As advertised, in late September, we took a couple of quick motorcycle trips to see the cows come home. That is to say, some Swiss cows spend the summer up in the Alps, and at the end of summer, they return to their respective farms in the valley. As they are wont to do, the Swiss make this return into an extremely adorable tradition--the Alpabzug--by dressing in traditional garb and garlanding the cows in flowers and unnecessarily large, decorative cow bells. And then parading them through the villages, where they're selling cheeses and snacks and handicrafts, and it's all quite glorious.
Our first Alpabzug excursion was to Pfaffeien, a wee village southwest of here, near Fribourg. Because the weather was still fantastic, we hopped on the ol' BMW and headed that direction with only a vague idea of where we were actually stopping to see the procession. As luck would have it, we rounded a corner, a driver going the opposite way waved at us to slow down, and then we were surrounded by cows.
Look at their gigantic bells and wee sprays of flowers!
These guys had some serious headgear.
And then we drove into town and immediately found yodelers on stage! (My first in-person Alpine yodelers, ever!!)
Reason number one we came out here: cows on parade. Reason number two: mountain cheeses (or Bergkäse, if you'd rather).
More cows, but this time in town.
Herders in traditional dress. Hadn't seen the puffy sleeves before.
...and then there were babies! A whole herd of them!
These girls' hats were actually sewn onto their dresses.
As we stuffed our faces with raclette and local drinks--beer for Mike, and some sort of weird shnapps cocktail for me--what was apparently the main, post-cow-parade event began: a Swiss band (Oesch's die Dritten) took the stage, and the crowd went wild. The singers were pretty great, and their songs nearly all had a yodeling breakdown in the middle, but for my money, the real rock star on stage was the accordion player (one of two, no less).
Flashy Red Accordion on the far right may have had a flashy red accordion, but the gentleman on the far left was having the time of his life, dancing and laughing and messing with the crowd. We loved him.
Here he is in action, along with some serious yodeling.
After getting our fill of yodeling and cows and bergkäse, and because it was a three-hour ride home, we rode into Fribourg to spend the night...and to speak a little French and to eat a little early-season fondue, 'cause that's where it was born. (Obviously, getting there was a bit of a pilgrimage for us.) As it turned out, Fribourg is awfully pretty in its own right, cheese aside.
View from the road near our hotel.
Fribourg was having its own market/festival, and these ladies in dirndls were making lace outdoors.
Intricate, complicated, insane-making lace.
We also happened across this group, who were just sitting around the table at this outdoor cafe on the main pedestrian thoroughfare, singing their hearts out and drinking their drinks. Ahh, the magic of the fall festival season, when one can wander through market stalls and taste free samples and stumble across random groups of people dressed in traditional clothing doing interesting traditional things just about everywhere.
And then there was city hall! With a pretty major staircase.
Hochzeitergasse (Bridegroom Alley). Super charming little alley between Grand-Rue...
...and St. Nicholas' Cathedral.
Wonky old buildings on the Grand-Rue.
The view from Cafe du Belvedere, where we had some aperitifs before a glorious fondue dinner at Soleil Blanc. It was freezing cold up there, but at least we had this to look at.
Meringues in the market! They are delightful and flavorful when they're fresh, and don't explode when you bite into them. Which, combined with their relative blandness, is why I never really liked meringues in the first place, but these...wow. (We had them post-fondue with unsweetened whipped cream and berries. It was a dinner filled with Fribourg's regional delicacies...for which type of thing, as we all know, I'm a complete sucker. Tell me something's local, and I will most likely have finished eating it by the time you finish describing it.)
On our way out of town, Mike spotted these Alphorn players (and flag-tossing guy) in front of the town hall, and so we had to stop. Turns out, it was some sort of big community thing, and roving groups of young people were handing out biscuits-with-jam and cups of wine and sparkling water. For free. It was fantastic and festive.
Alphorn music and flag twirling! (Sorry...the video goes out of focus about halfway through, when that completely oblivious guy walks in front of the crowd.)
Mike noticed this guy carrying a bag for his Alphorn mouthpieces...neat.
During a break, I snuck up to take a closer look at the Alphorns, which had lovely Swiss scenes painted on them.
View of the city on the way out. I quite liked Fribourg.
Our second Alpabzug occurred the following weekend, and was just a day trip, although I think that might have been to our detriment, 'cause look at this place:
Engelberg. Cripes. I had no idea.
Look at their headdresses!!
Die Kühe in action. They were really interested in what was going on on the sides of the street, i.e., where we tourists were with our cameras. Not to worry, no one was trampled in the making of this video. (Which, by the way, does not nearly convey how crazy loud those bells are.)
Kloster Engelberg, the local Benedictine monastery. (There's been a monastery here since 1120, of course.) There's an on-site cheesery** here, which makes some wicked good stuff (e.g., cheese with bits of ham in it,*** and an awesome oil-and-chili-marinated sheep's cheese that we brought home).
Seriously fantastic gardens.
We didn't buy any, 'cause we were headed straight for the cheese, but I had to get a shot of this bread (this particular type is zopf, if you're Swiss). It's just so lovely and golden and tasty-looking.****
This is the only time I've ever seen someone make raclette in a skillet, and it's the best I've ever had. Was that a result of the use of the skillet, or of the monastery's raclette blend? I feel as though we were remiss in not bringing some home, in order to determine the answer for ourselves through experimentation. (It's all in the name of science!)
Just look at it. There's like a half-inch of cheese on that plate. We sat and devoured this while three teenage girls in edelweiss shirts sat in the middle of the market stalls and picnic tables and played the squeezebox. (It was almost too charming.)
From the main church within the monastery walls, looking out. I really couldn't get enough of the mountains everywhere.
Next up was a quick jaunt over to Konstanz, for our first Oktoberfest of the season! (There's just something right about being in Germany for Oktoberfest, even if it's not Munich.) Naturally, we dressed up, but none of our lame-o friends wanted to go with us, so there are no photos. (See this post, if you're really interested.) Mike's a big, big fan the chicken at Oktoberfest, and this year, I've decided that I agree with him. HOLY SMOKES, is that chicken good. It's roasted with rosemary and salt and whatever other delicious spices they decide to put on it, and it's the juiciest and tastiest chicken ever, with the crispiest skin. But Oktoberfest is about things other than chicken--like, say, music, for example--and when we were in Konstanz, they were hosting a brass band competition. Fantastic. Sure, they played plenty of traditional German songs and Oktoberfest songs and the like, but my favorites are always the covers of rock, pop, and American songs. (Technical note: these videos were taken with my phone, and as such, are a bit loud and terrible. You might want to turn your speakers down a tad.)
Yeah, you know that riff. I love the nice, white-haired old man clapping gently along.
There was apparently some sort of routine corresponding to this song. These weren't the only people I saw doing this, but I thought these two were cute. (FYI, that's Mike's blue-checked shoulder on the left. I would have zoomed in a bit more, but I was trying to stealth-video this.)
The bands tend to leave the stage and play amongst the crowd, occasionally, and those guys in vests on the right are members of one of the previous bands, and were having a ball.
These band fans had sparklers. That's team spirit, right there.
There were, of course, many, many covers of rock songs to choose from on this particular evening, but this was by far my favorite. You can hear me giggling in the middle. Ladies and gents, I present to you Bon Jovi's "Runaway."
As if all of the cows and the raclette and the beer tents weren't enough, we managed to squeeze in a whirlwind trip up to Heidelberg to visit our friend Sarah, who was there for a conference. It was truly lovely getting to know her better, and introducing her both to that lovely city, and to the delights of German cuisine. Mike and I also visited the Studentenkarzer (student prison), which was used between 1778 and 1914 to detain (usually briefly) students who were busted for minor offenses, including (but not limited to) getting drunk and insulting their superiors, and dueling. (Not in the "To the death!" sense, but in the "I'm going to try to scratch your face with my rapier!" sense. And, also, it eventually became fairly fashionable among students to do a stint here. Just FYI.) Um, I may have taken photos inside, but am still not sure whether that was kosher, so go here to look at others' pictures of the place. It's really spectacular.
Next, we roamed the streets.
Ahh, Heidelberg, you magnificent beast. Here, the Karl Theodor bridge, with the castle across the river on the left.
Such a pretty Altstadt.
I heart these buildings and balconies.
That is an entire giant sack of lavender. Want.
Mmmmmm, house-made pralines.
Market Square and the Church of the Holy Spirit.
In addition to our meanderings about town, we also fit in a tour of the castle, which you may remember from previous adventures such as these. Fortunately, it's still pretty fantastic.
I took this exact same picture last time, but it was cloudy. This is much better.
16th-century faience in the pharmacy museum.
I'd have absolutely no use for this piece of furniture, probably ever, but that doesn't stop me from lusting after it. It's just so neat and wavy and turquoise and labeled.
"Registered in Germany and most of the other industrial countries."
I love all the colors and jars and nooks and unnecessary flourishes.
Requisite artsy shot of old bottles.
The ruins of the English building, so named because (I think) the elector Frederick V built it for his English bride, Elizabeth Stuart, in the early 17th century. (As a side note, the queen was against their marriage because he was just an elector, and not a prince or anything grander, but then the two fell in love at first sight, and so it was a done deal. Take that, snooty queen.)
As legend has it, Frederick had this gate built for Elizabeth in a single night, for her 20th birthday. It's neat 'cause it has all sorts of critters hidden in the ivy carved around the columns.
Like this froggie and squirrel, for example.
Top of the ruins of the Ottheinrich building (mid-16th century).
We saw the Big Barrel again, but we found this little barrel, too, which I loved. I can in no way, shape, or form read the fancy scrolly letters, but the rest of it says something to the effect of, "Drinking wine makes one cheerful, and drinking wine, you can be happy and blessed." Heh.
The powder tower, which we missed last time! In 1689, during some sort of succession dispute (naturally), the French attacked the castle and tried to blow up this tower, which didn't really explode. The front just sorta fell off, mostly intact.
View from the ramparts overlooking the Neckar River.
We elected to walk back down the hill from the castle, which was fun, 'cause then we got to walk past all of the crazy old buildings we could see from the castle walls.
We had dinner at Zum Güldenen Schaf, mainly for the "Satansbraten," pork steaks marinated with chili garlic sauce and fried potatoes with onions and bacon. Like an idiot, I let Mike order that, and since I felt compelled to try something different, I ordered some sort of lamb something-or-other. The best thing on my plate was the cheese potato gratin, and Sarah had a nice, crunchy schnitzel, but the best thing at the table, by far, was everything on Mike's plate. (Sigh...something to remember for the next time, I guess. Anyone want to meet us in Heidelberg...?)
And with that, I'm going to wrap this up. I feel like that's enough for one post, so...Kalamazoo will have to wait until next time.
What I'm reading: finished Twelve Years a Slave, which was well worth reading. Highly recommend it, especially if you're as squeamish as I am and won't be able to see the movie (which, as I mentioned last time, is being billed as a landmark in cinematic history). Next up was Committed, A Love Story, by Elizabeth Gilbert. Yes, she's same woman who wrote Eat, Pray, Love, which I did not initially want to read, seeing as how it was completely oversold by both everyone who'd read it and by the Julia Roberts vehicle of the same name, but which turned out to be absolutely wonderful (yes, ok, the mainstream got this one right). Committed turned out to be more of a piecemeal exploration of the history of marriage and the saga surrounding Elisabeth's and her fiancee's attempts to begin their life together in the US, which is how marriage became an issue for them, as he was a Brazilian citizen, and neither of them wanted to get married in the first place (since they'd both been married to other people before, and it had all ended terribly). (If that makes any sense at all...I apologize, that was a terrible sentence.) Personally, I thought Committed lacked the same heart as Eat, Pray, Love, which was raw and spiritual and both seriously entertaining and poignant. I guess it might be difficult to live up to the high bar set by her first book, but still...Committed was just all right. Now I'm trying, finally, to start reading things off of my wish list, so I've started reading Captive: My Time as a Prisoner of the Taliban, by Jere Van Dyk. Super interesting story, but the guy writes in extremely short, and somehow relatively indirect, sentences, which makes it a bit tricky to stay engaged. Still interesting, though.
What we're watching: we've started in on The West Wing, and I completely and totally understand why it had such a sterling reputation and such a devoted following: the show is utterly fantastic. And it's interesting to note how topical, timely, and relevant it still is, even though its earliest seasons are over ten years old. Plus, it's ridiculously well cast and well acted.
What we're eating: I made this stew (from one of my favorite vegetarian blogs) Tuesday night, and boy is it good. I think it's one of those things that's even better the next day, and I would know, considering I've been sneaking bites ever since. Am looking forward to eating leftovers of it tonight. It definitely takes some planning and a good amount of time, but then when it's ready, you have both leftovers and a heap of delicious roasted tomatoes-with-garlic. What's not to love?
Next time, folks, there will be tales from Kalamazoo and a radish parade.
*Although not the pie itself, oddly enough. I think it's the ridiculous and unnatural squishy texture that completely and utterly turns me off. But the scones and the breads and the pastas and the soups and the cheesecakes...yes, please.
**As as much as I gripe and complain about the painful nature of learning German, there are occasionally single words that sum up an entire concept. In this case, for example, a place where they roast things? Rösterei. A place where they bake things? Bäckerei. A place where they make and/or sell cheese? Käserei. It's just so delightfully compact and efficient that I think we should institute this in English on a wide scale (and yes, I do realize that it already exists, to an extent, but it's not nearly used as consistently or effectively). So yes, cheesery. (Cheesery, hattery, bootery, meatery, and on, and on. The potential is endless.)
***I am not kidding you, ham cheese is a thing! I saw it in the store once and bought it because I thought it was hilarious, and, let's face it, we all know my fascination with weird junk foods. However. It turned out to be ridiculously good. And it comes from this monastery. What a wonderful, wonderful place.
****Ooh, and speaking of baked goods in Engelberg, we had the tastiest pastry in this little bakery there! It was called a Pfaffenhut, and it was this little dough pocket shaped like a tri-corner hat, filled with some sort of gooey marzipan concoction. It ain't the prettiest, but it tasted so, so fantastic.
