Lift Up Your Hearts!

Janet's version is here.

Today we made the most of both our tram passes and our Basel Cards, the latter providing us free admission to most of the museums (Janet used her Swiss Museum Pass) and various other discounts.  We began with the Kunstmuseum, which has a collection of art that is quite impressive, at least for people who have not been to the Louvre in 40 years or so.  In many ways I actually liked this better than the Louvre, because it is limited enough in scope that we felt we could devote as much time as we wanted to particular pictures.  You can take your own tour here.

Next, a walk along the Rhine to a very old, but still working, paper mill.  On the way we stopped by part of the old city wall.

The Swiss Paper Museum was particularly fun because Porter's dad was in the papermakers' felt business for most of his life.  The machinery in this living history museum is driven by a working water wheel, which you can see below, and which must be replaced every 25 years.  Visit the museum virtually and see, floor by floor what it's all about.

We then enjoyed a ride on one of several ferries across the Rhine.  They are powered solely by the flow of the current as they move along a wire stretched from bank to bank.

What better after a leisurely walk along the beautiful Rhine than a coffee/tea/hot chocolate break at one of the many cafés with a great view of the river and the people passing by.

After fortifying ourselves with a Basel specialty bread that looks and tastes somewhat like a very large, soft pretzel, we hopped a bus to the Tinguely Museum.  I told you Jean Tinguely would return to our story.

I'm not a fan of modern art.  I find it generally weird and frequently depressing.  But Tinguely is intriguing enough to be interesting.  His sculptures invite viewer participation, and the way he uses odd, discarded objects and scrap metal is fascinating.  One of his works, made as a kind of memorial "altar piece" from items recovered from a tragic fire, made me think of my own "Morbid Mobile," which I made as a project for physics class, out of pieces from a plane that had crashed in the Adirondack Mountains.  It wasn't until quite some time after the crash that my father and I were hiking on that mountain, but we found a few pieces that I took home with me.  What inspired me to make them into a mobile several years later, I have no idea.  But I'm sorry I let my physics teacher talk me into giving it to him.  Otherwise, I'd now have my own Tinguely-esque sculpture. 

One non-Tinguely exhibit at the museum featured the student uprising of May 1968 that began in Paris.    It was surrealistic in more ways than one.  It's bad enough to see the events of one's life become history—but to have them become art!

Baracca Zermatt.  That's were we ate dinner.  If Janet gets into grad school at the Schola and returns to Switzerland for another two or three years, I know that some of my readers are going to find a way to visit her.  If so, Baracca Zermatt is a must.  When in Switzerland, one must experience fondue, and I can't imagine it any better than this.  Only three things could have improved the night:  (1) had the restaurant been non-smoking, (2) had they been willing to serve us tap water instead of expensive bottles of spring water, and (3) had it been cold and snowy outside—the wood stove in the center of the lodge-like dining room gave out a glorious heat, an effect that was quite wasted on such a warm, spring day.  The Baracca Zermatt had just opened, and was recommended by one of Janet's teachers.  Until the guidebooks discover it, you won't find it unless you know where it is, or else happen to be wandering around near the zoo.  One other indication that it's not primarily designed for tourists is that our waiter was uncomfortable with English—we were glad in more than one way to have Janet with us!

We each ordered the Kleines Matterhorn.  Don't be deceived by the adjective kleines.  There was nothing small about this meal.  The first picture shows you what we ate, at least if you read German; the second is the appetizer portion (a meal in itself) and the third, the fondue itself.  Yes, we polished off that huge bowl of cheese!  It was fabulous.  It was so, so good.  When the waiter brought the fondue, he also brought each of us a small glass of clear liquid, as you can see in the third picture.  Janet inquired, "Wasser?" to which he replied, "Nein, Kirsch."  Firewasser.  Even though Porter looks in the picture as if he has already consumed some of it, none of us tried more than a taste, it was that powerful.  I know kirsch is often used in fondues, in fact I include it when I make fondue at home and like the addition.  We considered adding some to the cheese mixture, but it was so delicious as it was, we couldn’t bring ourselves to make any changes.

 

After such a meal, all that remained was to travel home and fall into bed.  Almost.  We had to do a wash, and Janet, bless her, volunteered to stay up until it was finished to hang it on the line.  Europeans seem almost as unwilling as the Japanese to use clothes dryers.  And what it is about their washers that takes so long to clean clothes, I don't know, but our experience with three of them leads us to believe that two hours to complete a load is a normal experience.