Last day in Switzerland

11 July
While looking forward to our two days in Rome, I was at the same time sad to think that today we would have to farewell the group of friends who had shared our 15 days on the "Share the Heritage" tour. We departed from Burtigny and set off for Geneva, an hour's drive around the lake. Today our tour guide was Tom Bloomer, one of the leaders at the YWAM base in Burtigny. He took us on a two hour walking tour of Geneva, along with another 12 or so people who joined our group. The previous day Geneva had held a huge celebration of the 500th anniversary of the birth of the Reformer John Calvin, so in our tour today there was an emphasis on his influence. The cathedral is one of the places where he preached. I've included a photo of the pulpit, as I was interested to learn that the very ornate canopy actually helps the preacher's voice to project more effectively to the congregation.
Another person we learned about was Henri Dunant, a Swiss businessman and social activist, whose experiences in the nineteenth century lead to the founding of the International Red Cross organisation, and the writing of the Geneva Convention.
The afternoon ended up in a park where we saw a sculpture that had been commissioned for the Calvin celebrations. As you can see in the photo, it consists of a circle of ten fingers, representing the Ten Commandments. The sculptor had accompanied us on the walking tour and now told us about his work. I was interested to learn that he was also commissioned to do a sculpture for the North Shore hospital in Auckland, and it was unveiled by Helen Clark last year.
After an emotional farewell to our tour buddies, Gordon and I were driven to the airport, and it wasn't long before we were winging our way to Rome via the magnificent Alps, of which we got an amazing view.
Now here we are back home in little ole NZ, and we've almost recovered from jet lag. It has been a wonderful 5 weeks (just under, actually), and on the tour alone, we covered 3,500 kilometres by vehicle across Europe, not to mention the 2-4 hours a day walking around places of significance. It's going to take a while to process all that we have seen, learned and experienced, but I feel so much the richer for this wonderful time we've been privileged to enjoy.

Switzerland July 10

July 10 was a very full day, not just in terms of the kilometres travelled, but also a treat for the soul, with wonderful scenery and amazing vistas from mountain tops, as well as more places to visit and information to absorb.
Our first stop was St Maurice-en-Valais, a town named after a soldier from the 4th century in the service of the Emperor Maximian whose legion, entirely composed of Christians from Egypt, refused to obey his order to harass some local Christians. Maximian ordered every tenth soldier killed, but this did not change the soldire's minds, so a second decimation followed. Eventually, all 6,666 soldiers were executed. We visited first the monastery, and then the memorial chapel dedicated to St Maurice and the soldiers who laid down their lives. (See the photo of the painting over the altar in the chapel.)
Next we drove to Lake Geneva and then up some very narrow winding streets to a town named Caux, the birthplace of the EU, mostly thanks to Robert Schuman, who had a vision to rebuild Europe on godly foundations. There is a photo of the hotel which became a conference centre, whcih is where the first meetings about the EU took place; and also a phtot attempting to capture the incredible view from the hotel - it really doesn't do justice to what we actually saw. We treated ourselves to a coffee on a patio overlooking the hotel and the lake below - what a wonderful setting.
An hour or so later we were in Lausanne where we visited the cathedral where the reformers had defaced the statues of Mary (commonplace during and after the Reformation in cathedrals across Europe), and which was the only church where dead babies were baptised. While we were there we got to hear an orchestra practising - another lovely treat.
We didn't linger long at Lausanne as we were expected for dinner at the YWAM base in a little town further around the lake in Burtigny. This was the first of the YWAM places we visited to actually be full of young people, but we didn't see much of them as we were tucked away in a guest wing.

Switzerland Update

17 July
Well, we're back home now, and still feeling the effects of jet-lag, after 37 hours of flying and waiting in airports!
But I promised I would fill on the gaps regarding Swizterland, so let's pick up from Thursday 9 July, where we were staying in the YWAM base on the hillside above one of Switzerland's beautiful lakes. We enjoyed a little bit of a sleep-in and a later breakfast before spending the morning first having a tour of the outside of the 'castle' and then a time of teaching and discussion. It was nice not to jump straight in the vehicles as we usually did most mornings. In the afternoon we were given a choice of having free time or going around the lake, walking up to some caves and then coming back across the lake on a paddle steamer. I probably should have chosen to rest, but I wanted to make the most of seeing and experiencing as much as I could of the area, so I chose the latter option. As you can see from the picture where I'm wearing a jumper, the weather was actually quite cold - I think someone said it was around 13 degrees! The caves were set high up on a hill, with a very steep climb - great exercise - and enclosed in a Swiss-style building, with a waterfall beneath - very picturesque. The caves are named after a guy called Beatus, and I'll quote here from a website: "Beatus himself reputedly came from Britain. The story goes that having given all his wealth to the poor to follow Christ, he was baptized in Rome by St Peter and sent with a companion, Justus, into the Alps as the first apostle to the heathen Helvetians. (In all probability, though, Beatus was one of the Irish followers of St Columba who brought Christianity to Switzerland in the sixth century.) When Beatus and Justus came to the lake, local people told them of a terrible dragon who occupied a cave overlooking the water. Beatus climbed up to the cave alone, and when the dragon emerged, raised his cross and spoke the name of the Holy Trinity, thereby sending the monster over the cliff edge into the water below. Beatus took over its cave, praying and working miracles until his death at the age of 90. A cult of pilgrimage rapidly grew up around him and the cave, which, after being walled up during the Reformation, was restored for public visits in the nineteenth century."
At night we watched a movie on the beginning of the Annabaptist movement, and especially focusing on Michael Sattler, the first of the Annabaptists to be matyred.
The last picture shows us eating breakfast out on the verandah, where we ate most our meals at the castle.

Switzerland

14 July
Here we are at Heathrow airport on our way home, and I'm enjoying the cool air-conditioned environment, and giving my feet a rest. Apparently the temperature in Rome yesterday was 33 degrees, and it was supposed to be even hotter today - looks like we left just at the right time!
Our B&B hostess Francesca graciously drove us to the airport this morning at 5:15am - at a price, of course - but we were grateful, as we'd been unable to organise a taxi and had been spending a lot of time and money on mobile calls without success. Francesca even drove us to a couple of lookout points above Rome so we could enjoy the view just before sunrise. She's obviously very proud of her adopted city.
Well, I promised to fill in the gaps about Switzerland, which now seems a distant memory, so I'll have to rely on some sketchy notes.
We left Schloss Hurlach in East Germany in the morning of Wednesday, 8 July and stopped off briefly by a lake in Austria for morning tea - see first photo. However, it was a flying visit, and soon we were in Switzerland, land of mountains and beautiful rural scenes with peacefully grazing cows (yes, they do wear cowbells!). Our first stop was a town called St Gallen, where we donned special felt slippers while browsing in a most beautifully ornate monastery library, filled with a huge collection of ancient books. We weren't allowed to photograph the library, but there is a photo of the Rococo style church we went to next - isnt it gorgeous?
Have just been informed that I'm running out of battery, so will have to stop now.
See you all soon.

Last evening of Ro(a)ming

13 July
It's now 8:30 pm in this lovely city and we've just had a very nice meal after climbing over 520 steps to the top of St Peter's Basilica. At times the climb was quite claustrophobic as the winding stairs were very narrow - in fact, the last 20 steps or so had a rope to grab onto in the middle of the tightly spiralled staircase! The view from the top was of course spectacular, though I made sure I didn't go too close to the edge. We attended the 5pm service again, this time being treated to some lovely singing in English from a girls' choir.
I remembered that I was supposed to say something about being a pedestrian in Rome. I believe that walking around Rome could be classified as an extreme sport, as there is such great risk involved when crossing the road, you really take your life into your hands each time you step off the footpath. Pedestrian crossings (usually in very faded patchy markings) are an indication only to pedestrians that you may have a go at this risky business of crossing the road at this very spot only if you fully realise that whatever may happen to you in the next few seconds will be entirely your own fault. Approaching motorists are quite within their rights to take potshots at you (perhaps the motorists' version of ten pin bowling with the fun of moving targets! They will frequently swerve in front of or behind you as you walk across those faint stripes (which you falsely believe to be your passport to safety), but you, as a pedestrian, must maintain a fixed gaze on the footpath opposite and do not allow your quaking knees to be at all visible to the driver - he who hesitates WILL be lost - and stride across confidently, all the while praying fervently that this is not your final breath! It is truly an act of faith. Having a green pedestrian light at an intersection really holds very little value as far as the Roman motorist is concerned - I was even tooted at by a scooter as I crossed at such a time. Of course, I had to pretend that I didn't care one little bit and kept right on walking as if nothing had happened. When in Rome ...
Shortly after this, my peace was again disturbed as a scooter came up behind me on the footpath, the driver (dressed in an immaculate suit) apparently looking for a place to park. A pedestrian must never fall into the trap of becoming complacent, no matter where his location.
I'm aware that I've left huge gaps in our travels between Germany and Italy, so will try to update as we stop over in London and Los Angeles on our way home.
Photos above: the top three are creative parking that my possible not be acceptable in NZ, two slightly distracted buskers, Gordon near the top of the Basilica, two views of bella Roma from the very top of St Peter's, the inside of the dome, and the view of St Peter's from our balcony. (Sorry if the order of these photos is slightly askew.)

Last day of Ro(a)ming

13 July
As I'm so far behind with this blog, I'll start with Rome and go backwards.
How can I find words to describe this amazing city? Elegant, historic, sometimes imposing and intimidating, bustling and full of life - well into the night, beautiful, creative, scary for pedestrians (more on that later) and extremely hot and humid.
Our journey to Rome on Saturday night (11th) began with a delayed flight from Geneva, leaving 1 3/4 hours later than scheduled. Upon landing, there was a further 20 minutes' delay as the passengers waited for the bus to drive them to the terminal. That was another interesting experience, as only a select few got to sit down, while the rest (including Gordon and me) had to hang onto poles while standing. Having filed our way through the passport check, we then had to guess where to get our luggage, as our flight was not listed on the board. The helpful lady at the info desk gave us directions, so off we went. After ten minutes of wandering around we asked someone where to go and she told us we were in the wrong place, so back we went to the terminal where we'd started off, and the security guards informed us that we needed to go to the terminal the first lady had sent us to. I should have mentioned that the bed and breakfast place we were to stay in had ordered a taxi to meet us, and was supposed to be in an obvious place holding up a sign with our names on it. We were hoping he'd discovered out flight had run late. Meanwhile, the search for the luggage continued, and we'd hadn't come across anyone who looked like our taxi driver. The airport was looking pretty empty by this stage, but eventually we made our way to an office out the back which looked like a place for lost luggage, and there they were - yay! By this time, I was so tired I felt like crying with relief. I think I could easily come up with a few helpful suggestions to the airport authorities on how to direct passengers to their luggage!
We trundled our four bags out to the entrance, where we came across a man holding up a sgin with our name on it, and when he saw us, he pointed meaningfully at his watch, then told us how he'd been waiting for two hours for us! It's just as well I didn't have the Italian to tell him what he could do with his complaints!
Sixty Euros and 45 minutes later, we were deposited at the corner of our street - the driver simply left his taxi parked diagonally across a corner and then proceeded to drag the two largest bags up the street, while we followed behind. I was so thankful that we had a taxi driver to show us the way, as there is no way we would have been able to find the street number on our own! We were looking for number 22, and the numbers at first seemd to progress logically to 20, then there was a church, after which all logic flew out the window. From memory, it went something like: 26, 23, 21, 22! I was beginning to sense that our stay in Rome might just contain a few challenges! Our lovely hostess Francesca was waiting out in the street for us and gave us such a nice warm welcome (we had phoned her from the airport to let her know we were running late) that we were instantly put at ease. We tumbled into bed just before midnight and slept really soundly in our spacious room just down from the Vatican City.
Sunday morning started with a breakfast of juice, muesli, muffins and cappucinos at 8am, served on the fifth floor balcony just off our room, and from which we have a great view of St Peter's Basilica dome. It was a nice change to feel we were able to go where we wanted when we wanted, though I have to admit I enjoyed not having any responsibility for the activities or the transport on the tour. Francesca gave us lots of helpful advice over breakfast, so we ammended our original plans and ditched the idea of going to the huge market in the southern part of the city. Instead, we boarded a "Hop on, hop off" bus, and headed off for the Colosseum and Palantine Hill. A glance at the queues put us off, so we walked around the outside of both and enjoyed a delicious gelato from one of the many stands. I was very grateful for my umbrella, and noticed there were lots of hawkers with parasols - 5 Euros each (that's about $12.50!. I think you can get the same thing at the $2 shops in NZ. Actually, we've decided it's not worth converting everything to NZ currency, as it stops you enjoying the Rome experience. You just have to accept that it's an expensive city and pay what you have to for whatever you need.
After a few hours of wandering around in the heat, we hopped back on a bus and returned to our B&B for a midday snooze. It's great to be in such a handy location.
Later in the afternoon there was a visit to St Peter's where we queued for about 20 minutes and got in just before the prayer service at 5 pm. Everything about St Peter's is jaw-droppingly magnificent, and we loved having the luxury of sitting down and lingering for as long as we wanted while we listened to the haunting chants echo around us.
Next came a wander around the outside of Castello San Angelo, where we came across rows of stalls selling anything from food to the usual touristy stuff to jewellery, and even a tent where people were playing on foosball tables. When our feet waid they'd had enough, we jumped back on a bus and just loved the feeling of being out in the cooler evening air on the top deck. So we got to see a lot of what we'd seen earlier, but it looked different now in the softer evening light. We alighted at Piazza Navona - a lovely rectangular 'square', with it three fountains, open air performers and many artists, some of whom were busy scetching live portraits - fascinating to watch. Dinner was a salad at one of the many restaurants, giving us the strength to continue to the Pantheon and finally the Trevi Fountain, where we didn't stay for long, as we were being pestered by guys trying to sell roses or take instant photos. We managed to find our way to the right bus stop, but by this time the 'hop on, hop off' bus had ceased to operate, so we had to wait more than 30 minutes (11.30pm!) for our no. 62 bus to arrive. It was still 25 degrees and by this time our feet were really complaining. What a relief it was to finally sit down, and be on our way 'home' again.
Gordon got up early this morning and went off alone to the Sistine Chapel, as I hadn't slept well, and I've got a couple of blisters from yesterday. Apparently the Chapel is a 'must see', so if the queues shorten a little this evening, I might feel I can face a bit more walking.
Anyway, as I said earlier, I'm going backwards, so let's head back to Switzerland, where we spent two days at a 'castle' (more like a big house) on the side of a lake in Einigen - the German-speaking side of the country - and then a day about 20 minutes from Geneva. Switzerland is just over the top gorgeous - everything you see in pictures of the country and more. Some of the roads winding up and down the mountains are a little bit scary, being very narrow with many hairpin bends and steep drops over the side. I was very glad not to be driving. I was amazed at the number of vineyards on the hill and mountainsides, and even more surprised that Switzerland doesn't export any of its superb wines.
Germany is between Holland and Switzerland in terms of both location and scenery, so the parts we saw had gentle rolling hills and lots of cute villages nestled into the hillsides. The quality of the roads is really good, as is the signage, but there were also a lot of road works, as the Germans obviously want to keep their roads in tip top condition.