Departure

We walked to the bus stop about 20 minutes away while Jacqueline transfered our bagage. Also along were Hugo and Patrick, the blog profits from Patricks pictures of the departing travellers. Thanks to all of you Litzi folk who made sure a well rounded summer voyage found equally well rounded an end. And as when the intrepid Canadians arrived, I have no pictures from Zurich airport when they depart. Airports …well, airports! I should think what you find above between arrival and departure is more the stuff than boarding cues and shops, cops and controls, eh?!

A Litzi stroll

A favorite place of Brenna’s is the Lady’s chappel down in the Jonental. Visiting it makes for a nice little hike down the slope past the Litzi Weiher, then follow the brook to the chappel, find an interesting plate, new to us but up for quite a while anyway, which tells about the chappel and the old, old Litzi house which stands from about the time of the Magna Charta. Yes! a dendrochronological date (the wood rings) places it as early as the first part of the 13th century or possibly a bit later in the early 14th.

The a steep path leads up to the terrace upon which the Litzi hamlet spreads out and one of the memorable items is the little house where yesteryear the local farmers brought their milk to be ferried then to regional centres for further distribution as milk, butter or cheese.

Visiting the Litzi

That means returning to the olden days, and long ago, but some are still there! Old friends, Jacqueline & Hugo, who kept in contact and gratiously invited us, and new friends, Beatrice and Patrick with Joël, who generously offered the upstairs in the Litzi house to accommodated Brenna and family. This upstairs is the very place where little Brenna spend summers with dad so far away.

First we look at the house which once was Regula’s and the top floor of which became the current guest quarters. We will look around into the garden and meet the current owners who like the friendly, century old place as much as we did.

There happened a few changes as the house regularly experienced over the centuries. Also the garden received a touch fitting the new owners and what used to be a drab garage was reoriented to the garden and became another girl’s very own.

Then let’s visit Jacqueline & Hugo’s place where some of us were made comfortable, and all of us were lavishly fed. And! Where the old barn in front, inside and behind it became an instant play paradise for some and an area of dolce far niente for others doing nothing but savour the pleasant quiet and close views.

For the kids things got topped off with an inflatable pool and to see good use of all the fun places Brenna’s cousin Florence with her kids, Leon and Diana, dropped by also for another good-by for this became the good-by place before heading to the airport.

In the evening we invited the whole crew, old and new neighbours to the Litzi Restaurant which excells in serving ‘half a frier in a basket’. It’s just a few steps down from our places of stay.

41 + 365

Happy birthday, Andrew!

And all day long, too. It was largely a day of rest and the choice to rest was right! Not only because the travellers are a bit weary, it finally rained! And it rained more during the night and foggy clouds wafted along the slope obscuring mountains across and valley below. So, here we go! The breakfast table and opening presents, the dinner table and another Raclette PLUS!

Version 2

 

Chur & Brambrüesch

Well, don’t even try to pronounce thes place names 🙂

Chur starts out with the rough and grating version of a Scottish …gh in English at times rendered as kh… in particular when it’s derived from German or from Russian, so: Khoor. – Good! Now lets try Brambrüesch …brahmbriash. Well, you’re not bad (thanks to my clever transliteration, I dare add).

Ok, so we start the day on the deck up in Ruschein, then take a Postauto down to Ilanz/Glion, a train along the Rhine to Chur (which is in Romansh Cuera, in Italian Coira, in French Coire, in the old Gothic of the Ostrogothic chieftain Theodericopolis [didn’t last, obviously] and Curia in Latin). I was born there, I must know and I do know and whether it’s Chur, Schaan in Liechtenstein or Bregenz in Austria which was renamed by that Ostrogoth is up to debate but in my opinion, and Curia being the capital city of the Roman province Rhaetia, …well, it’s gotta be Chur (‘member? Khoor!) but it’s not thusly in my passport, it’s plain Chur. – Let’s have a look then.

Coming and going we used the Obertor which gives onto a bridge which crosses the Plessur river coming from Schanfigg valley, and we will see down into once we will have been whisked up the slope to Brambrüesch (…brahmbriesh, righ?!). So let’s see that part of the outing, cable car and smaller gondolas, to get high above Chur (you can say it by now without ‘training wheels’!) and the Rhine valley.

The big gondolas take 45 people, the small ones just four. At first there are good views of Chur and the Rhinetal (…tal, well, like ‘dale’, eh? The large varieties). Higher up the views give to the east into the Schanfigg and beyond and south into the valley along the Julier Pass route (cars) to Lenzerheide (and onward to Savognin and St. Moritz). The last photo shows a mountain on the watershed between Rhine and Inn/Danube. As a sample of a quiet village in Schanfigg I grabbed a tele-shot of Lüen …errr, Luw-an or some such?! Nice church there with paintings of a famous master but not known by his proper name (unknown), rather he is known by his chief work in Waltensburg. (I’ll add some even tho’ this year’s visit didn’t get us to these places.)

After the obligatory gelati and coffees we headed down again, the blue windows of the large gondola once again made photography difficult but afterwards in Rhätische Bahn we had the windows wide open and got pictures without any tint other than heat.

After escalating down into the Chur main station and up and onto the train toward Ilanz/Glion a last photo of Andrew counting 41 years and 364 days. – Go figure!!

Train ride proceeded nicely thru the gorge of the Anterior Rhine aka Ruinaulta, we curved around that high water mark above which in medieval times a stronghold kept an eye on river traffic, we made it thru Versam-Safien in the middleof the gorge with the bizar rock formations eroded out of the debris of that gigantic mountain slide (see above and it’s just about 10k years since), and then back into the Foppa, the basin of Ilanz/Glion and high above it Ruschein, right there at the little bump in the slope. Toward the west and up valley the mountains of Bündner Oberland or Surselva.

Ilanz / Glion

Four years ago Ruschein and a dozen other communities amalgamated to a larger communal region of Ilanz/Glion, officially bilingual, German and Sursilvan (Romansh). On Saturdays there’s a street market and Regula accompanied the Canadians to the event. However …they forgot to take pictures and the official photographer was not along but resting.

No problem tho’, I just visited down there and took some pictures in the town with medieval, baroque and contemporary buildings proudly calling itself emprem marcau spel Rein, the first city upon the Rhine. It is small to be sure, three lanes or narrow streets running east-west and three running north-south. Two of the four gates are still there, and so we go for a brief visit.

In the one picture above showing the inner town with a garden you can see high above the village of Ruschein. And the photos below here show Ilanz/Glion from a hay meadow a bit below the village and farther up from the view point at the village church. The first overview includes Pez Mundaun, the last one shows the Cadeina dil Signina – the Signina chain with the split peak, Pez Fess (compare ‘Fess’ with ‘fissured’ …there you go, same roots in Latin).

Lag Davos Munts

The little lake behind the hills in Val Lumnezia across from Ruschein is a charming place to go swimming and more outdoors fun. The deeper waters around 20 C refresh the swimmers, the shallower waters are for the kids to folic. And then there’s a great beach volley ball patch, sandy and warm.