Aww, Nendaz. Such a lovely and small ski town in Valais, southwest of here in the French-speaking part of Switzerland, where we are more-or-less linguistically lost. (Me more so than Mike, as he still remembers a few things from having taken French in high school. God bless him.) We had such a good time at the Cor des Alpes last year that we decided to return again this year--and for an extra day, no less!--and so we packed up and headed there on the bike for the second-to-last weekend in July. We had the most sterling reception at the stunning B&B* Mike booked for us, and then we headed to dinner at Trattoria dei Savi, a highly-recommended Italian restaurant with an emphasis on Sardinian food. (In the Swiss mountains...go figure.) For once in my life, I decided to just enjoy my meal and not document it, which is probably a result of the fact that we (rather foolishly) ordered the surprise tasting menu...which consisted of about a zillion marvelous courses. (I think these included stewed octopus with tomatoes and basil; prosciutto-wrapped cantaloupe; a plate of prawns cooked in white wine, with salad; either soup or pasta with clams, mussels, and prawns; sliced grilled beef over arugula and parmigiano; and fruit salad/tiramisu/crema catalana for dessert. And I'm pretty sure there was more.)
And this is what we woke up to the next morning:
Yeah. That was the view from our room.
After breakfast, we hopped on the bike
and headed down the mountain to Sion, which is the capital of Valais
and is--get this--7,000 years old. Plus, it's got no
fewer than four castles in its immediate vicinity, all of which one
can see from the highway, and so...yes, please. All of that
is for me. (And my along-for-whatever, insanely good sport
of a husband, who has been subjected to more ruins and old churches
than any rational human being should be.) Main objective: the area's
most substantial castle (ok, ok, "fortified village,"), Valère,
which is on top of this hill that positively towers over the city.
It's only now that I'm realizing that I failed to get any really good
photos of said castle itself--turns out, it's hard to photograph from below the
thing to which you're ascending--so this little agglomeration will
have to suffice.
Valère on the left and Tourbillon on
the right, from the highway (both from the 13th century).
Interestingly enough, Valère was constructed to house the
canons of the diocese, and Tourbillon was originally the bishop's
residence. (Between about 1000 and 1600 AD, the bishop ruled Valais
as king, endowed with this authority by the Kingdom of Burgundy in
999.)
Best shot I got as we were climbing up.
Found a path up the hill (it turned out not to be the path, but it got us there!), which passed this old tower and defensive wall remnants.
View from Valère of
the Majorie/Vidomnat castle (also 13th century), which houses Sion's art museum.
Valère
contains Sion's history museum, and so of course we had to
go in. These, people, are the bones of a cave bear from 35,000
BC.** (All of the items in this museum were found locally.)
Bronze pins from 2000-1600 BC.
Bronze Roman-era appliqué, 2nd-3rd century AD.
Room with artifacts from the era of the bishop-as-king. The fireplace is from 1532, and the wooden liturgical chests from the 13th through 15th centuries.
These things are just gorgeous and are crazy detailed. (On this one, every carved medallion and upper-tier arch is unique.)
You know how I love me some old armaments. Pointy-faced helmet from 1350-1370.
View of Tourbillon from the history museum. (It's just right there.)
Stained glass from 1587. I love, love the boot at the top...very Monty Python-esque.
The castle building itself is pretty fantastic, even without all of the amazing goodies in the museum. Here, frescoes on the wall from 1470 and on the fireplace from about 1300.
One cannot go to Valère
without visiting its basilica, of course; as it was built over the
course of two centuries, it contains both Romanesque and Gothic
construction styles, and houses the world's oldest playable organ.
Basilica interior, with a rare example of a 13th-century rood (or crucifix-bearing) screen wall separating the nave from the choir. (Most of these sorts of walls have been torn down.)
Just outside of the choir, what I think is the most elaborate column capital I've ever seen. (Hard to believe that this thing survives from the twelfth century.)
I'd read somewhere beforehand that the choir was neither to be missed, nor accessible without being on a tour, and as it just so happened, that tour began about 3 minutes after Mike and I got in the basilica door. As it also happened, it was just he and I on the tour, which was led by a very sweet and insanely knowledgeable Valaisian girl who spoke excellent English. Poor thing actually has a degree in first-century Christian art, and has studied a ton in Rome...but, as hers is a fairly narrow and highly specialized field, she wound up here, in her home town, leading tiny tours of this rather small, but fascinating, 13th-century gem. A bit disappointing for her, I think, but fortunate for us: she gave us a really fantastic tour.
The choir is locked to the public, and you can see a little of this from outside the gate, but inside, it's mind-boggling. The full effect is genuinely incredible; there are four tiers of mid-15th-century frescoes in here, all the way from the floor to the ceiling.
Detail of the first tier, showing the Apostles.
Second through fourth tiers, with (from bottom) depictions of prophets, saints of the diocese of Sion, and angels with instruments of the Passion.
There are also these remarkable choir stalls from the 1660s, with scenes from the Passion and Resurrection (including a handful of extra, non-canonical ones!). The detail here is stunning.
Another Romanesque column capital, but this one got painted during the frescoing frenzy of the 15th century. Heh.
The organ (it and its painted panels are from 1435), which everyone considers the true gem of the church. (I'd vote for those frescoes and the choir stalls, myself, but what do I know??) That weird image on the wall below it is a projection from the keyboard area, and they set this up when someone's getting ready to play the thing. (We did not stick around to hear it, but apparently, organists from 'round the world spend actual years on the waiting list to play this organ. Not for the richness of its sound, though--it's supposed to be very high and reedy.) (And also, I got to take this photo from on top of the screen wall. Thanks, tour!!)***
After leaving the basilica, we headed back down into Sion for a little more exploration. The city itself, even without its legions of castles, is quite something.
So
many old buildings and funny little alleyways and neat views.
Ugh. So enchanting.
Fancy, fancy door on the town hall!
Sion's cathedral, with 12th-century bell tower, and a very small 11th-century crypt underneath.
Crazy bat-winged thing--one of many--on the 16th-century church of St. Theodule.
Manhole cover! Woo!
A glimpse of Valère in the very background, way above Sion.
After sharing some insanely good homemade pistachio ice cream, we headed back up the hill to Nendaz, just in time to change into street clothing and hit the parade. Forgive the not-so-great nature of my photos and video; the camera was pitching one of its "I refuse to focus on anything or anyone!" fits, and so I missed a lot of the moments I wanted, and had to settle for what was in between. (Stupid technology. It seems to work just fine when I've got all the time in the world to photograph a mountain or a centuries-old building, but with moving targets? A parade? How dare I expect that level of functionality!) (Ahem.)
Before the parade, however, a gratuitous afternoon shot from our room. I'l have some more of this, please.
As with last year, the parade started with the ol' fighting cows! So very stocky and short-legged. The (horned) females of the Hérens breed create their social hierarchy by locking horns and then pushing until the weaker one retreats. (Nope, never seen it. Had to look that tidbit up.)
Hee...look at all the tiny traditional costumes!
The first of many dancin' groups.
So many squeezeboxen.
This lady was knitting and walking. With double-pointed needles. I can barely grapple with those from the relative stillness of my couch.
More dancin'.
Mike's favorite: the St. Bernards with casks.
My favorite: PUPPY!!!
I think this was a ski school float; these three guys were sitting in a seat from a chair lift, positioned behind a snow gun, playing oompah music and singing. They were enthusiastic and good.
Not sure what this guy was doing, but he had a sheaf of wheat on his back for sure.
New this year: a schwingen float, complete with sawdust pit and a guy raking it!
Also new this year: I'd say at least triple the number of flag tossers from last time.
Alphorns on the move, plus look at that lady in the pink apron's fancy, fancy headpiece!
Giant fluffy doggie on a float!
This guy was sharpening an axe on the back of a moving flatbed. (Or at least pretending to...?)
Hey, goats! And also, that curly curly sheep looks like a Muppet.
Wheelbarrow full of bunnies!! (The goats were quite interested in seeing what was going on in there.)
I remember these ladies from last year because I thought their dresses were pretty. And also, they're good. (Added bonus: the kid in the float preceding them, playing the drum along with their tunes.)
Oompah band in a truck!
These guys stole the show for me, pretty much the entire night. Later on they set up shop on top of the dessert booth in the big tent and played, among other awesome things which I have now forgotten, 'Thriller.' (Later on, they also put together a pretty mean Lady Gaga medley...we figure they're an off-season Gugge band.)
The guest canton this year was Zürich, and that's where this yodel choir is from.
Because we're in Valais, and (naturally) the bottled water company sponsors this festival, they had a float, which featured this pretty nifty water feature on the back. There is water pouring out of those inverted bottles.
Some funny little short Alphorns...
...right in front of these crazy long and thin ones. (There were some rolled-up ones, too, that looked like French horns without the valves, but they didn't march in the parade. Boo.)
Menaces on wheels! One of many riders on some pretty great antique motorcycles, all of whom were zooming around like crazy people.
Here's something you (well, at least, I) don't see every day: a clarinet in a traditional Swiss band (with bonus dancers).
The ringers of super-loud-and-giant cowbells this year were from Zürich, as was the accompanying group of a bunch of guys cracking whips. (The latter of which, naturally, my camera refused to register with anything remotely resembling focus. CURSES!! The above video, however, is more than long enough to demonstrate the volume these guys produce. Sheesh.)
Another biker menace, plus a terrifically jolly guy sitting in an easy chair, playing his squeezebox and singing his heart out, on the back of the smallest little green truck ever. Awesome.
Post-parade, it was time for dinner, so we headed into the tent, as we did last year, and then discovered that there were absolutely zero places to sit while we ate, and only slightly more places to stand, all thanks to the presence of what has got to be Switzerland's most popular band, Oesch's die Dritten. While they're a pretty amazing live act, and are some genuinely talented musicians, I have to imagine that the only place they could pack an entire Oktobefest-sized tent like this is Switzerland. We knew they were going to be there, but I had no idea how much of a crowd they'd draw. (CURSES. Foiled again.)
They're all immediate family except the guy on the far right--Dad on the left, sons on guitars, daughter and Mom (the blond) on vocals.
The madding crowd. Every time the daughter would bust out a yodeling solo, Mom would twirl around this red scarf, and half the crowd would whip out scarves from goodness-knows-where to join in.
From our awkwardly-wedged-in positions at a small bar table (next to some disgruntled old people who didn't want to share their space with us or anyone), we did manage to get down plates of Alp macaroni (bacon, onions, and Gruyere!) and venison with spaetzle, then fled outdoors with a final sausage in hand (a very excellent pork Schüblig) to call it a night. In comparison to the year before, which had featured lots of little dancing groups and small traditional bands on stage, I have to say that the massive concert was a bit disappointing. (Bah, humbug! Stop spoiling my little Alpine festival, you people! We were coming here BEFORE it was a big deal!! Ok, only once, but still! Bandwagon jumpers!)
Sunday morning, we caught the chair lift up the hill to Tracouet for the 200-Alphorn ensemble by the lake. (WARNING, WARNING: It's-all-about-me rant ahead...) During which performance, of course, some little kid immediately behind me had the uncanny ability to START TALKING AS SOON AS I STARTED VIDEOING. Like, 4 times in a row. And also, the Alphorns didn't make nearly as much noise as you'd think an instrument designed to carry sound across mountain ranges might, which made the yammering a far greater annoyance than it would otherwise have been.**** That and the fact that the Alphorns seemed to be conspiring against me as well--they were playing along just fine, and then as soon as the camera came up, they were out of sync and hitting sour notes!--made it nearly impossible to get a decent video of this event that I've been waiting a year to enjoy (and to share with you, loyal readers!), so there you have my excuses for how sad and short and obfuscated this little snippet is. (Sorry, folks. I'm rather disappointed here.)
Why yes, that is me in the middle shushing everyone. Not sorry one bit. (And to think, this is the best video I was able to get.)
Many more flags being tossed during the performance, as well.
The cowbell-ringers and whip-crackers were back, but alas...no successful video this time, either.
We saw several of these gorgeous little doggies this year; I believe it is some version of a Schweizer Laufhund. (So cute.)
View of the Rhone valley as we were headed back down the mountainside, with a little breakaway group of horn players getting ready to play a few songs.
Back in Nendaz, we geared up and stopped at a little market for the obligatory locally-made apricot and raspberry preserves, then took a longish ride back to Zürich via a new-to-us route over the Furka pass. It's gorgeous, sure, but a little harrowing, as everyone on a sport bike apparently needs to pass everyone else on the road RIGHT NOW. (Idiots.)
At least it was pretty. Really, really pretty.
Next up: adventures on August 1! Normally, we throw a giant barbecue, as Zürich does absolutely zilch for the Swiss national holiday, but this year we decided to hit the road and see what the places who do throw giant parties are like. The verdict: they are excellent.
*Seriously, most gracious welcome ever--we ended up sharing a bottle of white wine with the owners, who are from the UK, and are terrifically nice; who put on a tremendous breakfast every morning, in their dining room with a ridiculous mountain view through an entire wall made of windows; and are endless fountains of useful information about the area. Plus, the B&B is actually part of their (rather massive and beautiful) home, so it feels like staying with relatives that you really like. Glorious.
**Yes, I still use BC and AD, and plan to continue doing so because I'm set in my ways.
***Yes, ok, fine. I fully realize that this is a heap of photos from one tiny little old church, but believe you me, I could post about a jillion more photos, as well as heaps more history-major-style info, from that basilica. The level of self-restraint here is positively shocking.
****An aside to this particular set of parents: I know that little kids will be little kids, but I could hear you all quite well (obviously--I have it on record!), and you weren't even trying to keep the volume down. SERIOUSLY: if we're all gathered in a setting in which the sole thing we're doing is listening, and to rather quiet music at that, maybe encourage your offspring to talk in a whisper. At least until the musicians are finished. Have some respect for them and for the people around you. *Rant completed.*
Sounds like a good trip. The stained glass boot is fantastic!
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