Hot Air...Balloons

We just returned from Chateau d'Oex which is a small village in the Swiss Alps, just north of Montreux. You may have heard of it because it is the hot air balloon capital of the world. I am not altogether sure how many competitors had to be elbowed out of the running to earn such a venerable title, but regardless, such a claim does sound rather unique and impressive, doesn't it?

And those two words exactly encapsulate this tiny town. In fact, my husband announced, several times, that it was his "favorite place in the world." This proclamation might sound dramatic, so I feel it is important to note that my husband is prone to neither exaggeration nor theatrics (a good thing because an overactive imagination like mine needs a yin to complement my yang).

He loved this place because it was hard not to love it. Nestled in the Swiss Alps, it is a sort of faux skiing village. I say "faux" because there is no direct access to skiiing trails (unless you count the toddler ski school whose attendants spent the morning making their way up an almost flat spanse of land on a very short T-bar, and who seemed to be adorably under the misguided impression that they were conquering the Matterhorn). Fabulous ski trails are a short bus/car ride away, but that small distance means that the town is not overrun by the snooty skiers that make most gorgeous mountain towns borderline intolerable. Yes, Colorado, I am talking to you.

Also adding to Chateau d'Oex's charm: there are no chain stores of any kind, and with the exception of a small cache of "Nestle" products at the general stores and an oddly prominent Subaru banner at a local car wash, there was no sign of commercial industry whatsoever. Who knew that a McDonald's-free zone even existed in this day and age?

I had the feeling that everyone residing in the town hand-crafted their own furniture, churned their own butter, and contacted one another through a centuries-old smoke signal system. Simply being there, I felt compelled to get in touch with my inner country farmer, or inner quaker, or inner something that is the antithesis of urban-dweller. I half-wanted to move to the alps and start my own cheese farm.

The town consisted of a rather active bowling alley (you might be interested to note that I am a rather competent bowler--I averaged about 130 a game and had one particularly impressive round where I scored a 155), which was part of this "entertainment" complex that also boasted a pool table and small arcade as well. That sounds slightly cheesy and also a potentially ripe opportunity for delinquent teenage loiterers, but both times we went the clientele consisted of families, couples, and small groups of adult friends. Not an errant teenager to be found. I don't know about you, but I darn well like such a quality in a town where I may or may not ever pursue a life as a goat cheese farmer.

There is also an outdoor skating rink, and when my husband saw the "Men's Hockey Club" sign he almost danced with glee. You may remember that this is a guy who is averse to dancing, so you can imagine the magnitude of his elation. He pictured himself lacing up the old skates and having a sunset match beneath the surrounding alpine mountains, and I think a better image was never conjured for the former hockey player. The village also has a tiny cinema, several restaurant and pubs full of very friendly locals, and a library that has books in several different languages. As if that were not enough, dogs are everywhere, and allowed anywhere. In case my verbal love affair with Chateau d'Oex is not well understood: it was pretty perfect.

So it was a huge bummer when my husband woke up on our final morning in Chateau d'Oex, and had a raging stomach flu. Aside from feeling badly about his condition and the fact that he missed the amazing train ride down through the alps to Lake Geneva in Montreux, which was seriously one of the most impressive vistas I will ever see in this lifetime, it also had me thinking.

And here is what I thought: What is the significance to him tossing his cookies here and now?

You don't become an adept over-analyzer by letting things like this go, people. But let me rewind a bit: I think I may have permanantly scared off a friend of mine today. She mentioned that she had a cold, and I responded that I believed that all physical ailments are manifestations of unresolved emotional or mental turmoil. When I offered this unsolicited opinion, I was thinkng of her, of course, but I was also thinking of my husband.

I mean he had been looking forward to this trip for months, and the train ride is always his favorite part of any adventure on which we embark. All train rides are great, but this one was singularly spectacular. And he missed the entire return trip. So what is that about, I wondered.

And here is what I think: my husband is a guy who is at home in the country. He loves land, he loves mountains, he loves space, and he loves feeling comfortable. We go to a place where there is gorgeous scenery, wide open expanses of land, and everyone says hello and goodbye and thank you and does not care if you are speaking French, English, Russian, or Pig Latin. It was a place he felt utterly comfortable.

And then we are faced with returning to Paris. A place I love, but a place that is more of a challenge for him. It is a bustling city, it is noisy, it is often unfriendly, and no one really welcomes English speaking (though they tolerate it quite well at times). So of course he would become sick. His body was finally releasing all the toxic urban nonsense that he has been force-feeding it for months. Being away from the hustle and bustle resulted in him needing to purge it all from his body. Makes some sense, doesn't it? With this "diagnosis" in mind, all I can think about is what a trooper he is.

Or else I am just being outlandish (me?) and trying to find significance in everything just because that is what I like to do in order to make sense of this crazy, wild world.

Because maybe he simply ate a bad batch of pot-au-feu.

Either way, Chateau d'Oex is awesome, and that is all I really wanted to say here.