If you’re looking for a fun weekend activity in the Swiss canton of Fribourg, The Fondue Train (or ‘Le train retro’ as it is known in French) may be just the ticket. It combines everything that’s admirable about Switzerland – impeccable organisation, a simple culinary concept, good wine and a picture perfect backdrop against which to enjoy it all.

I took The Fondue Train – run by the canton of Fribourg’s transport authorities – for the third time last autumn and was surprised to find I hadn’t tired of the experience.

The leisurely 40-minute ride on the bright green electric train, from the main station in the town of Bulle to the sleepy village of Montbovon, gave us enough time to enjoy a pre-lunch aperitif as we trundled through the Swiss countryside. It had been a long week and I could feel my shoulders relax as I sunk into my seat with my glass of wine and watched the little villages and the open fields with Fribourg’s signature black and white cows, roll by.

When the train came to a full stop in Montbovon, the ladies serving us got to work lighting the burners and handing out slices of crusty bread along with the vacuum packed sachets of grated Gruyère and Vacherin cheese.

Preparing a fondue from scratch can be a tricky endeavour even for those who know the ropes. To melt a mound of grated cheese into a creamy consistency requires, first and foremost, strong arm muscles for stirring. The correct amount of alcohol, corn starch and other ingredients then need to be introduced into the pot at the right time so that the cheese does not separate or become too thin in consistency. You needn’t worry if you’ve never made a fondue before as the sachets of cheese come prepared with all the necessary ingredients. We only needed to stir the mixture until it was ready to eat.

From the number of Swiss on the train that afternoon, it was clear that the outing has found favour with the locals as well as tourists. I did find this surprising as the Swiss will generally avoid buying pre-prepared fondue cheese, at all costs, as it goes against tradition. But from the remarks I overheard that afternoon, it was clear that the convivial atmosphere trumped the need for an authentic fondue experience.

By the time the meringues with double cream arrived for dessert, the ambience in the train had warmed up considerably and people felt comfortable enough to strike up a conversation with passengers at other tables. At this juncture I would like to offer the following words of caution: please do not take The Fondue Train if you’re unwilling to get up close and personal with strangers! The dining space is limited and I know a few people who did not enjoy the experience for this reason.

This time around, I was only slightly disappointed that we didn’t get to enjoy our pre-lunch drink at the bar or ‘Moléjon’ wagon of the train, which was the case when we took the evening excursion. Instead, we were seated straight away in the restaurant carriage, which meant we didn’t have to move places when the train stopped in Montbovon. I’m not sure if this was a one-off event to accommodate the number of people on the train that day, but it would be worthwhile enquiring about it when making your reservation.

The bar wagon of The Fondue Train

The lunch hour train stops for enough time in Montbovon for a walk around the village and a visit to the local church, though the break in the journey may have been too long for some of the young children. Even the parents who were organised enough to come with card games seemed pleased when the train finally started on its way back to the station in Bulle that afternoon!

The train runs only on Friday and Saturday evenings and at lunch time on the weekends. It’s also possible to reserve the train for birthdays and other events. I know that there are similar excursions organised in other parts of Switzerland and if you’ve been on them, I’d be interested to know of your experience!

DETAILS

Departure:

• Main train station in Bulle, Canton of Fribourg

Cost:

• Adults: CHF 43
• Children: CHF 39 (13 – 20 years)
• Children: CHF 13 (until 13 years of age)
• These prices cover only the cost of the train ticket, the fondue and dessert. Drinks are not included and must be paid for in cash at the end of the trip.

 Dates for winter-spring 2012

• Friday Evening:  20 & 27 January; 10 & 24 February; 23 March; 20 April.
• Saturday afternoon: 14 January; 21 & 28 January; 4 & 25 February; 17 March; 14 April.
• Saturday evening: 11 & 18 February; 3 & 10 March; 21 & 28 April.
• Sunday afternoon: 8, 15, 22, 29 January; 5, 12, 19 & 26 February; 4, 11, 18 & 25 March; 1, 15, 22, 29 April; 6 & 13 May.

This information is available in French and German on the following site: http://www.tpf.ch/fr/voyageurs/offres-speciales/train-fondue.html

 Timing

• Afternoon trips leave from the main train station in Bulle at 11:30 and return around 15:30.
• Evening trips leave from the main station in Bulle at 18:30 and return around 22:00.

Reservations

• Reservations are required. The phone number to call is +41 26 913 05 12
• You can collect and pay for your tickets at the station in Bulle on the day of your trip.

As the world is supposed to end on 21 December 2012, I’ve decided to do the following:

If you’re looking for these prints, you will find them on my favourite site (after Pinterest that is…) Etsy.com

I can’t think of a better way to spend this year! I hope 2012 will be a good one for you all – whatever you decide to do!

Views of the fork and the Charlie Chaplin statue from the lake front in Vevey, Switzerland (©MRandin)

After almost 10 years in Switzerland, I finally saw Vevey’s famous fork, positioned across from the Charlie Chaplin statue on the lake front! There has been much controversy around this fork, which at 8 meters in height and 1.3 meters in width, is made entirely from stainless steel.

The fork was designed by Jean-Pierre Zaugg, a sculptor from Neuchâtel, Switzerland and was embedded in the lake in February 1995 to commemorate the tenth anniversary of Vevey’s Museé de l’alimentation (Food Museum).

Unfortunately, the Alimentarium did not obtain the required authorisation to keep the fork in the waters of Lake Leman after its year long exhibition and it was moved to Littau in the Canton of Lucerne, in the garden outside the Berndorf cutlery factory.

In 2008, the Canton of Vaud finally granted permission for the fork to be brought back to Vevey, which is where we saw it today.

It was a lovely way to spend Christmas day in Switzerland.

I hope you stay safe and happy this holiday season, where ever you are in the world!

You'd never think you'd find a cache in here! (©MRandin)

‘Geocaching’, a nine-letter word that has captured the interest of millions of people around the world, is described as follows:

 Geocaching is a real-world outdoor treasure hunting game. Players try to locate hidden containers, called geocaches, using GPS-enabled devices and then share their experiences online.

When Geocaching.com was launched in September 2000 there were only 75 known geocaches in the world. Today, there are a staggering 1,542,703 active geocaches with more than 5 million geocachers in the community to which M. and I now belong.

Geocaching has given me a reason to stop watching re-runs of Desperate Housewives on a Tuesday evening (there I’ve said it…) and get out of the house for some air after a long day at work.

It is an activity that M. and I enjoy doing together, especially because it has given us a more entertaining use of our beloved I-Phones. This game is the reason why we often get dirt under our nails and mud on our shoes as we follow the flashing blue dot on our I-Phones to locate the hidden container.

But why does geocaching merit mention on a travel blog?

Geocaching is a unique way to discover our region, which up until now we both thought we knew pretty well. Since my colleague Stefan introduced me to the joys of geocaching in August, we have discovered a park in Lausanne that ironically enough, M. drives past practically everyday. Just this afternoon, I was introduced to the Major Davel monument, a mere 500 metres away from where I worked for over two years.

The monument to Major Davel, a major figure in the history of the Canton of Vaud. This spot in Vidy, Lausanne, is where he was decapitated in 1723. We found the cache nearby. (©MRandin)

You may be surprised to find, as we did in Canada, that people have hidden geocaches in your back yard – literally! And as Stefan has shown me, it’s a novel activity to engage in when travelling to other parts of the world.

Interestingly, there are a number of people in our entourage who already know about the game and have some experience finding these caches.

Others, like my brother-in-law to be Darren, are the type of geocachers who prefer the use of a compass and map rather than the facility of a GPS device. According to Darren, a GPS takes all the fun out of geocaching. (He hasn’t been in the family long enough to know about my legendary inability to read even the simplest of maps.)

If you have an I-Phone and want to try out a fun new activity, then this might be it. It’s a good way to involve the children and meet and interact with a new set of people.

Should you decide to try it out, write and let me know about your experience!

The bells of the church in Echandens are our wake up call on a Sunday morning! (©MRandin)

Echandens, a little village in the Swiss Riviera, is better known for its bakery than its 16^th century chateau or pretty white church on the hill. I have called Echandens ‘home’ for the past 5 years and like other residents, I relish having a hot croissant in the bakery’s poky tea room on a Saturday morning.

The queue into the bakery is often long, though the produce at the end of the line makes it worth the wait. Those lucky to find a place in the tea room are never in a hurry to finish reading their newspaper. After all it’s a perfect place to observe the locals and listen in on the village gossip. If you express your irritation in any way, you upset the ladies at the counter and find yourself on the receiving end of an icy “Bonjour”.

This is village life at its best. Take it slow and never rush. In the summers, dining  al fresco is the norm and  the start of good weather is signaled by the sound of people cheerfully clinking wine glasses on their patios in the evenings. If you don’t like the lifestyle you can go live somewhere else.

On the other side of the village is the sixty something hairdresser, with a penchant for alternative medicines and a love of the sun. But aside from a two week holiday in Majorca every year she has never left the village for any extended period of time. Like her sister, who runs her own business a few hundred metres away, they see no need to live anywhere else. The local wine maker, bank clerk and our retired neighbours feel the same way.

The families in Echandens have seen their children and grandchildren grow up together. They pride themselves on being a close knit community and worry that neighbouring Lausanne city will continue to expand into their highly valued postal code.

Unsurprisingly, new residents are seen as interlopers. So you tread gently, offering as much information about yourself before any is offered to you. And when it is, you know that you’ve broken an invisible barrier and are considered a worthy member of the fold.  This means that when you’ve lost your beloved cat, your neighbours will help you look for her and then celebrate with you when she is found.

Having the patience to break into the community is a small price to pay for what the village has to offer.

My husband and I own a view of a chateau and on a clear day we can see the Alps from our balcony.

Echanden’s chateau may not be as regal as the one in Versailles, but it was once the residence of Georges Simenon, the French language’s equivalent of Arthur Conan Doyle. And if that’s not enough it’s rumoured to be haunted.

Ironically it was here that I attended a wedding party, 10 years ago. The couple had married in the little white church on the hill just before and had led their guests in procession to the chateau for the first part of the wedding celebrations.

As I walked through the garden with a glass of champagne in hand, I wondered what it would be like to live in this place.

Now I know.

I feel like a proud mother waiting here behind the glass barrier that separates me from the airfield. But the video camera isn’t for my child. It’s for my husband, Michel, who is right now carrying out final checks on a tiny DA40 airplane with his instructor. In a few minutes he will climb into the pilot’s seat for his first flight and I’ve promised to immortalise the moment on video.

Only I forgot to charge the battery to the video camera last night and it looks like it’s going to die before the plane has a chance to get onto the runway.

Michel looks up from his work to give me a smile and a wave. I return them both and hope that I’ve sufficiently masked the panic on my face as I realise there’s only 20% of battery left.

“Stay calm, Vanessa”, I say to myself. But staying calm has never been my strongest virtue – precisely the reason why I would’ve loved my husband to sink his teeth into a less stressful hobby, like stamp collecting for example. But in the 10 years we’ve been together I’ve learnt that his happiness is found in challenging situations.

Our first backpacking trip to the islands of Cabo Verde in 2003 is a case in point.

I was ready to go home after a particularly scary landing on the island of Santiago, where the brakes on the plane failed to catch due to the torrential rain. If my nerves were frayed, the whole experience only energised Michel and boosted his adrenaline level.

I calmed down somewhat during the bus ride from the airport into the town of Assomada, our first port of call on the island. The trip was entertaining and reminded me of holidays in India when we managed to pack mini vans with small armies of people and their belongings. But this feeling slowly gave way to annoyance as a shifty Cape Verdian woman flirted outrageously with Michel and then followed us around the island for the rest of our time there.

The experience wouldn't have been complete without a glass of this. Please don't ask me what 'this' is as neither of us could muster up the courage to enquire. (©MRandin)

Oh, and did I mention the 6 hour trek in the blistering heat of the Cabo Verdian sun with only a small lipstick marked bottle of water, given to us by two kindly Russian women we met along the way?

The village "Fonteinas" on the island of Santa Antao. The highlight of our 6 hour trek that day. (©MRandin)

Throughout everything that happened those two weeks, my husband kept cool, answering my angry ramblings with a phrase I came to detest by the end of the holiday, “Just think of the stories you’ll have to tell!”

“I’d have a story to tell, if only this damn plane would get off the ground”, I think.  My arm’s beginning to hurt trying to hold the video camera still and the battery life is dangerously close to zero. How long are these checks going to take?

I flip the ‘off’ switch once again and am suddenly conscious of the butterflies fluttering around in my tummy. You’d think I’d be used to this craziness by now. After all this is the man, who feeling the need for mustard one beautiful Saturday morning, decided to drive us 3 hours, from our home in Switzerland to the French town of Dijon, to get some. This is also the man who, 72 hours after a short joy ride in a small airplane, signed up for classes to train to be a pilot. He barrelled through the coursework in 6 months, hitting the books every night after work so that he could take to the air with all his exams behind him.

The plane starts to move and I fumble with the ‘on’ button. The camera flickers to life and I see my husband move past on the small screen, listening intently to his instructor. And then as they reach the start of the runway, the plane slows to a stop and the motor of the plane changes from a deafening whirr to a steady hum. It looks like he needs to receive a few more instructions before take off.

Unfortunately, this gives me enough time to study the plane. Jesus – it’s just a tiny capsule with wings. Why did I say yes to him starting flying lessons? In a while it will be me in the passenger seat. There isn’t even a toilet on board. What if I need to wee, mid-air?

These are the kinds of details that never bother Michel. He can sleep and wee in the worst possible places, a useful skill he picked up when doing his mandatory service in the Swiss army. I only used the squatter toilets in India and South Korea because he stood outside the door and wouldn’t let me leave until I did the business. His usual reproach, “You’re such a city girl”, is always on the tip of his tongue.  

I asked him for his definition of “city girl travel” once. He said, “Your idea of a holiday is getting on a tour bus at 7:00am to visits museums and other boring stuff. You eat on the go and go back to your hotel room tired, having never experienced the country. You stay in comfortable hotels with all the conveniences of home.”

I thought he’d stop there, but he continued, “And do you know how to relax? Do you know what it’s like to flop out on a beach just for the pleasure of soaking in some sun?” To which I replied, “Indian people don’t do beaches. We’ve already got a bloody tan, if you haven’t noticed.”

I did, however, see his point after our vacation in the Maldives. After doing nothing but eat, sleep and read cheap paperbacks, we’d finish off the day on the beach, with a cocktail in hand, watching the sun set. I came back to Switzerland a new woman.

Learning to kick back... (©MRandin)

...and enjoy the view in the Maldives (©MRandin)

Now that I think back on it, it was when watching the Maldivian air taxis bring in tourists for the week that Michel first told me about his desire to fly. And now he seems to be well on his way to making that dream a reality.

Little did I know what this would lead to... (©MRandin)

Though getting the plane off the ground would be a step in the right direction, right about now.

The engine suddenly whirs back to life and I see Michel sit up straight in his seat. I quickly flick on the camera to see that that battery had now dwindled down to 2% of its capacity. “Common. Get a move on,” I mutter to myself.

I try to imagine what he must be feeling as the plane starts moving down the run way and picks up speed. A part of me is envious that I’m not there to share the magic with him. As I watch the wheels leave the ground, I let out a little whoop and begin to whistle Sinatra’s “Come fly with me” as the battery graciously decides to call it a day. And as I look at the tiny speck in the sky, I can only imagine the story he will have to tell me when he touches down!

The budding pilot... (©MRandin)

... and the plane (©MRandin)

There‘s a science and an art and to making cheese. And it’s precisely this combination of precision and love that makes cheese the perfect food for the Swiss to produce. And it’s not just the variety of cheese that is mind boggling. The Swiss have found a number of ways to melt, combine, fry, cook and enjoy cheese.

So how do I love my cheese? Let me count the ways…

Fondue

First up is a Swiss institution – the cheese fondue – which is made by melting one type of grated cheese or a mixture of different cheeses, with white wine, kirsch (cherry brandy), corn flour and lots of crushed garlic. All the ingredients are gently brought together in a “caquelon”, a heavy earthenware pot, until the cheese attains a creamy texture.

Guests then spear their morsels of crusty bread on a fork and dip it into this communal pot of cheese. Some like to substitute bread with a potato so don’t be surprised if you see this on offer at restaurants in Switzerland.

A fondue starts off life as shredded cheese in a packet... (©MRandin)

And ends up like this! (Photo Credit: Tori Nethery)

It’s also possible to combine a classic cheese fondue with tomato, chilli and mushrooms among other ingredients.

Raclette

(©MRandin)

Traditionally, a raclette is prepared in the following way:

1) Take half a wheel of cheese;

2) Place it face up on this contraption, which melts the top layer;

3) Scrape (or ‘racler’) the cheese onto a plate, with boiled potatoes.

Raclette is usually eaten with a variety of pickled onions, corn, gherkins and mushrooms. In restaurants or at larger dinner parties you have to wait your turn for the cheese to make an appearance on your plate. That being said, as with all meals in Switzerland, everything is usually washed down with liberal amounts of wine, which makes it easier to play the waiting game!

Vacherin

One way to enjoy this cheese is to stuff pods of garlic into the mass, pour wine over the top and then bake it for around 45 minutes. When done, scoop out the cheese with a spoon and place it over your potato. This is quite a comforting dish for dinner, particularly on a cold winter’s night.

(©MRandin)

Beignet au fromage

The “Beignet au fromage” are fried slices of cheese, rolled in a batter and then fried in oil. The Beignet au fromage is usually done in little mountain top restaurants during the summer time and is served with a garden salad on the side to help cut the heaviness of the cheese in your stomach.

Malakoff

The inhabitants of Luins and Vinzel, who can be found on the stretch of the Swiss Riviera between Geneva and Lausanne, are proud of their Malakoff making abilities – and rightly so.  The mixture of cheese, wine, flour, eggs and milk is easy enough to prepare. However, it’s forming handfuls of this mixture into a perfect ball shape, sealing it to a slice of bread and then frying it upside down in a deep fryer that requires some skill and practice.

(©MRandin)

For the love of cheese

Simplicity at its very best is cheese with bread or cheese on potatoes. But it’s in having a raclette or fondue that you learn a lot about the Swiss.

The Swiss will themselves admit to their lack of expansiveness and reticence to welcome newcomers.  But some of the best times I have spent here have been huddling around a pot full of melted cheese in a little alpine chalet with acquaintances who have now become good friends. It’s over pots of fondue that often the ice is broken and friendships are made. Only once, in the seven years I’ve lived here, have I seen a fondue ordered for one. The emphasis is always on conviviality.

Then there’s the ritual of preparing the fondue, which is primarily a man’s domain in a country where the kitchen is traditionally reserved for the fairer sex. The men take this task very seriously and all efforts are made to ensure that the fondue is perfect for the evening.  And what is the secret for getting a perfect, creamy cheese fondue? Well, if they tell you, they may have to kill you. If you do decide to probe, you’ll find that there are as many ways to stir a fondue as there are to put one together.

Couple time in Switzerland is a highly valued commodity. And to celebrate this someone created a “candle light raclette oven” for two. Not only is it an ingenious take on preparing a dish that usually requires a fair amount of equipment, but it makes for an interesting picnic after a long walk in the mountains during the winter!

(©MRandin)

Tips for the uninitiated

1) Beware of waiters in restaurants offering you a cold beverage with your fondue. Stand your ground and ask for wine (usually white) or a hot tea, which will stop the cheese from congealing into a ball in your stomach. Trust me this isn’t a pleasant feeling.

2) There are also some cheese fondue blunders to avoid. If you haven’t secured your bit of bread onto your fork well enough and it consequently gets lost in the communal pot of melted cheese, the next round of drinks is on you. And if you’re female, expect all the men at your table to ask for a kiss. And whatever happens, lily-dipping will not be tolerated!

3) The end of a fondue brings as much pleasure as the fondue itself. The “religieuse” – the cheese from the bottom of the pot – is always sought after and in some parts of Switzerland it is common practice to break an egg into the caquelon just before the end. Try them both once – you won’t be disappointed.

4) When you visit Switzerland drop the diet. Cheese may be unmerciful to the waistline but it does wonders for the soul!

Should I be writing about La Tine de Conflens? I think I may be about to let the best guarded secret in the canton of Vaud out of the bag. But it was such a pleasant find that I think it would be a crime to keep it to myself.

(©MRandin)

I don’t think I’m exaggerating about this being a secret. It isn’t a well advertised walking trail and so far I’ve only seen a thumbnail image of the waterfalls on one tourist brochure. M. and I would have probably never known about if not for the coffee table book at a local fair.

I remember that the photos looked heavily edited and seemed too ‘tropical’ to be Switzerland. So the young lad, managing the stall, looked somewhat puzzled when I asked him a second time for the exact location. “It’s in Switzerland” he repeated slowly “and not too far from here” he added.

The websites say that the inhabitants have “jealously guarded” this small slice of paradise. It seems Mother Nature does her part well to help their cause. The trail leading to the falls is pretty, but unassuming, and aside from the small yellow sign pointing us towards the Tine de Conflens, there was no other indication of its existence.

The waterfall – the ‘Tine’ – is situated at the confluence of the rivers Venoge and Veyron.  I’ve read that the place takes on a mystical air during the winter. (We did try to head over to the waterfalls that winter but the snow made it impossible.) The Swiss poet, Jean Villars Gilles, called the place “Notre petit Colorado” – “Our little Colorado”. Having never been to Colorado I cannot comment and will take his word for it.

It’s a good feeling finding somewhere so exquisite only an hour away from where you live. But as we walked back to the car I couldn’t help but wonder in our quest to travel to more ‘exotic’, far-flung destinations how much we miss in our own backyards.

(©MRandin)

(©MRandin)

Getting there :

• Take the train to La Sarraz. The Tine de Conflens is a 40 minute walk from the station.

• Take the train to La Sarraz and then the bus to Ferreyres, La Tine and then walk 20 minutes to the Tine de Conflens.

Happy New Year everyone! (©MRandin)

If you are one of the 21 people who regularly visited Chickstravelflicks in 2010 (a big “thank you” by the way for your support!) you may have noticed that my posts dried up towards the end of the year. This, I must stress, was not for lack of material, but time. It’s hard to keep blogging especially when you have a full time job.

My intentions were to post well-constructed, timely, humorous and informative posts (three of them a week I might add…) in addition to uploading beautifully edited videos and photos.  I was told by many writers that I was “biting off more than I could chew”. I do regret pooh-poohing these remarks and other “blogging fatigue” warnings from experienced bloggers.

I am embarrassed to admit that I had also secretly hoped to become an overnight success in the travel blogosphere and that I would be paid handsomely to write about my scintillating travels with M… I’ve been told I should relax more. Maybe I should.

So as we start the New Year, I thought I’d take a bit a time to think about what I learned from Chickstravelflicks in 2010.

• Blogs, like Rome, cannot be built in a day. Any attempt to rush this process will frustrate you immensely. They need to be nurtured and lovingly developed. Conversely, blogging teaches you never to rest on your laurels. You need to be in a constant innovation mode if you’re going to stay ahead of the game.

• Cyber socialising can be hard work. The more you get pulled into the blogosphere the more you realise that the whole experience is more than just writing, taking photos or videos and posting on time. You become part of a community. And the community gives to you as much as you give to them. A nice comment on your blog from someone half way around the world can perk up your day as much as a nasty one (and I did receive a few of those, unfortunately…) can bring you down.

• If you can’t change your views, you can’t change anything. I have always prided myself on sticking to my convictions. But I have found myself constantly revising my views and opinions as I’ve posted through 2010. I think this realisation started with what I call the “Bucket list” post in February 2010. I no longer believe that it’s necessary to see the world before the age of 30. (Anyway I’m 32 now…). There is merit to accepting your limitations and working at what you love at a leisurely pace. And there was the I-Phone 4 post, which I maintained would not revolutionise my way of writing or blogging. In actual fact – it has. My daily train rides are now being used to jot down ideas on the I-Phone and yes, occasionally write a full post. I also find that I take a lot of pictures with my phone, which I should start using!

In light of all of this, my aims for this blog in 2011 are as follows:

1. Blog for pleasure rather than under pressure!
2. Write only one well-constructed, timely, humourous and informative post a week.
3. Find balance in my blogging life – socialise more.
4. Read more travel literature.
5. Use my I-Phone more for blogging purposes.

Let’s see how this year goes. Happy New Year everyone! I hope it is filled with happiness, love, prosperity and plenty of travel for you!