3 August - Locarno

(most of the photos from today until France are taken by others)

Once we got back to the hotel, I ditched the entourage to liberate Luciano. I had parked him in some weird building that apparently had some arrangement with the hotel. The fact that I simply walked past about 15 workmen with my luggage, got in my car, and drove off, led me to wonder how secure he really had been.

I swung by La Perla to get my stuff and buy some groceries. I wound up pulling up to the youth hostel in Locarno the same moment the students were spilling out of the bus. I don’t think they noticed I had gone and returned. Jaimey and I got the keys and helped them settle in.

Dinner was in the hostel. They had a nice cafeteria with lots of salad fixings, a hearty main dish, and some dessert. It was convenient and nutritious and free (well, included in the program price for the students.) Our group represented about one quarter of the hostel guests. Being high season and during the film festival, the hostel was full all the time.

Our rooms were quite Spartan with simple Ikea furniture and concrete floors. Some of the students, Jaimey and myself, had balconies. The others would get sea views in France. I liked the hostel because the food was good and free, the bed was better than the one in the La Perla studio, and the shower had pressure, again, unlike the one in the studio.

That night Jaimey and I had to pick up the festival passes so we made a tour of it and invited students to come if they want. 25 of 25 were waiting for us in the lobby. We pointed out the Rotunda and walked through old town to the Piazza Grande. The Rotunda is an open space below and in the middle of a huge traffic circle. Inside there are food booths, crafts, and bars. At night it got packed and this is where the students spent a good deal of time buying alcohol, which they couldn’t legally buy in the US. The Piazza Grande is filled with 8000 seats and a four-story screen – probably one of the largest in Europe, if not the world. Watching a film in the Piazza under the stars with 8000 people is an unforgettable experience – even if the film sucks. We showed the students the ferry landing and the train station – Jaimey’s ideas. I pointed out the chocolate store and best gelateria. You see now why I am critical to this program?

Our passes cost 300 CHF each, but allowed us access to every film and event. I was able to negotiate a group discount on Pardo neck pass holders. It’s hard to be tres chic in Locarno sans pardo neck pass holders. The pardo (leopard) is the prize and the festival mascot, the symbol of Locarno like the palm is the symbol of Cannes. Palme d’Or = Pardo d’Oro.

3 August Milano

We gathered, for the first time, as a 27some, the next morning in the breakfast room of the hotel. Jaimey went over some logistical information and I passed out and collected forms. I had been memorizing the names of the students as they came in and had them all down for the forms.

We led the motley crew to the Duomo, where we met our guide, Celeste – but don’t call her Sell-est, it’s Shell-estay. Despite her pointedness about her name pronunciation, she was quite nice and a good guide, leading us through the Galleria, to La Scala, the castle, and back to the Duomo. Like I said, there isn’t that much for the tourist in Milano. Even though we had confirmed in advance that there were no clothing restrictions for entering the Duomo, of course, when we got there, it was determined that about five women were underdressed for the Lord. Conveniently enough, according to the laws of Italian capitalism, which often profits on the Lord, there were vendors who sold pieces of cloth, which could be used as skirts or shawls. I wonder if the Italian word for scam is scam?

We ended up in a restaurant Jaimey had scouted in advance – he arrived a few days prior in Milano. Lunch was pretty good but Celeste pointed out that most of the students, particularly the women, didn’t finish most of what was on their plate. I tried to explain as best as I could but she just continued to shake her head in disbelief.

Looking back on that day now, I realize I was a bit more vigilant about the students than necessary. Isn’t that always the way? Jaimey walked ahead with Celeste, peppering her with questions. I know this because she had a closed circuit radio she used to communicate with us and she left it on. My job was to bring up the rear and I undertook my job with the utmost conviction. I let not one student behind me. Twice, over the five hours, a student got behind me. I felt bad at the time, but, looking back, that’s a pretty good record for 25 students over that length of time.

Little did I realize that my tedious and tiring efforts were meaningless. Psychologically, the students were clinging to each other – strangers but in a stranger land. Their fear of the unknown was a far more effective clumping mechanism than my feeble shepherding efforts.

3 August Milano

One minute I was bidding Analyn goodbye, and 45 minutes later, I was with Jaimey in a hotel lobby in Milano, welcoming college students. Sometimes the chapters in life stop and start suddenly.

Jaimey runs a program for students from various University of California schools. He asked me to be his assistant due to my experience in student affairs, my familiarity with a few destinations and languages, being a film-maker, and, perhaps mostly, being his friend. Anyway, other than 2 August, it’s a pretty good gig.

That day, however, Jaimey and I took turns greeting and orienting students who had just staggered off the plane, caught a train, and tumbled through the hotel doors. Many of the students arrived before the hotel had cleaned everyone’s room, so some of them sat on and amidst their baggage, sleepily passing time with us.

Swimming in Lago Maggiore, I had managed to clog my right ear. I bought some ear wax removal from a Farmacia around the corner from the hotel. I tried it out and consequently blocked my ear for the next six days. I recall this, because, now, as I write this, 18 days later, my ear is clogged again. I had been very careful swimming in the Mediterranean, keeping my ears above the water to preserve my hearing. It’s hard to do, even buoyed by the salt-water, when you are used to swimming 3 – 4 miles a week with your head underwater. My ears got clogged again here and unclogged on their own a few hours later. Stupidly, last night, when my ear itched, I scratched it and reclogged my ear.

Jaimey and I had greeted nearly all the students and I had done their room assignments, so we decided to take my clogged ear out to dinner. Did you know that Italian food was good? Damn, that was some fine gnocchi! In August the streets of Milano are fairly bare. Thus we were able to prowl about, unencumbered by crowds, and devour some of the best gelato I have ever had. Jaimey, of course, said another place in Milano is much better. I just let Vikas and Jaimey find all the best gelato places for me.

1 August - Cardada

Sunday August 1 was a big day for the Swiss. It’s the day Switzerland was founded. Every Swiss person was legally required to fly, hang, or wear at least 5 flags. It was like the 12^th of September 2001, only no one was rallying around George Bush. Despite the national theme, Analyn and I had only a local and a spiritual goal. Since I had failed to get Analyn real polenta last summer, I had to show her the real thing. Secondly, she had not yet been up to Cardada, the mountain across the lake from my house, above Locarno. She also wanted to go to church since it was Sunday. We had a plan to accomplish all our goals.

To get up to Cimetta, one needs to take the funiculare from Locarno up to Orselina, that’s only 10 minutes. From Orselina, you take the cable car up to Cardada at about 1000 meters. There we enjoyed the observation platform and I asked every employee in sight where the mass was. I got two “I have no idea” and two other answers that contradicted each other.

Then we rode the chairlift up to Cimetta. From there we walked down the hiking trail to an area called Alpe de Cardada, where I found us a mass. As my faithful readers know, I’m not big on masses, but this one was pretty cool. First, it was outside, in the shade of a huge cross. Secondly, it was on an Alpine peak over an amazing blue lake slithering off towards the Po plain. Finally, it was in Italian. I think all masses should have these three components. The paragliders were just gravy. When the proceedings got a little dull I simply watched them catch pockets of wind and float over, under, and around us like slow, silent, and very large bees that don’t sting.

Afterwards, we sat at the nearby restaurant where I had enjoyed polenta last summer with Radu et al – see prior blog. This stuff was autentico, rustico and damn good. I have and will continue to recommend it to anyone who will listen – or read. Analyn got a big platter of local Ticinese meats and I got polenta baked with fennel and mushrooms. Next time I’ll skip the fennel. We sat by the spring and cistern and watched kids and hikers stop by to play or drink. It was he purest, sweetest water I can remember in a long time.

Unfortunately, the rest of the day, literally and figuratively, was downhill as Analyn needed to pack for her flight the next day.

1 August - Cardada

Sunday August 1 was a big day for the Swiss. It’s the day Switzerland was founded. Every Swiss person was legally required to fly, hang, or wear at least 5 flags. It was like the 12^th of September 2001, only no one was rallying around George Bush. Despite the national theme, Analyn and I had only a local and a spiritual goal. Since I had failed to get Analyn real polenta last summer, I had to show her the real thing. Secondly, she had not yet been up to Cardada, the mountain across the lake from my house, above Locarno. She also wanted to go to church since it was Sunday. We had a plan to accomplish all our goals.

To get up to Cimetta, one needs to take the funiculare from Locarno up to Orselina, that’s only 10 minutes. From Orselina, you take the cable car up to Cardada at about 1000 meters. There we enjoyed the observation platform and I asked every employee in sight where the mass was. I got two “I have no idea” and two other answers that contradicted each other.

Then we rode the chairlift up to Cimetta. From there we walked down the hiking trail to an area called Alpe de Cardada, where I found us a mass. As my faithful readers know, I’m not big on masses, but this one was pretty cool. First, it was outside, in the shade of a huge cross. Secondly, it was on an Alpine peak over an amazing blue lake slithering off towards the Po plain. Finally, it was in Italian. I think all masses should have these three components. The paragliders were just gravy. When the proceedings got a little dull I simply watched them catch pockets of wind and float over, under, and around us like slow, silent, and very large bees that don’t sting.

Afterwards, we sat at the nearby restaurant where I had enjoyed polenta last summer with Radu et al – see prior blog. This stuff was autentico, rustico and damn good. I have and will continue to recommend it to anyone who will listen – or read. Analyn got a big platter of local Ticinese meats and I got polenta baked with fennel and mushrooms. Next time I’ll skip the fennel. We sat by the spring and cistern and watched kids and hikers stop by to play or drink. It was he purest, sweetest water I can remember in a long time.

Unfortunately, the rest of the day, literally and figuratively, was downhill as Analyn needed to pack for her flight the next day.

31 July Jungfrau

I had gone with Vikas and his parents to Grindelwald on 4 July, but we hadn’t made it all the way up to the Jungfraujoch. Jungfrau is, I think, the second tallest mountain in Europe. We had left the house at 6am and still did not have enough time to get up to the top since we had to be back for dinner with Marianne and Wälle. I figured that if Analyn and I did it over two days, we’d manage to get to the top.

We had chosen the perfect day – maybe one of the handful of days each year when there are no clouds in the high Alps. We took the train up to Kleine Scheidegg, which is as far as I got a month earlier with Vikas and his family. Then we transferred to another train that took us up, through the Eiger, to Jungfraujoch. Let me ‘splain for a second. Eiger is a huge mountain, recently featured in a film called “North Face” about the Japanese man and two Swiss guides who were the first to climb it about a hundred years ago. I wouldn’t be surprised if this is The North Face. The train, which was probably the offspring of at least one parent who was a funicular, went through the rock face of Eiger, occasionally stopping to let us climb out. Tunnels led us from the tracks to the actual face of Eiger where you could look out through windows at the towns clustered in the valleys below.

Jungfrau, of course, means virgin – probably a reference to the mountain’s snowy peak. But who knows what those old Swiss were really thinking. A joch is a yoke as the train lets out on a bridge, saddle, or yoke between Jungfrau and Mönsch (Monk). The three peaks are near each other in the same range, sibling mountains I guess you’d call them.

After disembarking, the crowds move along cold tunnels to elevators. It’s over 4100 meters, which, I think is well over 12,000 feet. I don’t recall ever having been so high, so I definitely felt a bit woozy. The elevators shot us up another 150m and then we were at the observation platform. If you’re not afraid of heights and are smart enough to have remembered your sunglasses, this is a great place. Unfortunately, I was blinded and clung to the railings.

For the people seeking adventure, there was zip lining, a glacier hike, and an ice cave filled with ice sculptures. They call Jungfraujoch “Top of Europe,” but they might as well call it top of the world. This artificial Alpine peak oasis may be the most international place in the world after Antartica. There were Chinese, Indians, Japanese, Americans, Middle Easterners, Americans and every type of European you could shake an icicle at. And they all wanted Swiss cowbells, plush St. Bernards, and postcards – or maybe a 8 franc half liter of Coke – it helps the world sing in perfect harmony. Anyway, it was a zoo.

Analyn wanted me to take a picture of her hugging Europe. It was a brilliant idea in concept, but a bit hard to execute.

We were due back in San Nazzaro for dinner, so we headed back to the train grudgingly. Little did we realize, however, that half the world also wanted to return down the mountain at the same time. We stood in a pushing crowd for 45 minutes waiting for a train. When we finally got one, it only had standing room. This train, for some reason, took twice as long getting down as the other one had taken going up. After walking around for a couple hours, then in the shoving line, and then trying to stand on a train going down inside a mountain, by the time we got to Kleine Scheidegg, we were pretty pooped. And then we still needed the other train to take us down to Grindelwald. Of course, that was all just a prelude to the three hour drive back home over the Sustenpass. We got back to San Nazzaro too late to properly enjoy Wälle’s amazing melted cheese dinner.

30 July Grindelwald

Last time we went to Interlaken, I took Analyn over the Furka and Grimselpasses, so, this time I took her over the Sustenpass. As you can see in the picture, the glacier on the top is dramatically smaller than it was six years ago when I first saw it. It used to almost reach the lake.

I also finally found the town where Marianne and Wälle used to live. They often referred to a town I thought they called “Wille.” I had never been able to find it so this time I got exact directions from Wälle. Sure enough, the town was right where he said it was, it was just called “Wyler.” Nice place, you should visit sometime.

Analyn was fascinated with Grindelwald. It is a cute town, if a bit touristy. She found us a very nice hotel, and, after sleeping on the too short bed in the studio for too long, it was great to be able to sleep. Plus it was kind of refreshing for it to get cold at night. For dinner we went whole hog on the Swiss experience. We followed up our fondue with cheese-covered potatoes and Cervelat and I got some hefeweizen. I slept like a stone.