some slight elevation change.

I however failed to note the elevation change that I would encounter on my trip. The first kilometer of my trip I experienced a 75 meter climb (250 feet), followed by another 50 meters through the next kilometer. No problem I say to myself, I made a short stop in a nice park along the route, but decided I was fine to go on. Plus, I had brought along my GPS which showed I had not quite 3 km left to my final target (I can choose whether I'm walking, driving, or biking so it changes routes and speeds to tell you when it thinks you'll be there). Needless to say the GPS figured if I was stupid enough to bike up through Lausanne, I must have calf muscles that were featured on the cover of Muscle Fitness magazine. The GPS showed that I should be able to knock off the last 3 km in about 20 minutes. I figured the beer would be the perfect reward.

But as I referred to earlier, the only thing physically I have going for me is that gravity has to work a little harder to keep me on the ground since my bone to muscle ratio is like 3 to 1; of my 82 kg (180ish pounds), I'd say 60% is bone, 20% is muscle, 10% skin, and the rest is gristle. The rest of the trip did not take me 20 minutes. For the next 2 km I completed a climb that could be described as grueling, but that would be polite. It was over a little over 100 meters (325+ feet) and I still wasn't even to the stupid park that looked so close on the map. I got out my GPS to see how long it thought I was from my target when I found out I missed a turn somewhere and was actually further away than when I started the climb.

I think it was at this point I started sweating pure salt. I started to ride again only this time with the GPS out of my backpack to make sure I didn't miss another turn. Fortunately I was able to go downhill for a bit (800 m) which provided a nice breeze; this enabled me to outrun the vultures and flies. Now I found myself getting extremely close to the park, but due to the topography of the park I was on the wrong side (the park features a valley with a river on the far east side that flows south towards the lake, and I wanted to be on the northwest side even though it was on the complete opposite end).

My GPS assured me that I was under 1 km to the finish, although the map it displayed didn't take into account the fact that construction began on new roads through the park about 6 months ago which left me trying to decide if I wanted to go all the way around the outside of the park (um, no) or through the construction zone (why not). The road on my GPS no longer existed so I was forced to use my skills from two years of Cub Scouts to determine which way to go. Unfortunately we hadn't learned navigating before I decided baseball was more fun so I had to guess.

The GPS indicated there was a route called Chemin de Cascades, which if my French were better would have known meant Dirt Path by Waterfalls. Silly me, I thought it was a real paved road. Only the dirt path might have been more aptly portrayed by a picture of Indiana Jones holding a machete and some ancient Swiss amulet being chased by wild guinea pigs or something. I probably should have known to turn around when I saw the sign which thankfully I could translate due to the universal picture for this area is prone to flash flooding. To the right you will see the sign, I think it's a pretty good one as far as trying to get across a point as clearly as possible.

What made matters worse was I was apparently at the base of the river bed and I needed to get to the top...80 meters up, and it's a dirt path, that's overgrown with every possible Swiss plant that either would hurt alot if I hit it, or would leave nasty thorns in my arms, legs, and face. So I did what I had to do and carried my bike the whole way. I don't know if you've ever watched one of those outdoor adventure challenge races they sometimes have on TV on Saturdays where people kayak, mountain bike, hike, climb, kill woodland creatures, and run up mountains to win t-shirts, water bottles, and other great prizes, but that's what I was basically doing. Except my prize would be someone finding me alive.

I eventually made it about 2/3 of the way up when I came across a woman and her two dogs so I figured at least I won't die alone, but I obviously spooked her as they quickly vanished and I was again left alone. But as luck would have it my Cub Scout skills came in handy as I heard a faint noise that could neither be described as organic...cars. I realized now that I was close to a real paved road and I could probably get a decent GPS signal to find my way out. Sometimes the GPS gets confused when it only sees a couple satellites and starts to try and figure out where you are, so the dense canopy above me was making the GPS think I was capable of time-shifting or something.

Once on the road, I found that I was only 500 meters from my destination, which on the map looked like a nice park; in reality it was a weird lake surrounded by barn animals (goats, sheep, cows, chickens, etc.) which I noticed before I could see it if you catch my drift (I certainly caught theirs). Anyway, I spent about 10 minutes up there trying to catch my breath (which was very hard to do, not because of altitude or anything, remember, there are goats, sheep, cows, chickens, etc.), and then I decided I had enough fun for the day and decided to head back home.

I gather I spent about 2-3 hours biking up to this park, and about 15-20 minutes biking down (I can't be sure on the exact time going up as I think I lost consciousness for a while or at least it felt like time was standing still). I guess if I want to develop some muscle, then I should definitely bike around here more often. If you do come visit, I promise we'll take a car or public transportation at all times, especially if you want to go see the city farm.

We will be heading down to Italy tomorrow morning (Saturday) to see the Tour de France (on Sunday) which will come into Italy (www.letour.fr). We are going to spend Saturday hanging out in Turin (Turino) and then Sunday drive down to Prato Nevoso to watch the finish of the 15th Stage, with a late drive back to Switzerland (we'll probably leave around 7 or 8pm and be back in Lausanne around 1 or 2am). Nonetheless it should be fun. I am excited to see the Shroud, although I hear it's just a copy. Turin is also home to the Fiat car company, Juventus football (soccer) team, and the 2006 Winter Olympics. Watch for us on TV. I'll try to figure out something to do to attempt to make it on TV, although I will NOT take performance enhancing drugs.