So how to mark the importance of his loss, our recovery from
all the hard work of his final days, and embrace the best of his legacy? By
celebrating his old world charm, his new world sense of adventure, and the
memory of many visits to one of the most beautiful places on earth; a trip to
Glion, Switzerland.
The next day, it was on to the mountains, via a train ride to Montreux. Hotel Victoria perches at 3000 feet above the southern end of Lake Geneva in the village of Glion. No matter that it is a world class old-style European hotel with outstanding copious food; the views from the room and the elegant dining veranda themselves are worth the challenge of getting there…
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View from our room
The hotel, known for its high quality of service,
the distinctive mélange of antiques and art set in spectacular mountain scenery
is an example of the kind of travel that my parents and their parents always
enjoyed. It is fine, European, slow-paced enjoyment.
|
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| Rose walk at Hotel Victoria |
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| Chateau de Chillon |
The writer in me savored the view of the medieval castle of
Chillon, first built a thousand years ago. Its 16th century history
prompted Lord Byron’s famous poem Prisoner
of Chillon and it was one of the settings of Henry James’ Daisy Miller.
We spent our single rainy day perusing the tourist stores in
Montreux, readying itself for the thousands of people attending the
International Jazz Festival the following week.
(Leonard Cohen, African jazz, Salsa, Green Day just to name a few!!!)
While sorry to miss this world-class festival, we retreated to our mountain
aerie and prepared for the next day’s adventure.
With walking sticks and a picnic lunch, we embarked
on an excursion via a rack and pinion electric railway to the summit of Rochers de Nay, at 6700 feet, another 3000 feet above Glion in elevation. The Rochers de Naye (
French, lit. "rocks
of Naye") lie on the watershed between the
Rhone and the
Rhine rivers.
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| Chemin de fer Glion–Rochers-de-Naye |
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| Edelweiss! |
Aside from a marmot zoo (seriously…) this mountain top spectacle came with an alpine flower botanical garden and a changing skyscape alternately hiding and revealing the Sarine valley below and the next alpine peaks.
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| Yes, I did hike a quarter of a mile on a rocky trail at 7,000 feet! |
Determination, arduous work, rewarding beauty; our adventure to this summit was a fine metaphor for the way my mother lives her life, and a fine example of just how she does it; one foot in front of the other with persistence.
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| Snow, sun, clouds all at once... |
The village of
Glion, with its quaint houses, and long history as a resort is also home to
Hill House International School. With
its central campus in London, the school in Glion provides language immersion,
enrichment and holiday recreation for its students. We happened upon a flier for a Sunday evening
concert by the girls’ choir and joined other lucky audience members for a
beautiful performance by this talented group.
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| Church where we heard the concert |
Then came the
visitors; my father’s long-time business associate Paul and his partner
Enzo. They were driven from their home
in Solothurn by a young German man, David, and the five of us made an excursion
to Evian, across the border in France. We had a delicious lunch at the Hotel les
Cygnettes right on Lake Geneva. Yet another delectable meal was capped by
coffee on the veranda of the Royal Hotel on a hill above Evian. Meeting and catching up with these long-time
acquaintances (in German… David spoke no French and little English) was an
interesting sharing of cultural, personal and political perspectives. (Enzo is
originally Italian!) Missing were the raft of jokes my father would surely have
told, but it was a warm and delightful time.
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| The sitting room at the Royal Hotel |
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| The pool with a view at Hotel Victoria |
After another day of walking, swimming and enjoying Hotel Victoria, our long journey back to the U.S. began with the train to Geneva and an overnight visit with our friend Alex. We met him at his office at the United Nations High Commission for Refugees. It was sobering to hear of his work and the work of the Commission in the increasing number of tortured places in the world where people have become refugees. It was challenging to reconcile the idyll we’d just experienced for the last five days with conditions Alex described.
As we headed over
the ocean for home, I was deeply grateful for the opportunity to savor our
family’s past and enjoy the present with my mother in such comfort and
splendor. Darkness, change and light
will follow one upon the next in our lives.
And that’s ok…
We spent our single rainy day perusing the tourist stores in
Montreux, readying itself for the thousands of people attending the
International Jazz Festival the following week.
(Leonard Cohen, African jazz, Salsa, Green Day just to name a few!!!)
While sorry to miss this world-class festival, we retreated to our mountain
aerie and prepared for the next day’s adventure. 
Then came the
visitors; my father’s long-time business associate Paul and his partner
Enzo. They were driven from their home
in Solothurn by a young German man, David, and the five of us made an excursion
to Evian, across the border in France. We had a delicious lunch at the Hotel les
Cygnettes right on Lake Geneva. Yet another delectable meal was capped by
coffee on the veranda of the Royal Hotel on a hill above Evian. Meeting and catching up with these long-time
acquaintances (in German… David spoke no French and little English) was an
interesting sharing of cultural, personal and political perspectives. (Enzo is
originally Italian!) Missing were the raft of jokes my father would surely have
told, but it was a warm and delightful time.
