Although the square next to Montreux's market hall is now entirely clear of remaining construction material following the long slow dismantling of Christmas Market temporary structures, I noticed yesterday afternoon that the Market Hall itself was still host to several temporary structures, so I went across and investigated what was there, and discovered a patinoire had been set up under cover of its permanent wrought iron structure.
This particular skating rink was unlike one I'd ever seen before with a smooth polymer surface, on which ordinary ice skates could be used. Wearing safety gloves was an obligatory requirement to avoid unpleasant injuries. I know artificial indoor ski slopes have existed for the past half century, and I remember their polymer surface resembled a carpet of fine bristles, though that had probably become more sophisticated with the passage of time. It would certainly be cheaper to run than one with an ice surface, and especially in a milder winter lakeside climate. Towns and villages higher up in the mountains can rely on averagely lower temperatures to make maintenance of an ice surfaced rink cost effective. It's seven years or so now since I last tried ice skating with the grandchildren. I wasn't tempted to try this alternative, as I feel over protective towards my knee joints these days, and the same for skiing too, which I used to love.
Walking into town alongside the lake, I noticed for the first time a motorboat off-shore equipped with a couple of lightweight mechanical hoisting devices. I could hear the whine of battery powered motors clearly across the water. A couple of fishermen were out inspecting nets and collecting their catch. This made me think of Valdo's son-in-law is a lake fisherman, based near Nyon. Earning a living entirely from catching lake fish is becoming increasingly difficult, due to scarcity, which has much to do with climate change. The waters down at the shallower west end of Lac Leman are warmer than they used to be, which is not so favourable for the lake fish to breed. Waters at the east end of the lake are deeper, and that much colder, in the vicinity where the Rhone flows into it. It's said to take more than eleven years for Rhone water to enter and exit the lake.
Today, I walked up the lake to Villeneuve, the small town at the end of the lake beyond the Chateau de Chillon, which developed in the 12th-13th centuries at the same time as the Chateau. It has a fine Parish Church of the same age, dedicated to St Paul, whose architecture reflects the influence and Cistercian monasticism in this region. There are a couple of long straight streets of old houses with many and varied small shops and cafes, giving it the feel of a village. New housing areas stretch up vineyard covered slopes overshadowed by Vaudois Alpine peaks. It has a lakeside beach and boating marina, plus a working railway station, and easy access to the autoroute. A very desirable place to live, with the tourism hot-spots of Montreux and Vevey a convenient distance away. I bet it's very expensive to buy a house there too!
Beyond the marina there's a short length of canal, which carries excess water from a reservoir called Lac de l'Hongrin 870 metres up in the Prealpes Vaudois. This is home to several small boats, among them, those used by lake fishermen, plus 'La Demoiselle', a distinctive traditional barque lémanique sail boat of the kind used on the lake for centuries, to ferry heavy cargo in the age before steamships. Geneva has the barque 'Neptune' similar to Villeneuve's, and Lausanne has 'La Vaudoise'. There are five altogether, two of them in France voisine. These have been restored and can be seen out and about in good weather.
Along the banks of the canal are a series of privately owned wooden holiday chalets. One of them serves as a land base for the lake fishermen.
The cost of a locally sourced fish for a favourite regional dish is an eye-watering £46 a kilo, which reflects both real scarcity and increased demand. I understand that much of the produce consumed here is imported coming from Irish or Eastern European lakes.
The road behind the line of chalets leads into la réserve naturelle des Grangettes. It's a large wetland conservation area which stretches across the valley floor, with the Rhone running through it into the lake, and the only one of its kind hereabouts.
This is a region where migratory species find a respite during long continental journeys, or where they over-winter and breed. I walked a short distance into the reserve and climbed the 20m high wooden observation town. In the field below was a group of half a dozen bird-watchers, with telescopes and cameras, all facing a particular corner for a while before moving on. What they were looking at, or looking for? I wondered. There wasn't much avian activity while I was in the tower, probably the wrong time of day, so I climbed down and set off to walk back to Territet. As I reached the road out of the reserve I briefly saw what I believe was a black heron in flight, said to be a visitor to the reserve - sheer luck! Also amazing, was to see a roadside hazel tree festooned with catkins, in the middle of January. It was a splendid outing in excellent conditions, a walk of just 9km from the church. Now I've seen Villenuve, next time, I'll take the bus and walk for much longer in the nature reserve. It's bound to be rewarding.
The highlight of the evening, yet again was another double episode of Parisien crimmie 'Engrenage/ Spiral'. Full of socks, twists and turns, it never fails to hold the attention. Even if its revelations are on times distressing and sordid, this feels truthful and not overdone. In the nasty world of crooks and cops, everyone is flawed, compromised or hurting in some way, and seeing justice done is a real struggle, against oneself as well as adversaries.
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