It's my last day, so we're now trying to cram in every little thing possible. Because of the kids {first, unable to stay home alone and now needing to be fed lunch and picked up from school}, we didn't get to venture too far, like to Zurich or Bern, but I feel quite fulfilled and satisfied with my time in Switzerland. Today, we will attempt to find a watch, go see Sophie's goats, join Carole for her theatre class at the conservatory, and eat pizza all together. It may not sound ambitious, but knowing this family, it is.
Yesterday, after a nice lunch, Isabella decided to take me to Le Moléson {"Mo-lay-son"; Shin, if you got your postcard, that's what the picture is of}. Having seen this postcard and pictures, I thought "Cool, more cows. Alright." We hopped in Virgil's car and drove to Moléson-Village, which seems to have very few buildings...besides one labeled "Funiculaire", which sits on the side of a mountain. Isabella had pointed out a Funiculaire in Fribourg. It looked like this.
Sure. Let's go. Let's take the Funiculaire up a mountain. The guy at the counter asked if we wanted an aller-retour {round-trip ticket}. "Euh...j'espère que oui!" {"I certainly hope so!"} I joked with nervous laughter {the ticket itself was very cute; it even says ":-) Bonne journée! :-)" {"Have a good day!"}. Le Moléson, Isabella explained, is where people come to ski {hence the potential need for a one-way ticket only. Quite a relief}. We took our seats on the little tram, which faced backwards, because I really needed to be reminded of how far off the ground I was going to be. It wasn't too bad, though, I think because I concentrated on the side windows rather than the very large, very transparent front window.
We arrived at a place called "Plan-Francey", which got me wondering where exactly "Le Moléson" itself was. Hmm. Probably just a general term for the whole area. I stepped off the tram and had a look around. The scenery wasn't bad - nice view of the towns below, sloping fields of grass, car on thin black cables leading to very high precipice...oh.
Oh.
Oh.
I think I found Le Moléson.
Isabella grabbed my wrist and urged me to hurry toward the cable car {and what seemed to be my imminent death}. I can't believe people actually pay money to do this. I reluctantly stepped in and held on to the pole in the center for dear life. There was a redhead with her husband who looked just as nervous as I was, and we exchanged nervous glances - an international language if ever there was one. The best part was when the car got to the support beam, where it changes angles witha large clank; Mme Redhead's and my eyes got about ten times wider.
We reached the top. I stepped out of the swinging car and onto the platform, a metal grate with large, hexagonal holes. How sadistic. I tried to be as light on my feet as possible - as if it would have made a difference - and took a look around. Incredible. I was at a loss for words {in French, anyway}, so I'll supply the view, and you can fill in the blanks.
Look, Grandpa, they have a weather station! It measures rain, sunlight, temperature, wind speed, and lots more; very cool.
All in all, a nice and {mostly} successful trip.
2 comments:
A REDHEAD! HURRAY!
Mia ate another pair of my shoes. frikkin bitch.
I want to see Le Moleskin! I miss mountains.
;-)
Haha Le Moleskin. Thanks for that.
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