We can see France from our balcony. It’s right there. I mean, there aren’t too many times in one’s life where you can say—“let’s head over to France for lunch and be back home in time for dinner.” Which is exactly what we did today.
The plan was to take a scenic boat ride from Montreux to Lausanne where we would switch boats for the quick trip across the lake to Évian-les-Bains. If the name sounds familiar, it’s probably because you’ve seen it on water bottles at home. This is the namesake of the famous Évian water, and—as we’d learn later in the day—it has a storied and fascinating history.
We enjoyed the beautiful sunny day from the deck of the boat. It wasn’t busy at all, and we splurged for first-class tickets, which gave us lounge chairs. Positioned to enjoy the spectacular view of the terraced Lavaux vineyards, we were close enough to shore to see the details—the villas, châteaus, the perfectly carved vineyards on what look like impossibly steep slopes—but far enough that the trains looked like toy models gliding across a postcard. Switzerland is definitely fake.
We were in Évian before noon, and Cedar can now say he’s set foot on French soil. For a five-year-old, it’s pretty slick—he’s traveled to more places than I had by age 22. Our goal was to find a restaurant for lunch and then do a little exploring. And, as always, Sheila had a plan. She led us to a lovely spot with a large terrace cantilevered out over the water.
After a quick glance at the menu, we all chose the prix fixe meal—it looked like chicken and veggies, with salad and dessert. Needless to say, we were a little surprised when the “salad” that arrived looked more like a loaf of mystery meat. I don’t know what came over me—maybe being in France and wanting to do as the French do, or maybe just a bit of showing off—but I tucked into the meatloaf-looking starter (pâté), and it actually turned out to be pretty good.
I’m sure I was horrifying the other restaurant guests as I mixed the pâté with the other fancy garnishes on the plate, and then made a sandwich with the table bread—but I wasn’t too concerned. Len, Cedar (for a few bites), and I enjoyed our mystery meat starter. I’m writing this blog a few days later, and I’m proud to say that cooking meat may, in fact, be overrated— turns out I’ve eaten a lot of raw pork this trip and survived to tell the tale.
Kidding aside, the meal was great. What we assumed would be chicken fingers turned out to be perfectly cooked chicken in a fancy mustard sauce. The dessert was divine. And our side? French fries, of course—although here, you can just call them “fries.”
After lunch, we sought out the famous Source Cachat—the divine spring that produces Évian water. Cedar and I don’t carry water bottles like our travel companions, so we can both say we drank straight from the source. Not sure if that’s legal, but we made it back from France without incident. No harm, no foul.
On our final full day with Sonya and Len, we decided to head back to one of our favorite spots—just a short cogwheel train ride away—Rochers-de-Naye. The longer we stay here, the more Swiss we’re getting—even I’ve been showing up uncharacteristically early for things. And as I mentioned before: insider knowledge. We spent our last ride standing, so this time we got down to Montreux with plenty of time to secure seats.
After a nice hike at the top, we returned to the alpine restaurant to introduce Sonya and Len to another favorite dish—yep, rösti! I’m morbidly curious to calculate how much cheese I’ve consumed per week while living here. If it weren’t for all the hiking and uphill walking I keep getting tricked into, I’d probably be 400 pounds. But as I hope you find out one day, there is never a good reason to say no to a proper rösti. And the one served at the tiny restaurant on top of Rochers-de-Naye is among the best I’ve had.
That evening was another quiet one. Sonya and Len were catching an early train to Zurich, then on to Milan and Rome, so they needed to pack and probably decompress from a whirlwind few days with Team Lum. Again, we were so happy to see friends and to show off this beautiful place. We’re excited to hear about the rest of their trip—and maybe just a little jealous that theirs is just beginning, while ours is slowly winding down.
