Day-trip to Brazil... err, Weggis, Switzerland

LUZERNE & WEGGIS, SWITZERLAND – June 3, 2006

Now hold on just one minute there… how did I get to Brazil? Last I remembered, I crossed borders, but I don’t recall leaving Europe altogether…

Suddenly, I’m surrounded by flailing hips and pulsating Brazilian beats, dark-haired and dark- skinned Brazilians with passion for life in their dark, smiling eyes, the smell of rice and skewered meats, and tables strewn with Brazilian flags and shots of Ciaparinha loaded down with limes. There’s a man with a basket of fruit on his head, doing the salsa with a blow-up doll of a dark-haired woman, and most of the crowd standing around him are clad in yellow and green soccer jerseys.

And then it hits me. I’m not in Brazil, after all (what a relief!! I think I’d be in serious trouble with Immigration Services!). I’m in Weggis, a 40-minute ferry ride from Luzerne, the holy ground upon which the popular Brazilian soccer team has been beefing up their plays during the past few weeks of pre-World-Cup soccer camp.

On this, the last day of soccer camp, Weggis was a mess of die-hard Brazilian soccer fans and plenty of locals who just popped in for the day to see what all the fuss was about. And then there were total soccer outsiders like me, who came along for the ride because, c’mon, how often do you have a chance to experience some local celebrity-like commotion when you’re popping between cities more often than you change the gallon of milk you keep in the fridge?

Thomas, Simone, and I took the ferry over the Weggis this afternoon, after a mid-morning climb up the hill near his flat to the famous Gutsch hotel, a beautiful old place that, much to the chagrin of the local population, closed down a few years ago, locking away one of the most romantic spots from which to enjoy a Swiss meal surrounded in old-world ambience while looking out over the lake and mountains for which Luzern is so famous. Although the hotel is closed, the view from the landing is still free for the taking, and on this beautiful morning, we took in our fill. (Interestingly, Thomas told me that Michael Jackson has shown some interest in the property in recent months. As you can imagine, the local community aren’t fanatic about the idea.)

The ferry ride over to Weggis was blissful. Forty minutes of sailing across pristine lake waters, a cool breeze skimming the surface and cooling our cheeks until bright, red patches emerged where our broad smiles stopped. Midway across, the breeze blew the clouds off the mountain tops, and the beauty of Lake Luzerne, ringed with layers of forested peaks and ice-capped peaks beyond, was revealed. Docking in the harbour, we hiked the rest of the way up to the base camp, all the while enjoying the warmth of the sun as it shone down over the village.

We knew when we arrived at “Soccer City.” There could be no question about it. It was one huge Brazilian party. Up one side and down the other of the paved pedestrian path were shops and stands around which hungry fans were clustered, chomping on Swiss sausages, shovelling Brazilian-spiced rice, sipping Brazilian liquours and chugging Swiss beers.

People everywhere were clad in soccer jerseys, flags draped Superman-style across their shoulders, women sporting green-and-yellow Hawaiian leis and too-tight green-and-yellow tube tops. As Latin beats blared from huge speakers near one well-populated tent, dozens of Brazilian joined in to switch their hips and a multitude of other body parts in expression as only a Brazilian could. From a high-profile rooftop nearby, a half-dozen costumed women twitched their bodies sensuously, then in perfect unison, removed their overskirts to reveal Brazilian-cut bikini bottoms underneath.

We walked up and down the promenade, living the Vida Loca with the Brazilian crowd for as long as we could take the heat under our many layers of cold-weather clothes (boy, was that weather man in trouble!). We stopped for a Brazilian lunch of chicken and rice, and while standing there with our forkfuls, managed to bump into an old friend of Thomas’s, a sweet Hungarian girl named Csilla, who was in Luzerne for a few days on business. She worked as a professional pianist, playing in upscale hotels as the evening entertainment.

We talked for a few minutes before she had to rush off, but not before leaving me with her address and phone number for her Budapest residence, and inviting me to stay there when I came through town. The generosity of the Europeans never fails to amaze me.

Finally, having had our fill of Soccer City, we boarded our return ferry back to Luzerne and adjusted once again to life in tranquil Switzerland. But oh, that Brazilian madness was hard to shake…

~Melanie