For the pedants, I am aware that this song refers to the Rocky Mountains in the US and not the snow-capped Alps of Europe, but we are short on song titles that describe the exceptional scenery of the French-Swiss Alps and I was short on time to come up with an alternative. So hum the dulcet tones of Denver and let’s get on with the show.
Evian-les-Bains, as seen from the top floor of the Royal
The Savoy is known for a several things, most of which relate to cheese and ham, so there is nothing at all bad about the Savoy as far as the M can see. Especially when she is getting the royal grand tour from Louis XIV.
Louis, being a king, must have the most palatial residences and the most regal vistas wherever he goes. Not for him the grungy and dingy corners of France. It is only to be expected that he now earns his living in a place originally constructed for the almost king Edward VII* named the Royal Palace, perched on a hill in the lakeside resort for the very very rich that is Evian-les-Bains.
The Royal Hotel
Evian being as it is the best-known bottled water on earth, I expected to get off the train and literally sail into Louis’ gilt apartment. To send so many bottles of water out into the world, even as far as Australia (sacré bleu!), the stuff must surely flow freely in the streets? Well almost.
The Cheap Way...
If there is a way to bureaucratise and legislate something perfectly natural and simple like for example water, the French have usually mastered or invented it. And so it is with the H20 that flows from the Alps high above Evian. The biggest company in France owns the rights to commercialise this water in the now world famous pink bottles with advertising centred on babies that dance on roller skates (???), however the tax-paying residents of the town must be provided with free and ready access to la source all the same, just minus the skates. By my calculation, one is not required to walk to this specific spot in the photo because surely the water that runs from the tap at home is in fact Evian? Therefore I brushed my Colgate teeth with Evian? Evoking the words of J-Lo, I washed my hair with Evian? I flushed the toilet with Evian? How very grand and Marie Antoinette of me!
Those among who are familiar with these pages and are familiar with my absolute lack of coordination and would certainly not expect that I spent two good hours playing golf…sort of. Starting off on the driving range and followed by 30 minutes on the putting green (while Louis played with his Blackberry and that is not a euphemism for anything you dirty minded nasties ‘keep your eyes open’) and I was about ready to take on Aussie Girl Carrie Webb for her LPGA. If only I could get the big long metal thing to hit the little white round thing while maintaining those two jellied hams that descend from my hips straight and perpendicular to the green stuff below.
After all of that drinking water and wine and golf glamouring and general Frenching with Louis, it was time to do something rather more organised and proper... so we got into his golden carriage and went to Switzerland.
The Cailler Chocolate Factory
How one tiny land-locked country could be so world-dominating in so many varied ways simply blows my ‘great big sandy desert island that gave the world every kind of furry or poisonous beast’ mind. Watches, banks, chocolate, cheese, cuckoo clocks, the treaty guaranteeing your human rights as a prisoner of war unless you are an Afghan nabbed by the Yanks, Switzerland as a nation could be renamed as Greatest Hits, those alphorn-ing, purple-cow farmers got the best of everything!
I am genuinely surprised that Louis XIV did not move here instead of the watery poor cousin down the road that is Evian…
After touring a chocolate factory and overcoming my genuine disappointment at not finding Willy, Charlie, Oompa-Loompas or my personal icon Veruca “I want a Pony Daddy” Salt, we headed to M the Cheese Queen’s personal Mecca. Gruyere.
Les Gruyeres as the locals call it.
What can be bad about a small town perched on top of an even smaller hill that gave the world the second best hard cheese after Bega (is there a place called Coon?) But those Swiss and their ingenuity, after inventing cheese, they had the brilliance and foresight to mix it with WINE! Traditional Swiss (that’s right Louis, your lot on the other side of the border did not invent this) Fondue is a combination of the gourmand’s Holy Trinity of wine, cheese and bread. Well slap me silly and send me to St Peter, I’ve just found heaven. But wait, those canny Swiss have taken it a step further and poured this cheesy, winey nectar over grated, fried, potato. OMG! I just died of happiness again…only given the cholesterol content of the plate you really might die if you indulged too frequently. Rösti, a heart attack on a plate and the best antidote to an earlier chocolate binge in the freebie room of the chocolate factory known to woman or man or even a King.
After the food fest, there was only one thing left to do, jump in a steaming mountain-top thermal pool in the middle of an alpine thunderstorm and try to float while transfixed upon the panoramic views of the cow-dotted spiky topped Alps and pray that the steam would eventually wash away the melted winey cheese smell oozing from every pore of my cocoa buttered skin.
Yodel-ey-hi-hoo!
Lac Léman
*Edward VII, the man who gave up being a king for the love of a catholic divorced American with a penchant for Champagne and a spectacle. The olden-day Guy Ritchie if you will.
An amazing new jail...sorry kingdom for Louis XIV.
And during this time...Marie Antoinette is in the middle of the crowd for a pride...place de la bastille!!! Whats a fuck! Time for a new revolution!
Posted by: louis XIV 2.0 | 06/25/2011 at 10:33 PM
Marie était très fier pour son Louis
Posted by: MM | 06/26/2011 at 04:26 PM