The Garden I Don't Deserve, or Why I Miss My Mother



One of three apple trees. This one has borne lots of fruit. I've made apple sauce and apple crisp, and if my mom were here, she would help me cut up the apples and freeze them for the winter! Maybe the kids and I will still get to it.



The climbing roses over our outdoor patio. Lucas looks down on these from his bedroom window.

The pear tree.

Two lovely (and really tall) roses by the front door.

 

Are these hydrangeas?

I don't know what these are, but they are really cool-looking, don't you think?

 

Our very odd-looking pears.


Those of you who know me and gardening and especially, those of you who know my mom, will completely understand the title of this post. For others, I'm sure you can figure it out.

One of the things we love about our house is the beautiful yard. Unfortunately, since we have 7-foot-high privacy hedges, we don't really get to share the yard with anyone. So this blog is mostly pictures, my attempt to share the beautiful garden with you!



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A climbing rose next to our driveway.

Some of these pictures posted kind of strangely, but at least they're up!

The Bus Post

Last week we had a couple of cold and rainy days, which made biking to school seem not quite as fun as usual. Spurred on by the colder weather and a drive to school that took me TWENTY MINUTES TO GO ONE MILE (not that I allowed myself to be ruffled by that, of course), we decided it was time to put to the test the stereotype of the wonderful European public transportation system.

Experiment 1: We take the bus home from school. This is easy because first of all, we have no time constraint, so if we miss the bus, that's no problem. Second, we know right where to start, since we pass a bus stop near school every morning. The 43 bus only comes every 15 minutes, so we have to wait a bit. That's actually a good thing, because it takes me some time to fumble the correct change out of my coin purse (no change given at ticket machines) and figure out which buttons to press to buy a 1-hour reduced tariff ticket for each of the kids (I don't need a ticket; since I ride the bus into town for my French class twice a week, I already have a yearly pass). We get on the bus, and I carefully watch the stops. I know what the one near our house looks like, but I don't know the name (plus, it's very possible I wouldn't understand the way the P.A. system on the bus announces it, anyway). As it turns out, our sto, Rochettes, is an "arret sur demande," which means that if we don't press the stop button, the bus doesn't stop. We successfully make it off the bus and walk the quarter-mile home. Mission accomplished!

Experiment 2: We take the bus to school in the morning. This is slightly more complicated, because we have decided to walk to a bus stop that is a bit farther away in order to take the 23 bus, which comes every 6 minutes. We can also take the 22 from the same stop, so between those two buses, we have lots of options. We do, however, want to leave the house by 7:45 so we can catch the 7:57 bus. We're a little late leaving, so we walk/jog most of the way to the stop. As we approach Les Esserts (our stop), I see the 23 pulling away. It's kind of a sinking feeling, but we quickly buy tickets in time for the next bus. This trip takes only about 7 minutes, but the bus is really crowded, mostly with other students going to school. Although the stop where we disembark is closer to the school and the trip on the 23 is quicker, we all agree that we prefer the less crowded 43, even if we have to wave wildly at the driver in the morning to get him to stop for us.

Experiment 3: We take the bus across town for ice cream. Wednesday afternoon is early dismissal, so after a little time for Drew to finish his homework, we board the 2 bus headed to Eaux-Vives, where there is a trendy ice-cream parlor (I need a tempting destination to encourage the kids to join me on this experiement). We ride the bus for about 30 minutes, and end up as the only passengers as we near the "terminus" of the line. The ice cream is as delicious as advertised, although the server is kind of grouchy. Our only hitch comes when we try to find the 2 bus headed back to Onex, and, for about 15 minutes, are completely unable to do so. It turns out that the bus goes back on a different street than it comes on -- important bit of information!

Experiment 4: We hike downtown and plan to catch a bus home, without planning exactly which bus or where to catch it. Armed with bus credit cards for the kids (no more hunting for change) and a week's worth of experience, we spend Saturday morning hiking toward town along the Rhone River (a really lovely  mini-adventure in itself). After a picnic lunch, we start to look for a bus that will take us toward home. We experience an evil omen when we find ourselves in the exact spot where, on our fourth day in Geneva, Eric and I were unable to find a bus to take us home from the bank, where we had been abandoned by our relocation lady (not really her fault; she had another appointment, and we told her we'd be fine). What a difference a month makes, however. It turns out that there was a stop for the 19 bus there the whole time. If we had only known back in August . . . . The lovely walk, combined with the fact that he didn't have to do any driving, made this outing Eric's favorite of our Saturday trips so far.

So, after a week of experimentation, here are our conclusions:

1. Biking is still the fastest and easiest way to travel, but if the weather's bad or you have a lot to carry, the bus is a close second.

2. Riding the bus requires some flexibility. Although the public transportation system is outstanding, we did end up walking a bit to the bus stops and waiting a bit once we got there. Plus, since the buses really do come on time, we had to be more aware of exactly what minute we were leaving the house than we would if biking, driving, or walking.

3. It is time to buy bus passes for the children!

The stop where Eric catches the bus to work every morning.

A City of Contrasts

     Geneva has been a bit of a puzzle to me ever since I first visited in July. I was prepared to absolutely fall in love with the city: prepared for European architectural charm, Swiss cleanliness and efficiency, and majestic alpine scenery. Geneva certainly has all of that, but it is also, well, a city, with all that being a city entails: areas of trashiness, grafitti, construction, ugly buildings. To illustrate, I'm going to share some pictures taken on my run this morning. I dropped the kids off at school (we've been experimenting with the bus, but more about that in a future post) and then started my run in a beautiful park with pedestrian trails, clearly intended for serious pedestrians, because they have directional signs to nearby cities.

I continued along a lovely path that followed the Aire River, then through some residential areas. My run took me through the old town of Onex. . .

 . . . with its charming buildings and cobbled streets. Then I ran through Parc Brot, which is right near our house:

What could be prettier, right? 

Plopped between Old Onex and Park Brot, however, one finds this:

And that kind of thing is all over Onex, and all of Geneva: street construction, building construction, overcrowding, loud drills, and sirens . . . plus traffic like I have rarely seen, including really crazy motorcyclists who drive by the "Italian rules" i.e. no rules.

The last picture I'll include sums up the city for me. It's taken from a bike/pedestrian bridge that the kids and I cross on the way to school, over a major road called Pont Butin. The unattractive apartments, the busy traffic . . . and the breathtaking mountains.

Is Geneva exactly what I pictured? No, but do I love the city? Unequivocally yes.

Learning French

                I have reached a point in my life where I don’t usually have to do things that I find difficult. As a kid, I had to do all kinds of difficult things, things like hitting a ball with a bat, club, racquet, or paddle, for example. Or things like cleaning my room or being nice to my sister. In my regular Ohio life, however, I was used to being pretty good at most of the things I did on a daily basis. Not only that, I’ve always thought of myself as being pretty good linguistically. Languages were always easy for me at school. Perhaps that is why learning French has been such a humbling experience for me. I am not good at French. Really, I am not.

                Thanks to Latin, I understand the idea of conjugating verbs and the idea that nouns have gender. Thanks to Spanish (and English and Latin), the vocabulary of French is (mostly) not that difficult. What is difficult is pronunciation. I can’t quite figure out (and I know I am in good company here) why someone would bother putting an “ent” on the end of a word and then not pronouncing ANY OF THOSE LETTERS! And what is with the unpronounced “s” everywhere, and the fact that when a word begins with a vowel, you just stick the last letter of the previous word onto the front? And why does the word for “they have” sound exactly (to my untrained ears, of course), like the word for “they are”? And how do they make that “r” sound? I am not criticizing French or those who speak it. I understand that English has just as many issues. I pity those who have to – as adults – learn the difference between bare, bare, and bear, or remember how to spell or pronounce “who.” For me, however, this is no problem. I’ve been speaking English fluently for years.

                Then there is the fact that French, compared to English, is a very picky language. You don’t say, “I go to school;” you say, “I go to the school,” and you’d better know whether to use “a,” “au,” or “aux” for “to.” You go “en voiture” (by car) but “a velo” (by bike). Johanna is “ma fille,” but Drew is “mon fils” (here, you don’t say the “l”). To make it worse, Nancy is mon ami, even though she’s female.

                My French teacher’s name is Elodie, and she tells me that French people have the same problems with English. Why do we pronounce “h”? What’s the point of silent “e”? And where are all our articles? I told her English is a lazy language – we’ve flattened out the verb conjugations, gotten rid of articles, and scrapped gender for most nouns.

 I have come to a conclusion. People say that the French (and Franco-Suisse) don’t speak English because they are snooty and mean and like to see us Anglos squirm. Maybe that’s true in some cases, but I don’t think it’s the main reason. I think the main reason is that, if your mouth has been forming French sounds and your brain has been trained to French grammar, English is really hard. I think people just aren’t confident in their language skills. My evidence for this is that usually, when I make my pathetic attempts to communicate in the dominant language, people seem to realize that, as poor as they may think their English is, it’s way better than my French!

I will say, however, that I am very grateful for the opportunity to do something difficult. There is nothing wrong with an exercise in humility. Or mental exercise either, for that matter. I can feel my little brain cells doing their pushups and bicep curls when I crack my French book. After a 90-minute lesson, I can also hear them panting and begging for a water break. Even if I never make it to the place where the guy at Conforama doesn't say, "You can speak English if you want to," the experience is priceless.

Geneva With Some More Admiraals

On Friday, Eric’s parents came to visit. I cannot explain how wonderful it was to have visitors. It was somehow just what we needed to remind us that we’re living in a beautiful place (I know, after Evian and Yvoire, we shouldn’t need any reminding, but we did). The other great thing was that, in showing the Admiraals around, we realized that we do know Geneva better than we did three weeks ago. It was reassuring to see that we are making progress in acclimating, because it doesn’t always feel that way.

                On Saturday, we took the bus with the Admiraals to downtown Geneva. We first toured the Cathedral Saint Pierre (Calvin’s church), and climbed all the steps to the beautiful view from the North Tower. We were all very interested to be in the actual spot where some of the greatest Reformers preached. We then walked to Bastions Park, where we studied the Wall of the Reformers. It’s a monument to the work of Calvin, Farel, Knox, Beze, and others who helped the work of the Reformation in Geneva. There are statures of those four in the middle, with others (e.g. Roger Williams, William the Silent) on either side. Rectangular slabs bearing the names “Luther” and “Zwingli” are on either end. At the top is the great motto (the kids laugh at me, because I cry every time I read it) “Post Tenebras Lux.”

The Cathedral Saint-Pierre

The Center of the Wall of the Reformers: Farel, Calvin, Knox, and Beze

                We played chess with the huge chess sets in Bastions Park and then ate our picnic lunch on a park bench. That’s when we got to see the less-inspiring side of Geneva. A gypsy came up and held out her hand to us for money, refusing to go away. We gave her an apple, and she pointed to our bread and water, so we gave her some of that as well. She wanted more, but we shook our heads, so she finally left. She walked over to the next bench, threw the apple on the ground, the bread in the trash, and poured the water on the ground – then threw the bottle after it. Then she walked up to another group and help out her hand to them. They were smarter and just walked away. We read after we returned home that many gypsies are bused into the city in the morning to beg, then bused out at night. Apparently it’s a very organized outfit that has become a real problem for the city. As those who are instructed to feed the hungry and care for those in need, how are we supposed to respond? I still haven’t come up with the right answer.

                We showed the Admiraals the Jet d’Eau and the lake, took Dad to a few bookstores (I liked that part, too), and headed home to celebrate Drew’s 15^th birthday. It’s actually today, but we thought it would be fun to celebrate with family. The Admiraals left on Sunday, so we’re ready anytime for our next batch of visitors!

Us at the Wall

Evian and Yvoire

September 12, 2011

                Last Wednesday, we went to Evian-les-Bains, which is just 30 miles from us in France along Lake Geneva. The draw was the water bottling plant for the famous Evian water. Lucas, who turns out to be a bottled water connoisseur, says it’s the very best. So we thought it would be fun to see where the water comes from. The drive was long – through lots of little towns where the speed limit is about 30 kph – but very pretty. I was a little bit worried about our hotel, because it was surprisingly inexpensive, but it turned out great. The woman who ran it was from Colorado, so she spoke English with an AMERICAN accent. I never thought of myself as being the kind of person who would miss a familiar accent, but it turns out that I am. Here is the view from our hotel room at night.

And here is the same view in the day.

We looked over a cobbled street with the kind of crowded, narrow buildings I always picture when I think of Europe. The hotel also had a breakfast with . . . here’s the real excitement . . . huge coffee mugs! The kids were more excited about the pain au chocolat (chocolate pastries; they’re everywhere here, but the kids never seem to get sick of them. Johanna ate 5 or 6, and Lucas about the same. I think Drew limited himself to a couple.).

                We had tried, without success, to set up a tour of the bottled water plant before we came to Evian. So we just showed up at the Evian information building, only to be told there were no tours that day. Very disappointing (but it just means we’ll have to go back).  We did go behind the information building to the Source Cachet. This is where the original Evian water comes out, apparently always at 11 degrees Celsius. There were people there filling bottle after bottle, but we just filled our one little half-liter. It was good water. Not being a connoisseur myself, I couldn’t tell if it was the same as in the bottles you buy at the store.

                We walked around Evian for a while, then decided to go home by way of Yvoire, which is supposed to be one of the most beautiful towns in France, with medieval buildings and cobbled streets and a labyrinth garden.  The town was really pretty, and the garden was fun (I loved the apple trees they had trained to grow in a lattice pattern with their branches straight out to the side). The town, on the whole, however, was rather touristy. It felt like Mackinaw City in Michigan, rather than like a real place where real people live. We did get some excellent sandwiches and Belgian Fries (seemed the same as French Fries to us)at a place called Lulu. We also had a great time watching the waterfowl. The kids wanted to feed the ducks, but the swans were real bullies. Whenever we threw food to the ducks, the swans would come cruising up and grab it. When we refused to throw any more, the birds sailed around to the other side of the rocks where we were sitting, looking for all the world like they were going to make a sneak attack from the rear. The ducks turned out to be "red in tooth and claw" as well, however. We tried to feed a small bird, and one of the duck grabbed the poor bird in it's beak and shook it until we thought it was dead. It turned out to be okay, but we were kind of disenchanted with the ducks.

               

Some Pictures of Our House

This is what our house looks like from the back yard. Our window is on the second floor (which here is called the first floor. The first floor is called the ground floor. Confusing until I caught on.)

This is taken while standing in the back yard. You are looking at the veranda on the left and the living room window on the right.

This is actually the neighbor's house, but it gives you a better idea of what the front of houses here looks like.

This is our front door, which faces our driveway, but not the street. The alien in sitting in the right-hand window.

This is the view from the end of our driveway. Those are the Jura mountains in the background. We've met a few neighbors. They're perfectly nice, but not super outgoing. They are both elderly couples with grown children, and they speak very good English.

I have a friend . . . okay, at least an acquaintance . . . and a little bit of a social life!

September 9, 2011

I have a friend . . . okay, at least an acquaintance . . . and a little bit of a social life!

                The big news, as you can see from the post title, is that I actually have a friend . . . or at least someone to talk to when we’re waiting to pick up the kids. We met the first day of school, because her daughter is in Luc’s class and we were both trying to figure out where all the English-speaking people were. Their family moved here just a few weeks before ours – from London, and she knows even fewer people in Geneva than I do, although she is closer to home. Anyway, we’re going to have coffee next week, and, considering that my life has centered around the four other Admiraals in town (I’m not complaining about that, by the way), a coffee date feels like a bustling social life.  But it gets better – IIL is also having a coffee for parents on Wednesday morning AND church Bible study starts on Thursday AND I have French lessons on Tuesday and Friday . . . so it seems that I am actually developing a life of my own.

                The irony of it all is that our long-awaited sea shipment is also scheduled to come this week, so I will have to find time to unpack all of our belongings. When it rains, it pours. I cannot adequately communicate, however, how delighted I will be to see my pots and pans.

                In other family social news, Johanna has been invited to a birthday party, and youth group activities begin at church this Sunday. Drew and Johanna will have a group called Fusion every Sunday night. I’m cooking lasagna this Sunday  for the group. (Note to self: In the future, consider waiting until the arrival of your dishes before you offer to feed a group of hungry teens.) Every other week on Friday, Lucas has FAT (which stands for something; I’m unsure what). And once we get truly moved in, we can start having people over, which will be nice. We’re looking forward to expanding the Admiraal group for the weekend as well – Eric’s parents are stopping in to see us and tour the Reformation sites in Geneva after spending some time in the Netherlands and Belgium.

Geneva -- First Impressions

August 25, 2011

Our trip to Geneva went really well. The kids were troopers at the airport and on the airplane; they had a great time. Unfortunately, none of us slept much, and when we arrived, our air shipment came and we had to inspect the house (to record any damage so we aren’t charged for it at the end of our stay). So we didn’t nap at all and by about 5 p.m., we were so tired we couldn’t stay awake, despite our best intentions to transfer to Geneva time right away. After a few sleepless nights and exhausting days, we seem to be mostly adjusted.  Eric took off for Spain Wednesday morning and returned Thursday night, so he’s really a world traveler.

After four days here, these are my initial impressions.

Things I love about Geneva:

1. Our house! It’s a really cute villa with a brown tile roof and white concrete walls (they look like stucco). The inside walls are also concrete, which is a little odd 9not for Geneva, just to me). We have a super cool Ikea –looking kitchen with a lot of clever storage and built-in appliances. We also have two apple trees and a pear tree in the yard, along with black raspberries and grapes. This is all good because food here is really expensive. If we can just figure out how to get free meat, we’ll be in great shape. The neighbor does seem to have chickens . . . .

2. So many beautiful places are within walking and biking distance. Johanna and I went exploring today and found a path along the Rhone River that goes either into Geneva or off to the West for miles. We can also walk to three grocery stores, a mall, Eric’s work, the kids’ school, swimming pools, tennis courts, etc.  Apparently, one can also walk or bike to France, but we haven’t figured out how to do that yet. Some of our exploration (okay, most of it) has resulted in our becoming quite lost (see below).

3. Public transportation – trams, trains, buses, boats – takes you everywhere!

4. Pop. They sell flavored syrup in the store, and you can add it to sparkling water to make your own soda. How fun is that?

5. The metric system – 5 kilometers sounds like a much longer run than 3 miles, doesn’t  it?

Things that will take some getting used to:

1. Grocery stores. Little selection, prices are crazy. We’re trying France soon. I do have to say, I like Aldi-Suisse. The meat there is still really expensive, though, and it comes in tiny packages.

2. Finding one’s way around is no picnic. Geneva’s roads are curvy, narrow, and dead-end without warning. Also they change their names every few yards (meters, sorry). We were nearly disastrously lost trying to follow the Route du Rhone bike trail to downtown Geneva. We ended up in the middle of the very congested neighborhood of Plainpalais. Not the place for children on bikes. I think I lost about 5 pounds from the stress. Coming back, I led us astray again, but this time we ended up going on a huge bridge over the Rhone – out of our way, but very beautiful. We also spend about an hour trying to find Immigration services. Turns out it’s about half a kilometer from our house. Now we know.

3. Feeling really stupid most of the time. Yesterday at Swisscom (trying to get cell phones and Internet – which didn’t work, by the way, because we don’t have an official residence card yet), the customer service rep said he didn’t speak English. So I tried in French, and he finally said, “Just speak English slowly.” Everyone here says they can’t speak English, but they really can. The exception was the moving guy, whom I had to call today to have our empty boxes taken away. Fortunately, I had looked up and written down something that apparently sounded enough like, “Please come get the boxes,” that he was able to understand me. Thank God for small victories! Also, I don’t know a lot of rules for biking, walking, driving – I feel like I’m constantly making mistakes.

All in all, this has been an exhausting, but really worthwhile week. Drew keeps saying, “I love Geneva!” We’ve had lots of family adventures, and the kids are getting along like champions and being the best sports in the world. Praise God!

Early School Thoughts

September 4, 2011

                The kids have had their first three days of school at Institute International du Lancy (hereinafter referred to as IIL). It has been, as we expected, something of a mixed bag. I’ll begin with the location. The school is less than a mile from our house – outstanding. Our plan was to have the kids walk or bike. Naturally, they want to bike. This is great, because in Geneva, bikes rule. On the other hand, the trip is not a meander down country roads or a straight shot on the Loveland Bike trail. They are biking in town, with the cars, and – in a bit of a different issue – going down and up an incredibly steep hill both ways (we’ve been unable to bike to the top, even on the lowest gear). So I don’t really feel comfortable letting them go alone, particularly the youngest one.  I actually don’t mind the bike ride at the beginning and end of the day; they’d just like a little more freedom. Too bad for now, I guess.

                Academically, I think they’re going to be fine (it’s a little hard to tell after only a few days, but that’s my sense after looking through some of their textbooks). Lucas and Johanna have a study hall at the end of the day every day, and there’s a teacher there to help out with homework, which is really nice. Lucas’ math book is very British – pounds and pence and the average monthly temperature in Birmingham (not Alabama). The real challenge, though, is going to be French, because we have found out that beginning French is not for beginners. In Johanna’s class, everyone has taken at least two or three years of French, and the teacher today discussed French politics – in French. I told her to hang in there this week, and if it doesn’t get better, we’ll do something. I’m not quite sure what, but if anyone can climb that mountain, Johanna can. She’s very determined!  Luc doesn’t seem worried. He says that his teacher is helping him, and taught him to say, “Je ne comprend pas,” if he doesn’t understand.  Drew actually ended up in a true beginners class – with the two other students in his grade who truly don’t know the language. This is good, because the rest of his academic schedule is pretty mind-boggling; he has physics, chemistry, biology, math, two English classes, French, Spanish, history, geography, and a few others I can’t remember.

                So that leaves the people. The kids seem to really like their teachers and think they are both good academically and good at keeping order, although after Mars Hill, the school seems pretty loose to them (it does have the reputation of being the strictest in town – one of the draws for me J). The first words out of Johanna’s mouth when I picked them up on Day 1 were, “My friend Lailly . . . . “ And when I said, “Oh, you have a friend?” She said, “Oh Mom, I have so many friends!” Lucas seems to be fitting right in as well.  He even said that two of his friends are church-goers, which is encouraging. Drew hasn’t clicked with anyone in particular yet – and he’s a few-close-friends kind of guy, unlike his siblings -- but he has people to eat with and hang out with at recess. Our great prayer is for a Christian friend for each of them. We’ve also been talking about following the example of Daniel in a strange land. He learned all about his new country, blessed the people there, and knew what to accept and when to stand strong against the culture. We want to be Daniels here!

Church

August 28, 2011

                I think we have found a church! We visited Crossroads Church in Ferney-Voltaire (where the Belchers went when they lived here). Not only were the people there very friendly, but Eric saw two friends from P&G – one of whom hasn’t moved here yet, but was just visiting the area. Right before the service began, one of Eric’s co-workers came in with his family. They are South African and have three children, two girls who are 12 and 14, and a boy who is 9. We had met them on our house-hunting trip, but they live north of the city, so we didn’t expect to run into them much. Eric had thought that they might be Christians, because Russell, the dad, had sent him a list of English-speaking churches. Seeing even a vaguely familiar face made it feel like home. After the service there was a barbecue, and Johanna and the 14-year-old girl really hit it off. SUCH an answer to prayer; Johanna has been happy, but eager/desperate to make a friend.

                The service was similar to North Cincinnati, though maybe a bit more contemporary and casual. The sermon was excellent, and the people seem very mission-focused and interested in world affairs (which makes sense, since it’s a very international church). The man who did the prayer prayed for Khadafi to be touched by the Holy Spirit – that’s a bold prayer! The minister is from Chicago, and he and his wife are very friendly – the kids liked them, too. They also seem to have a lot of activities for children and teens, which begin next week. I’m very hopeful and thankful!

We're hiking in the ALPS!

August 27, 2011

                Today we drove to Chamonix-Mont Blanc, which is about 90 minutes away in France. Mont Blanc is the highest peak in Western Europe – 4810 meters high.  We were really excited to see the Alps and especially, to go up the Aiguille du Midi cable car to a peak 3842 meters high. Our trip began with some difficulty. The GPS that came with our rental car gives us bizarre directions like: “Take the exit. Then take the exit,” and, “keep left, then keep right.” We followed the GPS instead of the signs, and took a detour which involved paying two 2.40 Euro tolls to get on and off the motorway and going through customs twice. We did finally find Chamonix, after a drive punctuated by us gasping, oohing, and ahhing over the mountains and holding our breath over the Mont Blanc Viaduct, which is a long, terrifyingly high bridge. When we arrived at the Aiguille du Midi station, the girl at the ticket window told us that the weather was terrible at the peak (about 20 degrees  Fahrenheit, windy, and no visibility). We debated going up anyway, but we didn’t even have warm enough clothes along because our winter clothes haven’t arrived yet. Paying  150 Euros to freeze and look at fog didn’t sound like a great idea (to me anyway – Lucas and Johanna still wanted to go). Very frustrating!

We ended up going to a little amusement park (after getting lost first, of course), and riding a luge, which was kind of like a roller coaster you drive yourself – very fun. Then we decided to take the train to the Mer de Glace, a glacier that’s about  1,600 meters up. That was the best idea of the day. There was no fog at that altitude, the scenery was breathtaking, and going inside a glacier was certainly something we’ve never done. The ice was blue! Inside, they had colored lights, so it looked like the inside of an opal. We walked around a bit at Montenvers, which is where the train stops. I kept looking at Eric and the kids and saying, “We’re hiking in the ALPS!” We were really tempted to try to hike back to Chamonix, but decided it was probably foolish (plus we hadn’t had lunch, and it was after 2), so we took the train back down. Drew: “I can’t stop taking pictures!”

Lucas and Johanna really wanted to go to McDonalds, which we had passed when lost earlier, but I couldn’t see our first eating out in Europe experience being American fast food. We compromised by eating at a very Alpine-looking place (it made me think of our carnotzet) and then having dessert at McDonalds. Eric and I ordered coffee, which came in cups twice the size of the normal Swiss cup – but about a third the size of an American McDonald’s cup. The kids got tiny sundaes. Perhaps this is why Europeans are typically thinner than Americans. On that note, the mattresses on our rental beds are longer and narrower than our US mattresses. Also thinner.  Makes one wonder.

Chamonix is a really beautiful town, and I can’t wait to go back when it’s clearer and scale new heights! (Aided by the cable car, of course.)