Week 8
I wrapped up my comparative research on truth commissions and took on a new project, this one focusing on Democratic Republic of the Congo. Since I’m still learning about DRC’s history and GSF’s work in the country, I’ll provide more details both next week. I’d prefer to the discuss the topic when I’m better informed.
In the meantime, I’ll provide an account of my travels. This weekend, fellow intern Aurora and some friends came to visit me here in Switzerland. We were lucky to enjoy some extraordinary cities.
All summer, I’ve stayed on the western end of Lake Geneva. We decided to explore the eastern end, with stops in Lausanne and Montreux.
The ride from Geneva across Vaud, the neighboring canton, was itself an experience. When we looked out one side of the train, we had stunning views of Lake Geneva’s southern shore and the Alps stretching beyond—a glittering expanse crowned with craggy indigo shadows. From the other side of the train, we glimpsed the terraced vineyards of Lavaux. A wine-producing region since at least the Middle Ages, Lavaux was designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2007 and continues to dazzle people like me with its bucolic elegance.
For the sake of space, I’ll fast-forward to Montreux. Located at the far eastern end of Lake Geneva, Montreux spills down the mountainside and right onto the lakefront. Over the last century, Montreux has hosted an interesting cast of creatives: Vladimir Nabokov lived there for the last 16 years of his life; Deep Purple’s Smoke on the Water, which was written and recorded in Montreux, recounts actual events surrounding a fire that broke out while Frank Zappa performed at the Montreux Casino in 1971; and Queen recorded six albums there, with Freddie Mercury becoming particularly attached to the city.
I can see why folks would want to hang out in Montreux, especially today. It’s peaceful. It’s artsy. It boasts an impressive view of the Alps, perhaps the best I’ve yet found from the shore of Lake Geneva. A 45-minute walk down the lakefront brings you face-to-face with the Château de Chillon, a fantastically preserved island castle dating to the 11th century. In the summer, the city hosts a renowned jazz festival. For its size, Montreux has a lot to offer.
The next day, we rose early to catch a bus to Chamonix, an alpine haven for the adventurous and outdoorsy types. Especially popular for skiing, Chamonix sits at the base of Mont Blanc. It’s the highest municipality in France and, depending on whom you ask, Europe.
My friends and I took a cable car to the summit of Aiguille du Midi, a dizzying 3,842m above sea level. We were a little jelly-legged from the altitude, but our journey did not stop there. We transferred to another cable car that took us 5km across the Géant Glacier to Pointe Helbronner, Italy. Dangling so high above icefalls and crevasses that mountaineers below looked like specks, I suddenly had a healthy awareness of my own mortality. Not just because I realized that a snapped cable could send me tumbling into oblivion, but also because the mountains seemed to dwarf life itself, both physically and temporally.
This weekend provided everything I hope for in travel: awe-inspiring nature, cultural and historical intrigue, opportunities for deeper musings. I couldn’t ask for more.