So I'm about a week behind, but between traveling to Switzerland last weekend, having a big presentation (called a RWPS--Reading Writing Presenting Showing) this past Monday, a big debate Wednesday, and a crazy art history midterm today on top of preparing to leave Venice for a compulsory 10 day break, I've barely found time to sleep!
After what seemed like a simultaneously short and long 4 days at Casa Artom after Barcelona, Allie, Trevor, Tristan, Robert, and I left for the train station shortly after our art class visit to the Accademia Galleries. In true Jenny fashion, I packed heavy (I mean it's cold in the mountains, right?) so the walk was a bit painful, but otherwise uneventful. The train trip itself was so, so long...3 1/2 hours to Milan (luckily Jess joined us ((she was meeting her Dad in Milan)) and the 6 of us dominated a compartment), 3 more from Milan to Montreaux, then 10 minutes-ish from Montreaux to Aigle. I got chastised on the train from Milan to Montreaux for having my feet on the seat (makes the 4th language I've been yelled at in), and the passport control people (who get on at the border of Italy and Switzerland, check passports, then get off again near Brig) asked us a lot of questions, but we made it without missing a train connection, being majorly delayed, etc. We were all even smart enough to pack sandwiches/snacks for the long haul.
When we got to Aigle (pronounced like Ay-guh) around 10:45, we started to look for our ride (the hostel owners from Gryon had to come pick us up at the station since the local train between cities wasn't running that late). Turns out it was two Australian guys, middle aged, and wearing SHORTS. It was only in the 30s and raining...no biggie. Matt and George were their names and they drove us in their retro white Toyota van from Aigle to Gryon...which involved quite a few pin curl roads up the mountain...needless to say we were all a little green by the time we got to Chalet Martin. Nevertheless, we had to check in, get a tour, learn the rules (no shoes inside the house, don't be noisy after 11pm, so on, so forth), and get fitted for skis. Matt fit us for skis/snowboards/boots/poles in the ski shop and I rented ski clothes since a)I don't own them, b)until I succumbed to peer pressure, I hadn't planned on skiing. He tried to convince us to buy rental insurance in case something happened to the equipment (or we'd have to pay in full for damages). He also convinced us to get up at 7am to go 45 to ski on "Glacier 3000," which sounds um, a little cheesy and not very serious, right?...
The next morning, we all woke up super early, slipped and slid down the path to the van, popped some Dramamine for the curvy road down one mountain and up another, and loaded our gear into the packed van. I sat smooshed between Matt and George since George and I were dubbed the "hurlers" for our potential for getting car sick. Luckily we all made it up to the glacier without any sicknesses (even after a stop for pan au chocolat). Matt dropped us off at the ticket window and told us to meet back at 4 (or risk getting left at the glacier). We all whipped out our ISIC cards (otherwise useless, I promise) to get a discount on lift tickets, then rode 2 gondolas up to the top. The gondola ride alone was pretty much worth the price of the lift ticket...you slowly climb up a 10,000 foot mountain, and I swear it looks like you're going to crash into it right before you lift up a little more (and on the way down, it pretty much flies, which is fun).
At the top, Robert and I realized we were in trouble when we got yelled at (I swear I attract it) for trying to take a chairlift DOWN the mountain. See, the problem was, to get down to the main area where all the ski runs started, you had to ski/snowboard down a series of hills. Pretty steep ones. Mind you the last time I skied, I was maybe 14, it was in Denver, my sister and I did maybe 1 bunny hill run, and gave up. After walking down a part of the hill, I suggested to Robert we use his snowboard as a sled to get down a particularly steep part since we'd die if we tried to go down it via skis/snowboard and because Allie, Tristan, and Trevor were waiting. It was absolutely hilarious...until I let go of my skis at pretty much the top of the hill. I was worried that someone would hurt themselves tripping on them and also that I'd owe stupid Australian Matt 800 Swiss Francs for his skis since I so unwisely opted out of insurance. A fellow skier grabbed them on his way down the hill and gave them to me, so a major crisis was averted, but nevertheless...we made it (all equipment in hand and in one piece) and with Allie, Trevor, and Tristan's help, Robert and I only fell off the t-bars (up to the top of the runs) about 10 times and made our way down the run quite a few times before Robert and I gave up (before we hurt ourselves) and went to the cafe for lunch.
Later that night, we got dinner at a local pizzeria. None of us got pizza (Allie and I split fajitas, Tristan had fondue, and Trevor and Rob both tried a baked toast/ham/egg/cheese deal), and it was expensive, but it was so good and we were exhausted from the day on the glacier. We definitely slept in the next day, then got up, walked 5km (each way) to Villars, the local hotel/ski village further up the mountain (yes, I actually walked 5km, twice, in the snow, I'll give you a second to properly close your mouths after that shock). It was a great town, very laid back and so obviously ski oriented that we stuck out for not having on ski clothes and boots. We just wandered around, shopped, had coffee at a cafe, ate our packed lunches at the train station, and then did more shopping before heading back to the Chalet to cook dinner and hang out. I learned about 8 different card games (including texas hold 'em, which I've been meaning to learn forever now), lost all my chips, and gave up cards in favor for philosophical conversations with Rob and Tristan (apparently mountain air/free time will do that to you...) before going to bed at a "decent" hour so we could get ready for the train trek back.
((Madrid Airport interlude: so because this post is so delayed, I'm attempting to recount Switzerland while traveling to the Canary Islands. And Tristan and I are in the Madrid airport waiting for our connection to Gran Canaria. And the plane ride from Venice to Madrid was, um, interesting. After bumming around the house/city for a bit after the art history midterm, Tristan and I headed for Piazzale Roma to buy bus tickets and catch the bus to the Marco Polo Airport. We checked in, found our gate, and had an early dinner before we boarded. I had heard some negative rumors about Iberia and true to (alleged) form, we boarded and took off about 15 - 20 minutes late, but it wasn't a big deal because we were anticipating a 3+ hour layover in Madrid. The take off was pretty rough, and we had a lot of turbulence, during which I completely uncharacteristically freaked out (the freaking out isn't all that uncharacteristic, just the fact that turbulence, which I've dealt with on literally hundreds of flights in my life, caused it). After we got airborne, Tristan and I moved a few rows back to the very back row to stretch out and rest (and I popped Dramamine...I'm thinking I'm a little dependent...) but it still took a good while to get calmed down (not to mention I'm not exactly looking forward to this next flight). Anyways, in the back row, we got some rest, I calmed down, and then we realized the couple in front of us was totally fine with some serious PDA and ridiculous gum chewing (mental picture, I know, I'm sorry), which, if you know me AT ALL, you know those are pretty much two of my absolute least favorite things period, but especially when I'm confined to a tiny seat on a bumpy airplane. I told Tristan a small part of me really wanted to actually throw up.... all over them. (no really, they totally deserved it. it was just awful). Now we're just hanging out and taking advantage of free WiFi...oh, and I just bought a jacket...not exactly the picture of financial responsibility or practicality, but oh well))
Back to Switzerland...Robert and I really wanted to see the sunrise (the one we barely got to see Friday morning was amazing), so I happened to wake up and see flickers of light coming up over the mountain, so I woke him up and we sat there waiting for the sun to rise. It felt so early/dark, so we checked the time...it was 4:30 am...and we realized we'd gotten up to watch the moon rise. After feeling moronic and then getting some more sleep, we all got up, had breakfast, made more sandwiches for the train, and headed for the nearby local train stop (no curbside service from Matt and George this time). After some confusion, we made it back up to Villars, hopped a bus to Aigle, and got on the Montreaux to Milan train. The Milan to Venice train was so busy...we weren't sure whether to blame it on Sunday being a popular travel day or Carnivale, but 3 of the boys got stuck standing when people came to claim 3 of the seats in our compartment. We got back to Venice and really noticed the transformation...people were everywhere, wearing masks and costumes and filling up the streets and Campos in a very uncharacteristic way...it's very weird to see, plus we're missing the biggest days of the Carinvale celebrations because of our 10 day break. But, I'm beyond thrilled about getting some beach/pool time in for the next 10 days (like I said, coat does not equal practical)...
(The hostel in Switzerland was really cool...it was an old house/"chalet" that was converted into a hostel and it's comprised mostly of wood paneled walls, wood floors, kitschy old furniture, and communal bathrooms. There was a fairly large number of long term residents (aka college kids who visited while studying abroad and never left) in addition to big groups of study abroad kids like us. The whole communal living/one big family approach was definitely interesting and the house itself was so stereotypically Swiss. Despite the long train ride, it was 110% worth it...the views will never be justified via pictures, the skiing was priceless (to do AND watch), the towns were so laid back and friendly...I even enjoyed hearing French instead of Italian for a while! I hope I'll have the chance to go back some time in the future and explore more!)
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