Here I Am in La Chaux du Fond (5/4)

If you’re looking at a Swiss map, look way west – south of Basel, west of Bern, even west of Neuchatel. La Chaux du Fond was a watchmaking town in the Canton of Neuchatel and the Jura Mountains. Why here?  Well . . . I thought I’d go to Bern next, but there were NO rooms available for my dates (unless I wanted to pay a fortune). Neuchatel was REALLY expensive, and La Chaux du Fond had the right place for the right price. So here I am! And so far, it’s been a good choice.

It was a relaxing train ride of about 2 hours from Basel. Beautiful scenery – low, forested mountains, houses that look like “Swiss houses” (from pictures), and lots of cows (for the cheese!). La Chaux du Fond was the last stop on my train. My hotel is very close to the train station – perhaps a bad omen (though it worked out perfectly in Basel), but the place seems nice enough. It’s an OLD building in which I have a single room with a shared bath – very much like what I had in Basel, without the beautiful view. Clean, probably safe, and centrally located. With the room came a free pass to a bunch of museums and experiences. Couldn’t possibly do them all – and I probably wouldn’t want to, but I did begin with the Musée International d’Horlogerie (International Museum of Watchmaking).

Incidentally, on the train from Basel, I noticed that the first stop was announced as “nexter Halt” and the second stop was announced as “la prochaine arrête.” From then on, everything became much more French, and much less German.

So, I was surprised and enchanted by this museum! There were all kinds of clocks! I loved the clocks on which things moved – birds chirping, people sawing wood, people twirling, etc..  There was even a clock with a “genie” sitting on a flying carpet, making Turkish coffee, pouring it into a cup, and drinking it.  Apparently, during the period when these clocks were popular, everyone else did, too! The museum had a video on an iPad set up next to a number of these clocks, and you could see the clock “perform.” (I supposed these old clocks wouldn’t last long if they performed for every visitor!)  It was so much fun to watch all this stuff that I forgot to budget my time.  Oh, well . . . When I finally got around to the rest of the exhibits, it was clear that the museum explained how each different clock worked (various “improvements” on prior types of clocks, i.e. the march of technology). There were also exhibits of clocks that were designed to tell time and record astrological movement, as well. There was a wonderful video showing how a watchmaker would put together and test a totally mechanical clock. And there were sample workbenches of watch-making tools. There was also a window (as in the old S.F.Exploratorium) through which you could watch people making repairs on clocks that were probably parts of exhibits “under repair.”

Pretty soon they were telling me it was time to leave – but not before I realized how much of a recent development wrist watches were. I think they were introduced in around 1920, but didn’t become common until about 1940. That made me think about the context within which my dad prized my grandfather’s pocket watches, and the context within which my dad got my mother a watch with the date inscribed on it before he left for WWII. I also started thinking about watches as retirement gifts, and when those gifts switched from pocket watches to wrist watches. I also mused about how my sons don’t wear watches – and as a result, weren’t interested in my getting them watches from Switzerland. “The times, they are a changin’”

I left the museum and started wandering around the park behind it, only to discover the amazing architecture of the history museum. (For those of you in the know, it looks like a ramp for vert skateboarding!) There was a group of teenagers – boys, natch – who were trying to do tricks (sans skateboard) by launching themselves at the low part of the building, and flipping onto the roof. I watched for a while, ready to do CPR, but there were no injuries while I was there. Then behind that, there was an amazing, two-story high clock. (I know you’re thinking of something round, with hour and minute hands.  Scratch that!) This was a bunch of steel pipes sticking up from the ground, and rounded at the top, with slats of various colors in between them.  There is a digital read-out of the time, and on every quarter hour, the clock starts moving, the slats go up and down, and music is played. Right in front of the clock, there is a little arena (wrong word, but I can’t think of the right one) where you can sit and watch. So . . . I did.

In the evening, I went out in search of dinner. Led by Google Maps, I went to a place described as a cozy, neighborhood place with good food – and that’s exactly what it was.  It felt like we could all start talking to one another – and people did a bit of that. The waitress was about my age, and only spoke French. She made me feel right at home, and waded through my college French. I really enjoyed it! How could I not, with pâté as one of the courses and crème bruleé for dessert? Two men were sitting at a nearby table eating fondue, drinking wine, and solving the world’s problems. There were a mother, a grandmother, and a 20ish girl at another table. And it was “date night” at three tables. As I listened to the French, I remembered how I felt on the drive to Montreal from either Detroit or Chicago, as the city became closer and the percentage of French on the car radio and on road signs increased. My ear would tune in, and as I approached the city, my memory of the words and phrases increased. As I sat, I also mused over how much more French than German I remember now. Is it Alzheimer’s? (remembering things from long ago over things that occurred recently) Or is it that I studied French over a longer period of time, had a language lab available, and actually used it a number of times (and it is similar to Spanish) vs. a recent, two-month intensive, with no language lab and limited use of the language outside of class (although I tried!) – AND German is difficult! Oh, well . . . I still want to continue with the German . . .

Anyway, I had a lovely day.