A Travellerspoint blog

Barcelona (Parte Dos)

We have to go back!

After enjoying several days in Madrid, we took a high speed train back to Barcelona (we needed to be there for our flight to Athens) and took the opportunity to catch the sights we had missed several days prior when we were more or less entirely concerned with the Primavera Sound music festival.

Having already seen some of these places during my trip in February, I was excited to return and show them to Nick, Gerst, and Noah.

Our first stop (on this much-warmer-than-February day) was Parc Guell, one of the city's famous sites designed by famous architect (and artist?), Gaudi. His works are beautiful, combining architecture and nature in oddly smooth ways. That, and his use of mosaic tiling make his works easily identifiable throughout the city.

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I was pleased to see that I hadn't found all the wonders of the park on my first trip. Wandering around in the hill area surrounding the main plaza, we found a circling staircase up to a point that offered a breathtaking 360 degree view of Barcelona, from the Mediterranean coast all the way to the hills in the north!

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Making our way out of Parc Guell, we hopped the now incredibly-familiar green metro line down to La Sagrada Familia, another famous Gaudi structure. The massive cathedral, notable for its mix of four very distinct architectural styles, has been under construction for over 100 years, and still isn't complete! Even with cranes and scaffolding though, the detailed sculpture and looming towers prove a very impressive sight.

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We woke early the next morning, and headed straight for the beautiful Barcelona airport (honestly, one of the best airports I've ever been in), wildly excited for our upcoming sailing trip in the Greek Islands!

Posted by ChelseaLeBlanc 11:07 Archived in Spain Tagged barcelona la sagrada familia parc guell Comments (0)

Madrid

On the way to Madrid, we finally got things right. We were able to book a high-speed train in advance, so the journey from Barcelona to Madrid passed by in a blur – literally. Our train flew through the practically uninhabited rough terrain between these two major cities at almost 190 mph. I was surprised to see that until we got to the city limits, the landscape was fairly desert-y. All dry and covered in scrub brush. No suburbs – that’s for sure.

Madrid was gorgeous. Larger than Barcelona with almost 7 million inhabitants, it had a more regal feel. The buildings were older, more ornamental. The streets held fewer beggars, fewer tourist shops. When we first arrived, however, we emerged from the metro right into the middle of another protest! We were in a tent city that has been in place in the Plaza del Sol since the recent elections. The entire plaza was filled with banners, and the tall buildings around us were plastered in messages of protest.

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We spent a chill evening wandering the streets around our exceptionally centrally located hostel. The next morning we joined a walking tour of the city that showed us around some of the older areas and gave us background on the city’s history. I always forget what a young country America is! None of the city’s in America have such a rich history. The tour guide regaled us with stories of conquests and rebellions that stretch back more than 1000 years. Madrid has such a rich cultural history as a mix of European and African rule, Christian and Islamic.

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After getting in the educational bits, we switched back to American mode… shopping! Gerst and I ventured a try at some of the more prominent European fashions (full length rompers!) and we were pleased to see that Nick and Noah were both almost more interested in shopping than we were. During this time, I even got to have some conversations in Spanish with various people in the city and in the shops, which is exciting. In Madrid they actually speak Spanish (in Barcelona, the language is Catalan).

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Yay! With bags in hand and shopping successes all around, we went back to the oldest chocolatier in the city (which we had seen on the tour) to get some churros con chocolate – yum!

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With much of the area surrounding our hostel already explored, we retired to the hostel early to relax, chat, and enjoy a few beers.

The next morning started sunny and warm. The room of our hostel even had a small balcony overlooking the main road right near the center of town, so we were able to enjoy the nice morning from the comfort of our own room. After stocking up on some rations (durem kebabs and a 2 liter of coke of course) we set off into the city to explore the giant, Central-Park-like green space at the center of the city. Mostly tempted by the vastness of this area on our already vast map of Madrid, we were excited to find some good space to relax with our books and play some frisbee!

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The park really was huge. We spent the afternoon getting lost in the maze of criss-crossing paths dotted with foutains, huge stands of trees, and even a “crystal palace”.

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We almost lost track of time in the park, forgetting that we had plans to go see the famous flamenco show Carmen that evening. We quickly found our way out of the park and into some nicer clothes, then walked the short two blocks to the theatre (our hostel really had an EXCELLENT location!). The next two hours were absolutely fantastic. I cannot express what a great show it was! Flamenco is such an energetic, passionate dance. The dancers taunted each other with the loud stomping of their heeled shoes and each flick of their hands, the swirling and flipping of long skirts and the clatter of cassonets. Backed by the frantic strumming of guitar strings and high piping flutes, the dancers twirled and pounded across the stage until they literally threw auras of sweat into the air with each flick of their heads. It was such a captivating show – even in another language, we were all caught up in the drama of this gypsy queen and her tragic loves. When the curtains closed, we all rose to our feet in loud applause. Gerst and I left the theatre singing the show's main theme in high, dramatic voices all the way down the main road while Nick and Noah took turns pounding their own heels and sashaying around us. Mmm, flamenco!

After such a wildly wonderful evening show, we completed our true Madrid experience with another delicious dinner of paella – done right this time! The pan was enormous: a true paella for four. Topped with shrimp, pork, and mussels and accompanied with a nice red wine, the dinner was a delicious success.

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We wandered home through the streets of Madrid, still breaking into bouts of song and a flamenco stomping of heels, and prepared for an early departure back to Barcelona the next morning.

Posted by ChelseaLeBlanc 13:59 Archived in Spain Tagged madrid tour paella flamenco Comments (0)

Barcelona (Parte Uno)

or, "Why be waiting when you could be DANCING?"

Coming back to Barcelona was something of a homecoming for me. I was here in February for the Mobile World Congress, so when we entered the city, it felt like hardly any time had passed. Back to Barca! I was excited to be able to show Nick and Gerst around to the places I had been before: The BarBarBar, the Ferreteria, the giant cat, and doner kebabs! We got in on Friday afternoon from Avignon, France and took a few hours to unpack, grab some food, and check out these nearby sights.

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We enjoyed an oh-so-Barcelona dinner of seafood paella and sangria on Las Ramblas (a long boulevard filled with shops, street performers, and over-priced restaurants) and then explored the nearby plazas. Here, we encountered the first group of street performers that I can honestly say I was totally impressed by. These guys were amazing! It was a group of five or six young guys who were acrobatic beyond all belief. They tumbled and flipped, even leaping onto (yes ONTO) each other’s heads with no visible effort. One guy executed something that I can only describe as a long series of in-place cartwheels/front flips. He literally appeared to be spinning around and around, head-over-feet without ever leaving the tile on which he originally stood. So cool. We threw them some euro coins, and then walked up Las Ramblas toward Plaza Catalunya as night fell.

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As we neared the plaza, the crowd grew thicker and thicker, and the noise kept growing. People were flooding in from every direction, clapping, banging pots with spoons, even clashing beer cans against each other – seemingly doing anything to make noise. We were in the middle of a protest! In the plaza, protestors hung from trees and statues, huge red banners draped from the lamp-posts, billboards grafitti’d in messages of freedom. All three of us looked at each other, excited to be in the midst of this massive protest, but unsure what was being protested. We later found out (from the bartender at an Australian bar we happened to wander into) that the residents of Barcelona were holding a peaceful demonstration for the independence of Catalunya – the region of Spain in which Barcelona is located. Very interesting!

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Later that evening at the hostel, we met up with some Aussies in the common room, played a few games of cards, and then headed out with them to Razzmatazz – supposedly one of the best night clubs in Barcelona. Barcelona is definitely a party city. Barcelona doesn’t sleep. The club was crazy – different floors and rooms for any style of music or dance you could want! Fun fun fun! Finally, after losing our Aussie friends in the madness, at 4:30 am we decided to leave (and trust me, that’s kind of early in Barcelona), but after leaving, we realized that the metro wouldn’t be running until 5 or 6 am … we were stranded! Exhausted from hours of dancing, we gave in and decided to just wait it out. However, after several minutes, a tall Spanish guy in a cool hat (who Gerst later deemed “homeboy”) danced over to us from across the street where a small group of locals were listening to music in their cars and chatting. He was grooving hard to his electronic music, and his enthusiasm was infectious as he invited us to hang out with him and his friends and then head back into Razzmatazz until the metro opened – why waste time waiting when we could be dancing?

Finally (FINALLY) around 6 am, we said goodbye to Razzmatazz for good and took part in traditional Spanish custom: getting late night (early morning?) churros from a stand on the street! Churros are a sweet, fried dough covered in sugar. They make for the most delicious treat after a long night. Exhausted and happy, we made our way back into the hostel on the now-open metro, and once again collapsed into bed just as the sun began peeking over the horizon.

We woke Saturday (late!) in excitement – it was finally time for the music festival for which we had come to Barcelona! Primavera Sound, a huge three -day indie music festival was going on with headliners like Animal Collective, Sufjan Stevens, Of Montreal, Fleet Foxes and The Flaming Lips, and we had tickets to day three! With the venue situated right on the Mediterranean and the sun blazing, it was picture perfect.

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Nick is probably more qualified to describe the concert itself, so he’ll take over this next part:

We all set a new record for the longest concert we’ve ever been to: 10 hours. Ten hours of music from different genres, at different stages, at different times. The festival was awesome. There were 7 stages with bands playing at all times between 5:30pm until 3:30am+. I wished I was two different people (even three at some points) so I could see all the bands that I wanted to, but that is the way it goes with music festivals. However, the bands that we did manage to squeeze in were fantastic! The bands themselves were excited to be at such a huge festival all the way in Spain (a lot of the bands were American), and of course this energy from the bands transferred into the crowds who kept at it into the wee hours of the morning (though I suppose 3:00am is practically the start of the evening for some Barcelonians). The circuit that we saw was:

• The Tallest Man on Earth
• Cloud Nothings
• Fleet Foxes
• The Album Leaf
• Rubik
• Money Mark
• Mogwai
• Animal Collective

The first awesome showing was Fleet Foxes, who played at 7:40pm for about an hour. They are an indie folk rock band, with influence from a variety of bands, including The Beatles. All three of us were already fans of this band before the trip, but are even bigger fans now. The band did a good job of balancing showing off songs from their new album and jamming along to fan favorites from their older work. Not only that, but the live versions of their songs were just so much more epic than the album versions. The songs were louder, longer, and just more intense. And they were very talented – each of the 6 band members could play multiple instruments. On the lesser end of the spectrum, the main singer used the guitar (both acoustic and electric). On the more extreme end, another band member played the standing bass, flute, maracas, guitar, tambourine, violin, banjo, bassoon, and citar. And that is just what I noticed. Each of the very talented band members were happily rocking out the whole time, and so was the MASSIVE crowd.

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The other show that stood out to me was of course Animal Collective (described as future experimental pop rock kinda sort of – they have been around for a long time and are at the forefront of experimental indie music). This was the band I was most excited to see, and they certainly performed to my expectations and then some. We waited for an hour at the stage in order to get a good spot, and for me it was worth it. We were about 6 or 7 rows from the front of the stage (standing room only of course), so I could see each of the 4 band members very clearly. Unfortunately, due to the smaller stature of the female body, the girls had a little bit more trouble than I did seeing everything due to some tall crowd members. Sorry girls. The performance was full with brand new material by the band, so I felt very lucky to be able to hear it (their next cd probably won’t come out until next year even). They played around 14 songs, of which 4 were songs I recognized from their older albums.

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Another late night, but a concert well-worth the price! We got up early the next morning to meet Noah at the train station (his trip from Amsterdam took longer than expected so he did not get to Barcelona on time for the concert!). With the few hours until our train left for Madrid, we caught some more sights and grabbed our now-group-famous durem kebabs, then hit the road for Madrid!

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Posted by ChelseaLeBlanc 14:06 Archived in Spain Tagged barcelona concert sound primavera Comments (1)

Avignon

or "Hot stone massages on the cheap"

Without spoiling the story, I can tell you that we entered Avignon, France the same way we left it: in a thirty minute long panic-driven speed-jog across the city, laden with heavy packs and improperly dressed for travel of this sort. That said, the two interior days of our time spent in Avignon were quite calm.

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When we first arrived in Avignon, it was about 9 pm and about 90 degrees. Dressed in shorts and tank tops, we were all still dripping sweat. However, emerging from the train station, I had to suppress the urge to laugh. Right across from us stood a tall stone wall that appeared to wrap around the city in either direction, complete with towers and ramparts. After all the mimicries in America of such medieval architecture, it was hard to believe that this was the real thing. It seemed like an amusement park. Convincing myself of its validity, we soon realized that we had a good 45 minute walk ahead of us to our hostel that was located outside of town, across two wide rivers, and on top of a cliff overlooking Avignon proper. Yikes. And the hostel reception was closing in 30 minutes.

We flew. After getting lost a few times (but in the process, getting a wonderful view of the Rhone river at night!), we finally found our way up to the YMCA of Avignon. And found that it was closed. I was too tired to be upset, but Gerst and Nick loudly let it be known that they weren’t exactly… pleased. Several times. To anyone that might be in the surrounding two blocks. We sulked back toward the city centre intending to find a hostel, but were stopped by a strolling pair we had seen earlier: a girl about our age, and an older man. They laughed, and said they would show us how to get into the YMCA – no fear! It turned out that late-night reception was hidden away up a staircase and behind the pool. Yes, we had a pool. We ended up hanging out with these two as well as the guy that was running reception for the evening, and they offered to share their pizza and a bottle of wine with us. We gladly accepted!

It is always so interesting chatting with the other travelers and locals we encounter along the way. The girl, Laurence, was from Quebec, and traveling abroad on her own in France for a month or so. The older man, Patrick, was local and didn’t speak English very well. We didn’t understand much of what he said, even though he enthusiastically said quite a lot! He shared with us a lot of stories about the namesakes of various French towns and words. My favorite was the story of jeans. Nearby Avignon, there is a town called Nimes that is home to many very famous Roman architectural ruins. As the story goes, there was a man from Nimes that used a fabric for his workers’ trousers that was very sturdy and good for the job. He (along with Levy of the famous Levy-Strauss) took the fabric along with the blue dye that makes jeans so famous to the United States to start mass producing these trousers. But the original town still remains famous in the name: they were from Nimes or in French, “de Nimes” = denim. Denim!

On our first full day in Avignon, we just explored the town itself. There is a famous bridge that crosses the Rhone that was built in the 1300’s. Part of it was destroyed in the centuries since then, but the remaining portion still reaches out into the river.

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We also checked out the Palais de Papes (Palace of the Popes) as well as various gardens, plazas, and fresh food markets across the city.

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At the end of our long day, we got the most delicious fresh strawberries, cherries, and oranges from a street vendor and enjoyed a picnic alongside the Rhone (complete with French wine)!

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On the recommendation of Laurence and Patrick, we set out on day two for “Pont du Gard” which is the site of a massive three-layer Roman aqueduct and bridge that spanned a great river about 30 minutes outside of Avignon. We took a bus to get there, and (in the oppressive 90+ degree heat) made a bee-line for the river. Above us stood this towering, beautifully arched construction over 1000 years old. And here we were, beaching and splashing around in the waters beneath it. It felt like sledding on the pyramids or playing soccer at Stonehenge or something. I just can’t get used to the fact that Europe is chockfull of all these historical antiquities, so people just relax around them. Why not do back flips off a bridge built by the Romans themselves?

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We enjoyed a wonderful, hot, sunny day on the banks of the river. Mediterranean France is different and beautiful.

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On the way back to Avignon, we missed our bus. Oops. So we waited around in more 90+ degree heat (which is MUCH less pleasant when you don’t have the respite offered by that beautiful clear blue river!) for an hour and a half. Fortunately, we spotted a woman selling cherries across the way, and got a big basket for 3 euro. And they were delicious! Fresh and juicy, they also offered us a good 45 minutes of entertainment with pit-spitting competitions (both for distance and for accuracy). I’m so glad we’re able to offer a good image of Americans during our time abroad.

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Eventually, we made our way back to Avignon, and dined on a very satisfying 3 course meal – one of our first real meals of the trip! More on that later – our survival habits with regards to food are, to say the least, quite interesting.

And, as alluded to earlier, we woke up this morning to catch the train. It was a mad rush through the city, bags flying, sweat dripping. We ran through the doors just in time … only to find that the train was at a 30 minute delay. Ce la vie.

Onwards to Barcelona!

Posted by ChelseaLeBlanc 13:23 Archived in France Tagged du avignon rhône pont gård Comments (0)

Lauterbrunnen

Is that OUR waterfall?

This is a tale of Lauterbrunnen, Switzerland, and it is a tale of happiness and coincidence. First, for the coincidence. If you haven’t heard of Lauterbrunnen, I wouldn’t be surprised. It is a small Swiss town of less than 3000 occupants, probably many of whom are tourists at any given time. I’d love to say that I found this gem through careful research or through fantastic stories. But no – our love for Lauterbrunnen stemmed from the sound of its name. Sometime last fall, our friend Adam and I ran across Lauterbrunnen in our online meanderings, and it quickly became our favorite thing to say (in our thickest and most ridiculous European accents). I’m sure any of our acquaintances on campus can attest to this. Point being, in the recent planning of this trip, I once again ran across Lauterbrunnen, and can only say this: the town itself is even more fun than saying its name. And that is saying something, indeed.

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After a long day of train travel from Paris (we set a new record – 7 trains in one day!), we finally crossed the border into Switzerland. As we got closer, the landscape transformed. Great hills rose out of the flat farmlands, and rocky crags leaned in above us. With a thunderstorm rolling in from behind the hills, the sight was even more impressive. As our train car tik-tik-tik’d up the hilly tracks toward Lauterbrunnen, we came around a curve and saw right below our window a vast lake of the deepest aquamarine, behind which rose huge mountains. Beautiful!

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When we finally reached Lauterbrunnen, we realized that we couldn’t have found a more idyllic Swiss mountain hideaway. With only one major street (we took bets as to whether it was called ‘Main Street’ or ‘Lauterbrunnen Street’) which held four or five hotels and a single pub, Lauterbrunnen was quaint to the extreme. But the view was the part that I will probably never be able to express. The town is nestled right at the bottom of the tallest glacial valley in the world, with immense granite cliffs rising on both sides, over which cascade crashing white waterfalls. I couldn’t stop staring. If we hadn’t just left, I would probably still be staring.

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I can’t express the vastness of it all. If you’ve ever been to Yosemite, it is something like that … except bigger. Oh, and the part where you’re living right in the center of it all. We could literally walk out onto our hostel’s balcony in the mornings, barefoot and pajama-ed, and look up at four or five waterfalls and these immense snowcapped mountains. It was somewhat surreal. It was so strange trying to remember that we’d been in Paris just days before. The valley was so untouched – in the mornings, you heard only the roar of the waterfalls and the river below you. The sun shone warm over the cliffs and into the valley. And at the bottom of it all, we laid in our yellow recliners, simply enjoying the peace of it all.

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Had there not been so much to do and see, I doubt I would have ever left those chairs – with a book and my iPod and one of the most beautiful views I’ve ever seen, I would have happily stayed there for our entire trip. But of course, with cliffs and mountains comes excellent hiking! During the afternoon of our second day, we found a cable car that ran up to the top of the cliffs (I could NEVER remember the name of the town at the top – Googleslorp or Graleshoot or Gralpsnout or something). From there, we set out for Murren, which was another town at the top of the cliffs several miles away. We took the more strenuous of the two potential routes (the “Mountain View” trail), having been informed that it should be no big deal. We were psyched for an awesome climb, but the first forty minutes or so were … rough. It was a constant ascent. Every time you thought you had reached the top of the ridge, you’d see another huge incline rising before you! But it was so worth it. The views from that height literally made you stop and stare in awe.

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The terrain changed so much as we rose through various altitudes. We passed through everything from thick forest to flat green meadows to rough scrub brush to steep hills covered in wild flowers. Unbelievable. We finally got up to a point where there was still snow lurking in the shadows, which was especially exciting given how hot we were (even wearing shorts and tank tops!). We threw a few snowballs and made a little snowman to look out over the peaks in the distance.

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Further on, we found another large meadow above which rose a tall incline that was climbable. We decided to satisfy a question we’d had – how far can you throw a Frisbee off the top of a mountain? I ran and picked my way up the big incline, and went for the big huck. Man, can a Frisbee fly when it has some distance to fall!

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After several hours, we ended up getting a little lost up in the mountains. Of course, we had a rough idea of where we were based on the peaks we could see (Jungfrau, Eiger, Schiltorn), but the paths get all twisty and crossed when you’re up high. In our confusion, we wound our way down through a small town (if you can call it that – there were maybe seven buildings total), and tried another path into the woods. Nick wandered off the path and into the woods a bit (bad!) but after a while, Gerst and I heard him calling to us in excitement. He had found a zipline in the woods! Turns out the path we had found was the Children’s Adventure Trail! We took turns hopping on and zipping down through the woods and out towards a frightening overview of the dropoff below. What a find!

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Along the hike, every so often we would hear a melodic tinkling of bells from across the hills, especially when we neared the small towns. At one point, we rounded a curve and heard the chiming from within a stand of trees ahead. As we approached, we saw the source of this mountain music – a big group of cows! Up in the hills, it’s exactly like the Sound of Music. All the cows and sheep have big bells around their necks, and when they move, it sends a tinkling melody out on the wind. I love Switzerland!

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Later on in the afternoon, it started raining and we plowed on in determination. We were headed for Gimmelwald, a very small mountain town that we heard about from one of our friends in Bruges. He had been traveling for several months, and said it was the most beautiful place he had seen yet. Needless to say, we wanted to check it out. Following the signs and the rough trail markings, we eventually found our way down to Gimmelwald. At that altitude, Gimmelwald was almost totally cut off from the rest of the valley, with no road access to the towns at the base of the cliff. Like Nick said, “It’s the only town I’ve ever been to that you get to via STAIRS”. We happily descended the stairs set into a hill and into the town.

Wandering through the tiny streets, we saw a sign for fresh Alp cheese and eggs – score! The sign pointed toward a doorbell on a little house. We rang the bell, and shortly afterwards an old woman leaned out from a window three floors above, calling that she would be down in just a moment. Gerst spoke to her briefly in German as she led us across the street to her “cheese house”. This cheese house was adorable. Low ceilinged, and set on a high base right beside the street, the woman had to set up a little wooden step for us to climb into it. Inside, we had to stoop, but were treated to delicious Alp cheese that she aged inside this very house for several years. Yum!

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Having reached the end of our journey, we took the cable car down from Gimmelwald back to the bottom of the valley, and began our trek back through the valley towards Lauterbrunnen. Trying to find home, we looked for familiar landmarks, and realized how strange it was that we had to keep asking ourselves, “is that OUR waterfall?” every time we came across one of the huge cascades of water. Seriously – this was a land right out of a fairytale.

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Day three was rainy and colder. Little to report here – we took the rest day we had been needing. Did laundry at the local laundromat/café/bar/bookstore/adventure booking company. When you live in a town as small as Lauterbrunnen, I suppose you really try to concentrate all your activities in one building. While waiting on the laundry, Gerst and I sat out front on the cushioned patio, reading and enjoying a big rich brownie and lattes as we watched the warm rain pour over the valley. Perfection.

Our fourth day dawned sunny and warm, which was excellent, given that we had scheduled “Canyoning” for this day (which we booked at the Laundromat/café/bar/bookstore/adventure booking company). Canyoning was more or less a guided way to descend through a tall river canyon by floating through rapids, jumping off ledges, and rappelling down cliffs. Fun fun fun! After the tour van picked us up in Lauterbrunnen, we headed back to the group’s headquarters to suit up, which was probably the most difficult part of the trip. Since we’d be swimming through glacial meltwater, we had to squeeze into a very thick rubber full-body wetsuit of two layers. I think we all felt like superheroes.

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Canyoning itself was a riot. Besides myself, Gerst, and Nick, there were two other group members (Pete and Katie from Minnesota) along with our two guides. The guides hopped into the river at the top of the canyon, and told us to just follow what they did, and we’d be fine. Yikes! We started out following them, laid back in the water, and let ourselves slide over the edge of a small waterfall. The water was shockingly cold, but the experience was so much fun! We continued down the canyon, clambering over large boulders, hooking our harnesses up to rappel down the higher cliffs, and sliding every which way down more waterfalls. I only got held up on the highest jump – we had to be really careful about where we jumped, and how we landed in the water so as to avoid hitting any rocks or hitting the bottom of the river. The height made my heart flutter a little, but after catching my breath, I threw myself off the ledge after everyone else into the frothing water below. Woooo!

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Back in Lauterbrunnen, we chilled out for the rest of the afternoon and the evening. Exhausted from our day of canyoning, we all promptly fell asleep in the yellow recliners in the yard as we let the sun dry off the chill from the cold river waters. In the hostel kitchens, we cooked up a delicious pasta dinner, finished off with brie, swiss chocolate, and a bottle of wine, which we enjoyed outside as the sun sank behind the snowcapped mountains. As the stars came out bright in the black sky, we sat back and chatted for hours with some travelers from Canada. The perfect ending to the perfect location.

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Lauterbrunnen, you will be missed!

Posted by ChelseaLeBlanc 15:36 Archived in Switzerland Tagged waterfalls hiking canyon Comments (1)

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