superlative day fin

running in and out of the chapel several times, down through the village to admire it from different vantages - and the surroundings, laying in the snow on our backs to get the best shot of it... soaking our legs tromping to a ruined chapel, the predecessor of that of our admiration, sunset on the mountaintop. eventually we tired of playing, collected our packs from the chapel, paused for chilly mountain water coming out of the public fountain, wiped our faces and set our faces down. quite the winding path down, distracted by the last bit of pink vanishing off a mountain peak and the ascendancy of the brilliant moon. church bells pealing with echoes, 'what switzerland sounds like' finished up in delighted frustration running headlong down the last bit to the just-missed train.

beer is served large in switzerland as we passed the time to the next, and no food to be found: we sketched in the wood-paneled cafe to the amusement of the locals, trains to one place and then another and a late lost arrival in luzern. priceless, superlative day.

another sacred space by Zumthor

people in small towns are genuinely proud of monuments - when we stepped off the train looking lost a family piled into a large van kindly flagged us down and offered us a ride up the hill to the chapel. eager to get to it before the sunset we accepted and were dropped off just far enough down get a full approach around a blind curve, through half the village (four houses) and up to be alone with the simple organic chapel. it's beautiful - not pretentious, a skeleton removed from the walls holding up a leaf-braced roof, a crafted raised floorplate with a miniscule lip separated from the walls as well - sunset light falling in slits on the walls from the clerestory windows. balanced on a point, poised above the mountains.... it fits in with the village somehow, despite it's completely different language, and deserves its overlook into several valleys.

Playground!

inside the baths: wonderful playground, architecturally and experientially. the walls invited you to touch them as the light poured down and in and through the complex, baffled or direct. sound of water pervasive, and low laughs and murmurs. windows onto blinding white mountainsides appreciated by winter sunbathers, steaming underwater entrance to outdoor pool, playing in views and substance of mountains and sunlight. cold pools and snow baths added bite to the experience, hot tubs, meditation rooms, a rough musical grotto and scented flower petal baths soothed it away. steam rooms from mild to intense, invisible bench nooks fading to black away from the one artificial light.

mmmm. excellent time.

timed the bus wrong getting out, leaving us with an hour and a half until the next ride down the mountain. after debate over the craziness of walking along a narrow mountain road we happily took off. rock-flavored snow and icicles, random turnings off the road, ice climbers, mountains veiling and opening up the road ahead... a sheep barn at the arbitrary bus stop, laying head-down a sloping road and looking at the sky, watching shadows stretch across a lonely field up the hill... bus ride down and food (best yogurt around) on the next train to the chapel - sticking our heads out the window into the blowing snow.

Sat 11 Feb 2006 - Zumthor baths

skipping back a week or two...

hmm.... unforgivably i accidentally deleted all my pictures of this weekend - yes, i screamed. so these are a kind donation from tony. the day was certainly wonderful enough that i think several of my mental snapshots will survive for a long time: i hope so anyway. in the meantime i messed with the pictures some to make them a little closer to mine.

Launching our two-week expedition with an excursion to tiny unknown places in switzerland, a chaotic night train from Paris allowed us to wake up saturday morning and become immediately plastered to the windows as the alps shot up around us. train transfer was a delightfully hectic glance at the schedule and sprint around the railyard to hop aboard the running train.

stalled in the small village we sampled swiss pastery (heavier then french, but the apple filling was perfect) and purchased notable swiss-designed bus tickets. transport time all day was spent taking in the scenery - on the bus ride up to vals brown and white terraced valleys were watched over by pure-white mountains beyond, into ever-steeper and more wooded terrain. Vals stop in a small basin, a spot of drab walk up stairs of a generic-bad seventies hotel into the gaudy blue entrance to the baths. using our hour until opening, we snuck around on the snow-covered hill surrounding the cut-stone satin-smooth bath house, then down into the village under avalanche fences and crows, and back for opening.