A bit of wine tasting in Lavaux to celebrate

I had wanted to walk in Lavaux all year and finally got some time allocated for it. Originally planned as a training walk for South Korean trip, I did not manage to gather enough people to walk from St Saphorin to Lutry. Instead, A&S and K picked me up and we drove to Chexbres, a small village in Lavaux bordering St Saphorin and Dezaley. I was coming to enjoy some lovely landscape and the weather was just perfectly sunny and pleasant 20-24C to painlessly walk for hours.

It was very impressive to see so many labels of wines in some vineyards. I could not even identify some of them, since I am a novice when it comes to wines. We encountered 2-3 groups of 60 year olds, finishing a visit and a tasting, and some individual walkers as well. The path was so clear and wide and every angle gave a beautiful view: a view of plunging vineyards into the lake, and the Alps across the water; looking back there were more vineyards, small houses and blue sky adorned with fluffy little clouds. Old villages in small islands of concrete and rocks provided the odd ringing bells, and the water was echoing the shouts of the rowing club practicing a race on the lake.

One intriguing sight was that of the many roses blooming beautifully amidst the green vines. A touch of colour (red, orange, pale pink), a faint sweet fragrance in the air, and one could feel at peace. In fact, rose plants are used as early indicator of disease or infection, so they are also tended to meticulously.

As we advanced toward Vevey, which we could see early on, we mainly went downhill. Then we took a sharp right turn and ended up closer to the water, following the signs for Bacchus, a promise of wine tasting. We were getting thirsty, with all the yummy grapes we saw and could not eat. Eventually, we found Bacchus, and lamented about the other cellars that seemed to be already closed for the day, or for the lunch break. We took a seat overlooking the vineyard of the shop owner, and tasted St Saphorin and Dezaley, since we were right in between.

I really liked the St Saphorin, with it's lightness and floral after taste. Maybe I was really thirsty and it was the first wine we tasted. The Dezaley was heavier and had a metallic feel to it. We snacked on tomme cheese and saucisson, and were kicked out at 14:00 since they normally close at 13:00...

So we walked down another 300m, admiring the group taking a dive in the lake across the street, and we arrived at Vinorama, another wine tasting spot where you could taste for free, and watch a lovely video for 10min, narrating a year out of a diary of a local wine maker. This time, we tasted a dessert wine, and just the name itself was poetic enough to make anyone buy it. The dessert wines I saw were called perles d'amour, larmes du soleil, etc...

We could stay for hours gazing at the symphony of light playing on the lake, but we still had to climb back up to the car. We drank the 3 L water I was carrying around, and started to climb the steep stairs we used as shortcuts. I only paused 3 times: to take my breath after panting, then to look back at the view which just took my breath away again. I also realized I did not wear any deodorant that day, so I was trying to keep to the shades. I managed to keep up with them 3 somehow, only lagging 20m behind...My excuse was that I was carrying 3 bottles of wine I bought at Vinorama.

We made it safely tot he car, and cooled down with the wind on the way back, along the shores of the Leman. It was a satisfying day out, and I found a new place to enjoy a poetic walk, calling it fondly my not so distant backyard.

やった〜〜〜

やっぱり　すごくうれい　です。
元気　に　なって、あたらしい　未来　お　みって、希望　お　もって　います。
もっと　勉強　します。

来月　JET の　つもり　働きます。

A week of pain

I didn't really plan it on purpose, but this week was the week of all pains. First there was the cleaning at the dentist, where the drill's contact with some parts of my teeth raised some nonexistent hairs off my legs. The diagnostic was very positive though, as apparently I have clean teeth and even my gums became healthy. It is always satisfying to be told I am doing something right. In any case, I won't be seeing that soft speaking hygienist until in 9 months.

Then this morning I got rid of some unwanted facial hair that surprisingly didn't raise a millimeter during the painful dentist procedure. In a mere 30min, with a thread, a professional kindly pulled the offenders, one by one, painfully protesting to my whole brain. Tears were falling without any sorrow. I knew there was a reason I didn't volunteer for these treatments often!

And finally, the nail fillers this afternoon just finished, after one hour of another professional fiddling with my short nails, filing away the hardened gel, then my own nerves under my poor nails. As usual, the worst part was when I put my hands inside the UV box, and piercing pain shoot through each finger as the gel hardened. Beautiful is made of this stuff...

I am afraid I forced myself onto so many out of body experience to avoid the pain that I may still wandering about, looking for a poem, playing a feel good song....

Or maybe the out of body experience is to look at the result and feel happy all is over...to avoid which reality?

The end of summer at Mont Blanc

The high temperatures of August are becoming memories, and rain and wind are welcoming September. It is on this day that Darja and I are going to Mont Blanc. Yes, as if the landmark were an easy destination next door. I needed a bit of convincing from the other ladies to go, since I am in no shape to go climb some ice walls and walk in neck deep snow...all that in above 3000m altitude.

In fact, it turns out there is a relatively mundane access from Chamonix Mont Blanc. On today's weather, it is very cloudy and rainy, or snowy above 2000m, so we really didn't expect to claim the peak. Nevertheless I woke up at 6am again to go to the airport and wait for the shuttle she booked. After grabbing some breakfast at the arrival terminal, we had to wait for the other passengers. It was a bit strange to wait for a plane to land when you were not expecting anyone.

Instead of leaving at 8:15am, we finally drove off shortly before 10!!! In the van, someone had flown from Washington DC, some from Ohio...I was missing my bed...

We were dropped off in front of the funicular to the Aiguille du Midi at around 11am, and we checked the visibility from the webcams (none), the price and schedule, before wandering in Chamonix to get a feel of things and decide whether or not to go up there. Eventually we took our tickets and hopped on a rather full funicular.

We left the world of colour for a trip towards a thick, fluffy, silent fog, and ended up in a world where white prevails.

There are 2 funiculars to take, and on a clear day, there are many trails worth taking after the first funicular. But we were having a special day and visibility was not optimum and snow made every trail slippery. So we just aimed for the top of the funicular to get to the Aiguille du Midi, appearing in front of a shy white sun.

After taking in the effect of the altitude, and getting frozen by an mini blizzard, it was time to grab lunch. We first settled in the local cafeteria, but soon got ejected since picnic was forbidden. So we ate safran rice, bananas, dried figs, tomatoes, more rice and lots of tea in the funicular waiting room, while watching real brave climbers returning from their forays into the glacier, all dressed in red and wearing killer boots and brandishing spikes...ahem.

For digestion, we first climbed up to the souvenir shop, bought some postcard and settles on the bench outside the toilet to write our memories on the cards. A group of Japanese tourists (hum, I wasn't even surprised) assembled in front of us, after we let or seat to an old couple from Tokyo. We chatted a bit and they were impressed. I was more impressed I was getting more comfortable understanding either Japanese or Korean. It was funny how the tour guide took attendance by calling out everyone's names before setting out. I discovered that each group member had a headset, and the tour guide had a microphone and a radio to describe things instead of yelling out loud her surroundings. Of course, that also meant the members could disperse and wander about freely, to then regroup at her command. It is definitely more discreet that the usual umbrella holding or strange item holding to lead the group.

After we posted our cards, we ventured outside and took more photos of the different landmarks, enjoying the surreal presence of the fog everywhere we looked.

And because there was no visibility, we got to visit the actual construction on top of the Aiguille du Midi for free. There was first a small museum of mountaineering which was showing the different old apparels and tools used to build the funiculars into the rock,  then a short corridor carved into the rock leading to the elevator.  Once outside the elevator, more wind and snow awaited us, as well as the litle sign (unfortunately next to the rubbish bin).

After all the cold, we found a room with huge photos of the mountain chain, like giant postcards mirrorring what was outside the huge bay windows.

We could have stayed longer but it was already past 3pm and we still wanted to walk around Chamonix. So with a last look at the bright snow outside, we set out on our journey downward, across the poetic, magic fog. The trip down to town was as crowded, and we played soundtrack quiz to pass the time while being crushed to pulp in an over-packed metal box hanging from a metal cable over a growing snowy mountain.

Back at healthy breathing altitude, I was horrified to find out more runners were still trickling to the finish line of the ultra trail of Mont Blanc. Those people started running the previous night around 7pm, and were still thriving to get back to this finish line! We walked along the stream, meeting some runners on their way to the finish line, and we applauded them like every viewers. We even cheered for an unknown Japanese runner, only identified as such by the small Japan flag on his backpack. All in all they were all thin, dirty with mud, carrying 2 walking sticks, a backpack and bottle, a surely a dose of mental strength.

We just found a spot to walk on the dirt, and resume our chitchat about the different dramas we had watched.

As evening started to fall in Chamonix, we walked along the shopping street one more time, looking for a cozy coffee shop to rest and wait for our shuttle back. We found this cozy wooden shop in front of the funicular, and chatted about past lives for an hour before hopping into the van again and head back to Geneva airport. A look back provided us with a great view of the Mont Blanc and the Glacier.