Switzerland ohhh Switzerland

October 12, 2010, 7:51 pm
Filed under: Europe

Ok, after a stint of exactly three months in Switzerland, and after the old adage of reporting on our whereabouts after we leave a country, I feel it is best to point out some of the highlights we’ve been up to in the land of cheese and chocolate.

The Number 1 processed meat snag: the Swiss cervelat

Firstly our arrival in the height of summer meant a lot of grilled meats and none more celebrated and revered than all is the Swiss fat squat sausage called a cervelat. Funnily enough, this snag has had a rather jagged recent history as with tradition preparation, it is speared on a stick, grilled over an open fire curls in a uniform crescent and eaten with Swiss condiments in a handy and convenient tube, mayo and mustard tube squirted generously over the end. A few hot summers back due to the popularity of this humble snag its casing sourced from the bovine variety, resulted in a Swiss supply unable to keep up with the grill demand. Here comes Brazil where cowboys and cow innards are a plenty and the cervelat was saved by its skin. Unfortunately, so did EU regulations in banning the import of beefy body parts including intestines to thwart another outbreak of European B.S.E. Apparently Uruguayan skins don’t cut it and make crooked cervelats, Argentinians too fatty and artificial and pig skins too tough. So this may be our last time of eating the endangered Swiss cervelats unless an alternative can be found, so bon appetite!

a few seconds later the sausage was a goner

I'll show you my sausage if you show me yours

Bee Keeping

The bees have been busy in an old Capuchin convent in Solothurn and by helping the eldest Lanz sibling, Kathrin we managed to extract and jar over 90 kilos of the sweet sticky stuff. Unbeknown to us, the bees also decided to work harder than ever and were awarded a bronze medal at an international honey competition in the wild honey category. Scraping the wax casing off hive frames laden with honey and placing them in the extractor was easy except for the occasional blow out with a large hole in the wax sheet from spinning too fast. So getting honey seemed like child’s play until the bees realised that their bounty was missing and along with some wayward wasps and flew around us looking for the guilty party during the process. Luckily, without a sting, we got the job done with smoko breaks courtesy of the nuns providing coffee, cake and ice cream.

wax blow out, hence work safety precaution

we've been busy

Walking

Swiss mountains go hand in hand with walking, and with public transport accessing all the country’s nooks and crannies, I feel I can’t let words do justice to all the walks we did rather whet your appetites and put some hiking boots on and goes and explore the paths for yourselves. However, the best thing about Swiss walks is the signposting. The whole path network, which at over 60,000km is almost as extensive as the national road system, is in true Swiss efficiency, well signposted. Every Wanderweg is dotted with the distinctive yellow signs. These are not just a moss-covered wooden arrow saying this way, they are immaculate metal yellow signs telling you how long a walk it is to various other points. The times given are alarmingly painstakingly accurate without breaks, and the signs really do pop up everywhere – mountain tops, town centres, train stations, valleys and roads leading to nowhere – but I’ve never seen a dirty, rusty, graffitied or incomplete one. Oh, and another reason to get into the Swiss mountains is that 2010 is the Jahr des Wanderen ‘The Year of Hiking’ but I guess you knew that already as you’re on the hop while reading this.

quo vadis?

again, a few seconds later Kat's arm nearly wrenched off

first we had to chase all the Japanese away

coffee with schnapps. after a few you don't need any more beenies

we met those Aussies hobbits on the way

claiming new land for the country

on the road to nowhere. more hobbits

The dragon of the Black sea

There was a little Swiss alpine sea

Known as the Schwarzsee,

Where our mate Wale the blacksmith

Who can’t let his artistic talents in metal be,

Whipped up a mystical dragon in a jiff

Overlooking the little Swiss alpine sea….

how to build your own huge dragon

what kind of superglue did you use?

Philippe the French Ambassador

Philippe, an eighteen year-old Greek land tortoise has been enjoying his summer residence in Kathrin’s backyard. Apart from becoming one of my favourite all time low maintenance pets, for a tortoise he’s shown a lot of personality as he eats clover and in kills slugs in slow motion, tries to escape (slowly) through gaps in the fence and snorts when he’s really mad at the world. His public appearance is usually in the warmer months in Switzerland before he hibernates under a pile of wood chips for a cosy five months. So on the last day in the country it was adieu not only for the pigeons but also Philippe with a lukewarm bath for a shit and a shave. Well a last poo and a rub with Panzeröl (tank oil) on his shell for good luck he is now ready for the winter’s big sleep.

monsieur philippe

Valliser cow fighting – the ultimate bovine supremacy in the cow battle again over all other cows?

Yes, you did read the heading correctly, I said cow fighting. For the uninitiated (which I assume is pretty much all of you), Swiss cow fighting is the traditional sport in the canton Valais, where farmers pit their prize special breeds ladies against those bovines of his countrymen in the hopes of one of his girls bringing home the title of La Reine des Reines –the queen of queens. In contrast to bull fighting, cow fighting is a bloodless and relatively tame sport: it’s more of a locking-horns-and-shoving match with much clanging of bells and a lot of local spectators necking white wine or coffee with schnapps. Held in Martigny, the finals is a perfect gladiator spectacular held in an old amphitheatre with Swiss Alps as the scenic backdrop. This breed of cow héren, is naturally more aggressive than most, and fight to gain dominance over other cows, rather than to harm them. If a cow refuses to fight when challenged, retreats or just doesn’t have the stomachs for it, she is eliminated. At the end of the day, the winner is the cow who hasn’t backed down from any of her adversaries and displayed the most fighting, mooing and kicking earth to impress one another, then locking horns and pushing. It’s more show than punch and a must-see for a real cowboy atmosphere. Really the whole of Switzerland can be summed up similarily as cows, eccentric locals and walking paths are well, more frequent than the stereotype of chocolate and cheese.