Hello again
Susanna, one of my second cousins (our grandmothers on the father's side were sisters), has sent me the link to a superb album of photos taken when their local ski club celebrated its 75th anniversary.
The photos are a hoot -- and they were so lucky having a great day of sunshine and perfect snow. See for yourselves and enjoy the chuckle.
Thank you, Susanna, and Theo, the photographer.
Showing posts with label Bernese Oberland. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bernese Oberland. Show all posts
Monday, March 16, 2009
Friday, December 21, 2007
Switzerland: Engstligental in December 2007, Take Three
Hello again
It's an icy, grey day out there. The hoar frost that decorated all the trees and shrubs and painted all the cars white this morning has not melted, despite a half hour of sunshine. At least it's not windy and the city looks very pretty.
Here are some more visual memories of a fantastic weekend in the snow (Dec 15/16, 2007).
No, the above is not the chalet where we stayed, but just a picture postcard view of a typical Bernese mountain dwelling, or chalet, about half-way up to "the house".
Here's the very first glimpse of "the house" at an elevation of approx. 1,800 m asl:
The base of these houses is usually of stone or bricks and mortar, fairly thick, solid walls. The basement, if there is one, often serves as a stable or as a cheese cellar. The upper part of the house is made of local timber, usually beautifully carved (see later for some details). People live in the sunnier front part, the animals at the colder back -- it's a fairly energy-efficient system. Traditionally, these houses were designed for summer living, with single-glazed windows only. Many of them have been converted slightly so they can be rented out to winter holiday makers. Summers are said to be impossible for the zillions of flies and bluebottles attracted by the cattle.
Most houses now have at least a small solar panel for minimal power supply (lighting, radio, perhaps a kettle).
Centre above: the neighbouring house. These are all working dairy cattle alps. The buildings have room for some twenty-odd head of cattle, some pigs and/or goats, and all that these animals require and produce. Plus beds for at least four or five workers. Above right: the house I stayed at. Below the balcony some firewood.
Next two photos: some details of the façade. This is not a very old house, but decorated and inscribed in the traditional manner.
The inscription reads: "Im 1981. Jahr Ruedi Grossen | Zimmermeister war." This is a proud proclamation of the carpenter who designed and erected this house in 1981. A true master signs his work.
The view from the balcony towards the north-west (I think). What a day!
Above: The view from the balcony southwards. At about 4 PM, the sun is low above the horizon ...
No comment! (Except to say I'm pretty proud to have caught that very moment.) The light gets warmer, doesn't it, as only the reddish parts make it through the atmosphere:
The setting sun bathes the peaks above the house in a golden-roseate glow.
Quite some time after sunset the south-south-western sky is still a palette of pastel golds, oranges and lilacs.
Below: l'heure bleue -- the blue hour after sunset and the afterglow. Amazingly, a couple of beautiful brown-orange-cream-black birds (Alpenbraunellen, prunella collaris, Alpine Accentor -- wikipedia has a very good photo at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prunella_collaris) were still out and about, almost pestering us for some food:
I first noticed the birds because they fluttered in (sounds like when you loosely purse your lips, blow out and shake your head sideways very rapidly -- flutter is actually the perfect onomatopoeic word for the sound) . Then they skittered up and down the edge of the roof. While those two were feasting, two of their mates (males?) were singing their little hearts out up there. It's a lovely little song, very cheerful. In all, there must have been five, six or seven birds nearby but only two at a time ever came down to feed while I was there. As soon as the very last sunrays left the mountain tops, they vanished.
A very last ray of sunshine reflected on the peak to the left of the chalet. Then this:
... and this:
Good night! And have a great Holiday, whatever your beliefs, faith, unbelief may be!
Peace!
It's an icy, grey day out there. The hoar frost that decorated all the trees and shrubs and painted all the cars white this morning has not melted, despite a half hour of sunshine. At least it's not windy and the city looks very pretty.
Here are some more visual memories of a fantastic weekend in the snow (Dec 15/16, 2007).
No, the above is not the chalet where we stayed, but just a picture postcard view of a typical Bernese mountain dwelling, or chalet, about half-way up to "the house".Here's the very first glimpse of "the house" at an elevation of approx. 1,800 m asl:
The base of these houses is usually of stone or bricks and mortar, fairly thick, solid walls. The basement, if there is one, often serves as a stable or as a cheese cellar. The upper part of the house is made of local timber, usually beautifully carved (see later for some details). People live in the sunnier front part, the animals at the colder back -- it's a fairly energy-efficient system. Traditionally, these houses were designed for summer living, with single-glazed windows only. Many of them have been converted slightly so they can be rented out to winter holiday makers. Summers are said to be impossible for the zillions of flies and bluebottles attracted by the cattle.Most houses now have at least a small solar panel for minimal power supply (lighting, radio, perhaps a kettle).
Centre above: the neighbouring house. These are all working dairy cattle alps. The buildings have room for some twenty-odd head of cattle, some pigs and/or goats, and all that these animals require and produce. Plus beds for at least four or five workers. Above right: the house I stayed at. Below the balcony some firewood.Next two photos: some details of the façade. This is not a very old house, but decorated and inscribed in the traditional manner.
The inscription reads: "Im 1981. Jahr Ruedi Grossen | Zimmermeister war." This is a proud proclamation of the carpenter who designed and erected this house in 1981. A true master signs his work.
The view from the balcony towards the north-west (I think). What a day!
Above: The view from the balcony southwards. At about 4 PM, the sun is low above the horizon ...
No comment! (Except to say I'm pretty proud to have caught that very moment.) The light gets warmer, doesn't it, as only the reddish parts make it through the atmosphere:
The setting sun bathes the peaks above the house in a golden-roseate glow.
Quite some time after sunset the south-south-western sky is still a palette of pastel golds, oranges and lilacs.Below: l'heure bleue -- the blue hour after sunset and the afterglow. Amazingly, a couple of beautiful brown-orange-cream-black birds (Alpenbraunellen, prunella collaris, Alpine Accentor -- wikipedia has a very good photo at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prunella_collaris) were still out and about, almost pestering us for some food:
I first noticed the birds because they fluttered in (sounds like when you loosely purse your lips, blow out and shake your head sideways very rapidly -- flutter is actually the perfect onomatopoeic word for the sound) . Then they skittered up and down the edge of the roof. While those two were feasting, two of their mates (males?) were singing their little hearts out up there. It's a lovely little song, very cheerful. In all, there must have been five, six or seven birds nearby but only two at a time ever came down to feed while I was there. As soon as the very last sunrays left the mountain tops, they vanished.
A very last ray of sunshine reflected on the peak to the left of the chalet. Then this:
... and this:
Good night! And have a great Holiday, whatever your beliefs, faith, unbelief may be!Peace!
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Switzerland: Engstligental in December 2007, Take Two
Hello again!
As promised, another post on last weekend -- fantastic weather. And a word of caution: I am trying to get my mountain peaks named accurately, but it's a difficult task. I'll have to hire some help... -- and appreciate any feedback.
Approaching snowland -- the verges of the road up the Kander- and Engstligenvalley are snow covered, the peaks in the Niesen range pristine.
Higher and higher the road winds. It was dry that day. In deep winter, there's virtually no getting there without chains, even for 4x4s.
View from among some of the chalets at "Hoechst", 1,585 m asl.
A few minutes after this photo, the near-pristine slope was cut by my guide's tracks. He was not too well pleased when requested to break our steady rhythm, stop laying the track for me across knee-deep powder, to give me a chance to take the photo above – and a few more. Here's one with pristine snow in the foreground, the prepped slope for downhill skiers beyond, and the Elsighorn on the horizon. If you look closely you can just see a "weather vane" of snow being driven across the edge by an icy northerly. Good-weather sign, but ffffffreezing!
Above: windswept Wildstrubel and Wistätthorn (?). I was not quite twenty when I attempted a ski ascent of Wildstrubel -- scuppered by thick fog. More memorable than the steep ascent into massive snow drifts was the burning sensation on my face: I didn't have enough sun-screen with me! One of the most uncomfortable nights in my life followed during which my face came up flaming red and in blisters. At home I'd have put ice or yoghurt on, but in a mountain cabin in the early seventies? One gritted one's teeth. A few days later the skin came off my nose and cheeks and chin in thick scabs -- ugh! 
Top left: Elsighorn (I think), and the rooftop of a typical Swiss mountain chalet beyond the perfect snow.
We were not alone, though, as lots of tracks show. Beyond: some peaks in the southern part of the Niesen range, the tallest one (left) is, I think, the Tuermlihorn.
I love the play of light and shadow.
Higher and higher. That must be Adelboden and some of the higher Alpine peaks on the horizon (top left), possibly the Sanetschhorn.
... above: the northward continuation of the Niesen range, with the Hohniesen, probably, in the centre. I say probably because I can't tell exactly whether that peak is the actual beginning of the chain or whether it's one of the more southerly ones. If it was the beginning, it would be the Niesen; the Hohniesen is a few peaks further south.
I've got loads more photos but am running out of time here.
Look for Take Three sometime tomorrow -- sunsets, afterglows, mountain birds, dawn...
As promised, another post on last weekend -- fantastic weather. And a word of caution: I am trying to get my mountain peaks named accurately, but it's a difficult task. I'll have to hire some help... -- and appreciate any feedback.
Approaching snowland -- the verges of the road up the Kander- and Engstligenvalley are snow covered, the peaks in the Niesen range pristine.
Higher and higher the road winds. It was dry that day. In deep winter, there's virtually no getting there without chains, even for 4x4s.
View from among some of the chalets at "Hoechst", 1,585 m asl.
A few minutes after this photo, the near-pristine slope was cut by my guide's tracks. He was not too well pleased when requested to break our steady rhythm, stop laying the track for me across knee-deep powder, to give me a chance to take the photo above – and a few more. Here's one with pristine snow in the foreground, the prepped slope for downhill skiers beyond, and the Elsighorn on the horizon. If you look closely you can just see a "weather vane" of snow being driven across the edge by an icy northerly. Good-weather sign, but ffffffreezing!
Above: windswept Wildstrubel and Wistätthorn (?). I was not quite twenty when I attempted a ski ascent of Wildstrubel -- scuppered by thick fog. More memorable than the steep ascent into massive snow drifts was the burning sensation on my face: I didn't have enough sun-screen with me! One of the most uncomfortable nights in my life followed during which my face came up flaming red and in blisters. At home I'd have put ice or yoghurt on, but in a mountain cabin in the early seventies? One gritted one's teeth. A few days later the skin came off my nose and cheeks and chin in thick scabs -- ugh! 
Top left: Elsighorn (I think), and the rooftop of a typical Swiss mountain chalet beyond the perfect snow.
We were not alone, though, as lots of tracks show. Beyond: some peaks in the southern part of the Niesen range, the tallest one (left) is, I think, the Tuermlihorn.
I love the play of light and shadow.
Higher and higher. That must be Adelboden and some of the higher Alpine peaks on the horizon (top left), possibly the Sanetschhorn.
... above: the northward continuation of the Niesen range, with the Hohniesen, probably, in the centre. I say probably because I can't tell exactly whether that peak is the actual beginning of the chain or whether it's one of the more southerly ones. If it was the beginning, it would be the Niesen; the Hohniesen is a few peaks further south.
I've got loads more photos but am running out of time here.Look for Take Three sometime tomorrow -- sunsets, afterglows, mountain birds, dawn...
Switzerland: Engstligental in December 2007, Take One
Hello again
Before the week is out and everyone disappears for their Holidays, I want to share with you some photos from last weekend. Unusual amounts of snow, unsual cold late in a year that has broken most records (2007 is even warmer that incredibly warm 2003)!
Friday afternoon, the post-sunset sky above Bern was a lovely display:
Saturday began early, and well: the row of buildings opposite was orange-pink with the rising sun ...
... the sky all colours ...
... the school opposite my sitting-room window reflected the light hitting our walls:
Next thing, the sun peeked out around the corner:
We set off at 11 sharp. Half an hour later, we were beyond Thun. Looking back and holding my camera out the window -- it's so nice not having to drive sometimes (although I LOVE driving, but not necessarily in Switzerland) -- to capture this view:
The snowy steep face of the Simmenfluh beyond the woodland; the white/black peak to its right is the Stockhorn, seen from the south. Beyond (right), the Stockhorn range of the Bernese Pre-Alps.
More next post -- snow pix galore!
Before the week is out and everyone disappears for their Holidays, I want to share with you some photos from last weekend. Unusual amounts of snow, unsual cold late in a year that has broken most records (2007 is even warmer that incredibly warm 2003)!
Friday afternoon, the post-sunset sky above Bern was a lovely display:
Saturday began early, and well: the row of buildings opposite was orange-pink with the rising sun ...
... the sky all colours ...
... the school opposite my sitting-room window reflected the light hitting our walls:
Next thing, the sun peeked out around the corner:
We set off at 11 sharp. Half an hour later, we were beyond Thun. Looking back and holding my camera out the window -- it's so nice not having to drive sometimes (although I LOVE driving, but not necessarily in Switzerland) -- to capture this view:
The snowy steep face of the Simmenfluh beyond the woodland; the white/black peak to its right is the Stockhorn, seen from the south. Beyond (right), the Stockhorn range of the Bernese Pre-Alps.More next post -- snow pix galore!
Friday, July 06, 2007
A day in Spiez, Bernese Oberland/Lake Thun
Hello again!Before the memory fades completely, a look back at last Saturday, June 30, which was a perfectly beautiful day. I had an interpreting gig for a Swiss-Guatemalan human rights NGO -- always highly satisfying events (I don't want to call them jobs because they're so much more)! More on that event on my Spanish-language blog at http://aventurask[dot]blogspot[dot]com...
The above shows the mountain of mountains, a perfect triangle almost from anywhere you look at it. The famous Niesen has been painted and photographed more times than probably the mountain itself cares to acknowledge -- one of the most famous and most impressive renditions must be Paul Klee's Ad Parnassum, currently on show at Zentrum Paul Klee in Berne -- details at http://www.zentrumpaulklee.ch/ww/en/pub/web_root/pro/wechselausstellungen/vorschau.cfm
Here are some impressions from Spiez, a lovely, privileged little town on the western shore of Lake Thun. The climate there allows for white wine production, not very large quantities, admittedly, and there are jokes that call Spiez wine really sour, but I think that's the voice of envy talking. :)
The church has some quirky architectural features, probably from the early 20th century, but I was deep in conversation when I came up close so don't have a better picture. And I'm sure the origins of this church, as of many others along this shore of Lake Thun, go back a long, long way.
Typical Bernese Oberland/Lakeland view on a not very good day. Switzerland is one of the most densely built-up countries in the world and it shows.We had a fairly long run of chilly, damp weather. Nevertheless, these roses seem to be thriving:
Here's a detail from the more sophisticated rose bush -- pity this can't convey the sweet fragrance of that bloom:
... a lovely clump of little roses down by the harbour ...
... and some exotic plants, also down by the harbour, which is one of the lovelier things about Spiez. I took the next picture when it was already rather too dark. But perhaps one of you out there can enhance this photo. It does capture the almost magical atmosphere of the place.
[I am adding this bit a day later, having received someone's comment re brightening things up a bit using my trusted, crusty Mac's iPhoto tools:
... a wee bit better, perhaps -- one does live in hope.]It was a pretty good day for a leisurely sail, as this view demonstrates -- eat your heart out, D.E., ;) ...
... but most people on this Saturday evening had already packed up and gone home to their barbecues, or not yet arrived for the weekend:
Seeing these lovelies really makes me want to do something about my decade-long yen for sailing. Pity the Aare river here isn't sailable! The lakes are all at least a half-hour train ride away...The public pleasure boats of Lake Thun stop here for passengers. One of them is the "Bubenberg", a motor boat, on her way to Thun. She's quite elegant, but not a patch on everyone's darling, on which more after this...
Everybody's darling is the "Blüemlisalp", avenerable, beautifully restored paddle steamer. She was saved from the scrapyard by a public fundraiser and hundreds of hours of voluntary restoration work. I remember her from my childhood days, when she was limping rather than chugging along before taken out of commission and all but rotting away in obscurity. Back in her former glory, here she comes floating into the harbour (I took this photo unable to see the actual frame, so it looks like she's chugging uphill; interesting concept...), with one of the numerous Niederhorns on the horizon, the slopey peak on the right.
Fantastic! ... and there she goes again:
About ten minutes later, she was crossing over to Beatenbuch, or perhaps Merligen:
Spiez harbour has other lovely spots:
Above, a better picture of the Niederhorn as seen from a quiet spot near the embarkation point. Below, some exotic-looking flowers in a parterre by the main road. No idea what these are called.
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