Switzerland

A snowy Sunday and Monday in Prague and Dresden

On Sunday 17^th January 2016, I conducted worship in two different countries, something I shall now be doing quite regularly in 2016 on the third Sunday of each month. At 11.00, I celebrated the Eucharist and preached at St Clement’s Anglican Church in Prague. Then at 18.00, I led a service of Evening Prayer in the Frauenkirche, Dresden.

St Clement's Church, Prague in the snow © Ricky Yates — St Clement’s Church, Prague in the snow © Ricky Yates

Over the weekend, we had a further serious snowfall, so this was the scene that greeted me as I arrived outside St. Clement’s, waiting for our host Czech Protestant congregation to finish their service. It was still snowing when I took the photograph.

From the second week in January, through to around the second or third week of March, Prague enters what I always refer to as the ‘non-tourist season’. It is the time when you can walk around some of the popular historic sights in Prague, without being run over by hordes of visiting tourists. However, tourists are a great boon to us as a Church as, on most Sundays, the congregation is boosted numerically by visitors. Some of them also contribute quite generously to the collection. But for the second Sunday running, we had no visitors at all in the congregation – I knew everybody by name. Clearly we are in the ‘non-tourist season’!

We were therefore, a slightly smaller congregation than usual, with the weather and winter ailments, preventing some people from attending. But nearly all those who did come were very un-Anglican – they sat together in the front pews! Being regulars, they knew where the limited under-pew heating is most effective 🙂

After warming up at Coffee Hour and enjoying post-service refreshments in the hall across the street in Klimentska 18, I then headed off on a short three-stop tram journey to Praha hlavní nádraží (Praha hl.n.) – Prague main railway station, in the company of my friend and ministerial colleague, Rev’d Dr Karen Moritz. I had invited Karen to be the preacher at the January English-language Anglican Evening Prayer service in the Frauenkirche, in advance of her leaving Prague in the next few months.

Upon arrival at Praha hl.n., I immediately checked the departures board, to see whether the platform number for our train to Dresden Haupbahnhof (Dresden Hbf), was displayed. Unfortunately there was no platform number but instead, a note that departure would be delayed by thirty minutes. The train was coming from Budapest and presumably had experienced problems with the adverse weather conditions en-route.

Sitting on the station concourse, constantly scanning the departures board, I increasingly began to panic that we wouldn’t make it to the Frauenkirche on time. Finally, we were summoned to platform six, and the train that was meant to set out at 14.27, departed just after 15.00. Fortunately, there were no further delays between Praha hl.n. and Dresden Hbf. Instead, we actually made up nearly ten minutes of the delay. Following a three-stop tram journey and then a five minute walk, we safely arrived at the Frauenkirche, just after 17.30.

I knew from reading the Frauenkirche website, that between Monday 11th – Saturday 16 January, the Church had been completely shut down, to allow a variety of repair and maintenance tasks to be carried out, as well as a very thorough cleaning of the interior. Apparently, this happens every year, during a quiet week in January. Having been admitted by the verger, I immediately smelt the wood stain with which the wooden floor under pews, had been treated. Sitting on the dais for the service, I noticed how bright and sparkling the rededos was, behind the altar 🙂

I had been told back in July, that numbers attending the Anglican service in winter, could be quite low, around 35-40, for exactly the same reason as in Prague – it being the ‘non-tourist season’! But when I did a rough head count, during a musical interlude within the service, I arrived at a total of just over sixty. They looked somewhat scattered, but then the main body of the Church will seat in excess of three hundred people. It made me realise that my figure of around one hundred attending the service last September, may well have been an underestimate.

With Rev'd Dr Karen Moritz in the Frauenkirche © Ricky Yates — With Rev’d Dr Karen Moritz in the Frauenkirche © Ricky Yates

I have to say that I felt a lot less nervous leading the service last Sunday evening, than I did on my first outing last September. I really felt I had begun to build a bit of a rapport with some of the regular attendees. It was also a pleasure to hear Karen preach as she spoke about ‘The Foolishness of the Cross’, based on the Biblical text from 1 Corinthians 1. 18-31. We posed for this picture, under the pulpit, following the end of the service.

With members of the congregation in the neighbouring Bierstube © Gary Hohenstein — With Karen Moritz and members of the congregation in the neighbouring Bierstube © Gary Hohenstein

After getting dis-robed, Karen and I accepted an invitation to join a few of the congregation for a drink in a nearby Bierstube, the Augustiner an der Frauenkirche I ordered ein großes Bier, assuming I would get a 0.5l glass, in contrast to ein kleines Bier, a 0.3l glass. Much to everyone’s amusement, what arrived was ein sehr großes Bier, a one litre glass 😀 Evidence in this photograph.

The Lutheran Parish Church of St John, Bad Schandau © Ricky Yates

After staying overnight in Hotel Martha, I had hoped to get some photographs of snowy Dresden in daylight, especially as the sky cleared and the sun came out as we were finishing our breakfast. But catching the correct trams to get back to Dresden Hbf in time for our train back to Prague, took greater priority. However, we were treated to some spectacular views on our train journey home, which I was able to capture.

Soon after leaving Dresden, the railway line follows the valley of the River Elbe as it cuts through an area of sandstone mountains known as the Sächsische Schweiz – Saxon Switzerland. The mountains form the natural border between Germany and the Czech Republic. On the Czech side, the mountains are known as the Ceské Švýcarsko – Czech or Bohemian Switzerland. The name for the area was created by two Swiss artists, appointed to the Dresden Academy of Art in the second half of the eighteenth century. They believed the area to be very similar to their homeland in the Jura region of Switzerland.

Just after passing through the spa town of Bad Schandau, the train came to an unscheduled halt, which allowed me to get this photograph of the Lutheran Parish Church of St John, Bad Schandau.

When we did continue, once a long freight train had passed by in the other direction, we moved very slowly onto the other track, to pass a broken down freight train blocking our track. This is what enabled me to take the following three photographs. Whilst this caused us to be fifteen minutes late getting back to Prague, on this occasion, I wasn’t complaining 🙂

Snow-covered field by the River Elbe © Ricky Yates — Snow-covered fields by the River Elbe © Ricky Yates

Sächsische Schweiz and the River Elbe © Ricky Yates

Seeing this area, covered with snow and glistening in sun, has made me add Sächsische Schweiz and Ceské Švýcarsko to my ever-lengthening bucket list of places I would like to visit and explore.

Another insight into Czech life and culture

The rocks and forests of the Czech countryside © Ricky Yates

Yesterday, I officiated at the burial of ashes of two people, a husband and wife, into the family grave. Whilst this is something I would quite regularly do when Rector of a group of North Oxfordshire villages, this was the first time of doing so in just over six years of ministry here in the Czech Republic. I have also only conducted four funerals during that time, a reflection of the predominantly young age of the English-speaking expatriate population resident here.

However, although I conducted yesterday’s graveside service in English, it was very much a Czech occasion and was an illustration of several aspects of Czech life and culture. And because I want to protect the privacy of the family, I hope readers will forgive me for not referring to people or exact locations by name.

The existing family grave is located in the massive Olšanské Cemetery that lies in the Prague suburb of Žižkov. Whilst the cemetery is well-maintained by the local authority, like so much of Czech officialdom, it is not managed to encourage the practice of religious faith. Two things illustrated this.

The first was the attitude of the two cemetery staff who were present when we arrived at the grave. Whilst the grave had been opened and the appropriate hole dug, in true Czech bureaucratic style, the only thing that mattered to them was thoroughly checking the paperwork brought by the next of kin, the son of the deceased. Once they were convinced that the paperwork was in order, they just left us to it with a, ‘we’ll be back later to fill in’.

The second was the complete lack of provision for me. There was no chapel or vestry where I could robe & leave my belongings securely. Instead, aided by the eldest grandson of the deceased, who kindly held various things for me, I robed standing alongside a bench adjacent to a path running behind the family grave.

I have previously written about the Czech love of flowers which helps to keep innumerable flower shops and stalls in business. This love was very clearly in evidence with every family member arriving with a bunch of fresh flowers to lay on the grave. And I mean everybody, right down to the six great-grandchildren of the deceased.

However, it was what followed the graveside service which struck me as being so much part of Czech culture. The service was at 11.00 in the morning, so afterwards, everyone who attended was invited back to lunch. But lunch was not at the family flat in Mala Strana where I’d met the next of kin the previous day. Nor was it at a restaurant, not so far from the cemetery. No – we were all transported over thirty kilometres out of Prague into the Bohemian countryside, to a large three storey house – the family chalupa.

The house was built in the early 1930s, in a time that is now always referred to as ‘the First Republic’, when Czechoslovakia was an independent state between 1918-1938. The deceased couple were responsible for having it built.

The history of the house reflects the history of the nation. During the Second World War, when the country was occupied by the Nazis, there was a German military base nearby, so the house was commandeered to house a senior Nazi military officer. Then, following the communist coup of February 1948, the family were confined to the basement whilst the two floors above were occupied by others. Even after the Velvet Revolution of 1989 and the subsequent restitution of property laws, the family allowed a remaining ‘tenant’ to live in part of the house, until her death in the mid 1990s.

The son of the deceased gave a speech in which he recalled his childhood weekends and summer holidays, spent living in the basement and sleeping in a wooden ‘summer house’ in the garden. They were memorable times, despite the deprivation of the communist era.

And although he and his parents escaped to Switzerland in 1968, when he was in his late teens, and he, along with his wife and three of their four children, now live in England, this house in the Bohemian countryside is still the family home. Here, where his elderly uncle still lives, is where the soul of the family resides and was the only place where the lives of his late parents, who both lived into their nineties, could be properly celebrated.

The story of this family, could be told with some variations, by so many Czech families. The story also reflects the psyche of the wider Czech nation – that deep down Czech people believe that the soul of the nation is found in the forests, rivers and lakes of the Czech countryside. Even whilst we were eating our lunch yesterday, Má vlast, ‘My Country’ or ‘My Fatherland’ by Bedrich Smetana, was being played in the sitting room, music that encapsulates that very concept.

Since my return from Switzerland……

Five weeks ago today, I returned to Prague after spending a wonderful two weeks accompanying Sybille on her pilgrimage from Prague to Santiago de Compostela, walking with her across Switzerland. Since returning, I have successfully written and posted seven blog posts about our journey together. A big ‘Thank you’ to the faithful few who have left kind and appreciative comments on these recent posts.

The evidence of how far we walked can be seen by state of the soles and heels of my much loved walking boots. In the last couple of days of walking, I did slip slightly in a few muddy places, because of the increasing lack of tread. I also discovered that the waterproof cover, integral to my rucksack, was unfortunately no longer waterproof 🙁 . I have now invested in a new pair of walking boots, though I’ve yet to test them out over any serious distance. And I will buy a new, separate waterproof cover for my rucksack as, despite being twelve years old, it is otherwise still in good order.

Two other major things have happened since returning to Prague. On Tuesday 2^nd September, I paid another visit to my dermatologist at Vojenské nemocnice, the Military Hospital. Unfortunately, one Basel Cell Carcinoma (BCC) on the right side of my forehead had, despite numerous treatments with liquid nitrogen, refused to disappear. So we mutually agreed that the only way forward was to have it cut out under local anaesthetic.

What then followed speaks volumes for the efficiency of the Czech Health Service. Armed with a brief report from my dermatologist, I went straight-away to the plastic surgery department in another nearby building. There, without an appointment, the surgeon quickly examined the BCC and promptly gave me an operation date of Wednesday 10^th September – just eight days later.

My head following surgery! © Ricky Yates

The operation on Wednesday 10^th September, despite being under local anaesthetic, was a bit more major than I was expecting. I was grateful that I’d accepted the kind offer of my friend Rev’d Dr Karen Moritz, to accompany me to the hospital. This is how I looked following the operation – Karen being responsible for taking the photograph! Fortunately, when I returned to the hospital the next day for a follow-up visit, the head bandage was replaced by a large sticky plaster which I was able to remove the next day.

The wound was pulled together by six stitches, the last two of which, were only removed on Monday of this week. But the good news is that the histology report, whilst confirming that what was removed was a BCC, also said that it was completely removed – it was clear around the edges. I now have a return visit to the dermatologist booked for the middle of October.

Then on Monday 22^nd September, the day I had the last of my stitches removed, came the news that my daughter Christa, had gone into labour with her first child. Later in the evening came word from my son-in-law Ian, that I had become a grandfather for the first time, following the birth of my grandson Finley.

Because of breathing and other difficulties, Finley was immediately taken to the Special Care Baby Unit of the hospital in Northampton. But as this picture below, taken yesterday, shows, Christa and Ian were finally able to hold their newborn son for a short while. The latest news is that they hope to be able to take Finley home this weekend. I’m hoping to meet my grandson for the first time at the end of October when I’m visiting the UK for a few days.

My grandson Finley and his proud parents © Ian Margieson

Gland – Geneva

My final two days of walking through Switzerland, accompanying Sybille on her pilgrimage from Prague to Santiago de Compostela, took us through a series of towns and villages that are predominantly home to people who commute to work in Geneva. Whilst the surroundings became increasingly urban, there were still some attractive stretches of countryside in-between settlements.

On the morning of Tuesday 19^th August, we left the Pilger Herberge and walked through the town of Gland, passing under the main Lausanne-Geneva railway line by Gland station. Walking along a series of minor roads, we reached Prangins with this delightful Church at the centre of the village and a peaceful outdoor café where we enjoyed a mid-morning coffee.

Prangins then merges with the much larger town of Nyon which we traversed, parallel to the main railway line, before the chemin took us away to the more peaceful surroundings of the Bois Bougy where we found a bench to sit on whilst we ate our picnic lunch.

The next commune we walked through was Céligny, which is clearly aware that it lies on the Chemin de Saint-Jacques as it features five scallop shells on its coat of arms.

From Céligny, the chemin once more entered woods and fields before arriving at the impressive Château de Bossey, home of the Ecumenical Institute of the World Council of Churches.

Liturgical & Hymn book choice © Ricky Yates

Whilst we couldn’t see inside the main building, the chapel was open to visitors. We both smiled when we saw the bookshelves at the back of the chapel with an amazing variety of liturgical and hymn books in several different languages.

We had hoped to stay that evening in Commugny, about four-and-a-half kilometres on from the Château de Bossey, where there was another family who were listed as accueil jacquaire; people who offered overnight accommodation specifically for pilgrims. Sybille tried phoning their number two or three times during the day, but got no answer. We found the house as we entered Commugny, as it is situated right alongside the chemin. But ringing the door bell also received no reply.

So we walked on another couple of kilometres, into neighbouring Tannay where we stopped at a little shop and café and each had a small beer. Whilst we enjoyed our liquid refreshment, we agreed that we would stay in whatever accommodation we next reached when we walked on. Much to our amusement, immediately around the next corner was Auberge Lion d’Or. Our enquiry about the availability of a room received a positive response. It was expensive, but we both agreed that, as it was to be our last night together for three months, we might as well treat ourselves. So we did!

Sybille with her tablet & glass of red wine © Ricky Yates

We also enjoyed a splendid evening meal together on the terrace of the Auberge, where I managed to take this photograph of Sybille, checking out something using her tablet, especially bought for her pilgrimage, to enable her to keep in contact with ‘her world’. It also has a Kindle app to which many books have been downloaded, without adding weight to her rucksack 🙂

Although I did get a slightly askance look when I asked for a third cup of coffee 🙂 , breakfast at Auberge Lion d’Or was otherwise fine. Afterwards, we set out on our final day together, walking from Tannay, through Mies, Versoix, Bellevue and Chambésy, to the hillside village of Pregny where we enjoyed a lunchtime drink sitting on the garden terrace of a bar-restaurant.

We visited the village Church before the chemin then began to descend quite steeply and we had this first view across Lac Léman, of the city of Geneva with its famous fountain.

Yours truly has arrived in Geneva © Ricky Yates

Our actual entry into Geneva was where we had to walk alongside the main Cantonal road for about a kilometre. Sybille suggested I should pose directly under the sign, just to prove I did get there 🙂

Soon afterwards, the chemin took us from the busy road, through a park, to the side of Lac Léman where we ate a late picnic lunch. Then, after taking in my final view of both the lake and the fountain, we walked to the main railway station. There we said farewell to each other. I went to buy my ticket and catch the train to Bern and then on to Langenthal. Sybille walked on through Geneva to the Swiss – French border, some seven kilometres further away.

Ecublens – Gland

The tower of St-Sulpice Church with Lac Léman beyond © Ricky Yates

After a good night’s sleep and an excellent breakfast, we bid farewell to the Jordan family and walked the 1.5km back from Ecublens, to St-Sulpice Church, in order to rejoin the Chemin de Saint-Jacques. En-route, we were able buy bread for our picnic lunch. After the rain of the previous afternoon, the morning of Sunday 17^th August was fine and sunny. Not that we knew it then, but the previous day’s rain was the last wet weather were to experience whilst walking together.

From St-Sulpice to the larger town of Morges, the Chemin is almost exclusively along the shore of Lac Léman. Just occasionally, the path goes slightly inland, where somebody long ago managed to claim ownership of the lake shore, or to avoid a lakeside yacht club. Whilst we saw no fellow pilgrims, the way was busy with joggers and cyclists, all out for their weekend exercise.

This was our view of Morges as we walked towards the town with the Church on the right and the castle to the left.

We arrived at the town’s Swiss Reformed Church, soon after the end of Sunday morning worship. The congregation were enjoying post-service coffee and biscuits to which we were warmly invited to participate. Several people spoke to us in French and one older gentleman, in fluent English.

Interior of Swiss Reformed Church, Morges © Ricky Yates

This is a view of the interior of the Church. Whilst it is very much in the Protestant tradition with the pulpit centrally placed, it was interesting to see the use of liturgical colours with a green frontal for the Holy Table, (I’d better not call it the altar 🙂 ), and a similar one for the lectern. I think it reflects a greater interest than in the past amongst many Protestants, of valuing and marking the liturgical year. In another Swiss Reformed Church, I saw a chart explaining the traditional colours for the complete liturgical year!

The whole of this day, we had wonderful views across Lac Léman to a snow-covered Mt Blanc. I had great difficulty in choosing which of my many photographs, to use in illustrating this post 🙂

Barrel Organ and Swiss Horn © Ricky Yates

Further along the lake shore, adjacent to the castle, there was a musical fête in progress with various barrel organs playing and in this case, accompanied by a Swiss horn.

This is Morges Castle. Note the yellow waymarking sign, attached to the pole with the tourist information sign.

Soon after walking out of Morges, the Chemin leaves the lake shore for a while before returning once more in the attractive small town of St-Prex where we ate our picnic lunch.

Santiago is less than 2000km away! © Ricky Yates

After lunch, the next settlement we walked through was Buchillon where we spotted this sign on the side of a house. Sybille had by then already walked over a thousand kilometres but now she had less than two thousand to go!

By now we were walking through one of the main wine producing areas of Switzerland with south facing slopes going down to the shore of Lac Léman, covered in rows of vines. During our time together, we enjoyed many glasses of Swiss white wine, all of which were most quaffable. You very rarely find bottles of Swiss wine outside of Switzerland itself, no doubt because the Swiss drink it all themselves 😉

Footbridge over swollen river © Ricky Yates

Our route also took us across this bridge with the volume of water passing underneath being indicative of the heavy rainfall that Switzerland had experienced in the previous weeks.

Late in the afternoon, the chemin once more passed along the lake shore where there was a bar-restaurant, a couple of kilometres short of the village of Perroy. We stopped for a ‘cool glass of something’ and decided that we ought to start trying to find somewhere to stay for the night. There were a couple of B and B possibilities in Perroy on Sybille’s accommodation list. But when Sybille phoned to enquire, one was fully booked whilst her other call received no answer.

From the bar-restaurant on the lake shore, we walked uphill to the centre of the village of Perroy, and realised from reading various notices and the imposition of temporary parking restrictions, that over that weekend, the village was en-fête. We had arrived in the middle of an event which only happens once every four years – the celebration of the Abbaye de Perroy.

As was explained to us, the Abbaye was formed in the mid-nineteenth century as a local defence force but is now a glorified gun club who hold a shooting competition in August, once every four years, followed by a weekend of celebrations. The most successful shooters get to wear laurel wreaths on their heads and to be accompanied by attractive young ladies, as you can see if you follow this link to the one photograph from this year’s event which is so far up on their website.

We watched this grand parade through the village and were then invited, because we were passing pilgrims, to a reception on the terrace behind the Mairie where we were served complimentary glasses of wine with several varieties of local delicacies to nibble.

Band playing on the terrace in Perroy © Ricky Yates

Meanwhile, the band played on the terrace. And you cannot beat the view from the terrace! Sybille successfully found the village mayor and asked him if the Mairie had accommodation for pilgrims, as historically had been the custom. No it didn’t was his answer, but he told her that a nearby restaurant had rooms that we could try. However, with the village being en-fête, these were inevitably fully occupied.

So having enjoyed our wine and nibbles, but with nowhere to stay the night in Perroy, we walked on 2km to the edge of the larger town of Rolle. Here there was a campsite – but it didn’t have any cabins to let. Nearby was a sign for a hotel – but it was now defunct. Just as we were trying to decide what on earth to do, Sybille’s phone rang. It was the B and B in Perroy who had picked up on Sybille’s missed call from about three hours earlier. Yes her room was available. So we walked two kilometres back up the hill to Perroy Church, where our hostess picked us up in her car and took us to her home.

Route from Ecublens to Perroy 21km + 4km walking to Rolle & back!

After a comfortable night’s sleep and an excellent breakfast, we walked back down the self-same hill we had walked up and down the previous evening, into the town of Rolle. Here once more for a short while, the Chemin was alongside the shore of Lac Léman, and past this splendid castle.

Winston Churchill visited here © Ricky Yates

Then it was slightly more inland, through the long village of Bursinel, where this plaque informed us that none other than Winston Churchill had holidayed in the village, only a year after the end of the Second World War.

Gîte pour pèlerins/Pilger Herberge © Ricky Yates

Around 13.30, we reached the outskirts of the town of Gland. Here we knew there was a Gîte pour pèlerins/Pilger Herberge, specifically for pilgrims which, as you can see, was very clearly signposted. Although we had only walked for half a day, Sybille was keen to stay here. The door was locked, but a notice gave three phone numbers to ring. The third number answered and we were given a numeric code to key in, to open the door.

Once inside, Sybille declared it to be ‘Pilgrim heaven’. As well as a dormitory with eight beds, a shower and a toilet, there was a kitchen with cooking utensils and all necessary plates, cutlery, cups and glasses. There was wifi – the access code was on the noticeboard. But best of all, there was a washing machine and a drying machine.

After we had both showered and changed, we took full advantage of the washing machine. Sybille just wore the bare minimum for the rest of the afternoon – three items of clothing – so she could wash everything else she had with her. We didn’t need the drying machine as there were clothes racks and pegs, with the breeze and the sunshine doing the rest. Whilst our clothes were drying, we walked for twenty minutes to the nearest supermarket and bought things to cook an evening meal, along with appropriate liquid refreshment.

Later in the evening, as she had promised earlier on the phone, the hospitalera arrived to register us and to collect the very reasonable CHF 10 per person for staying overnight, plus CHF 2 for using the washing machine.