Dwight Peck's personal Web site

Winter 2003-2004

wonderful wintry fun in the country the neo-cons have so far overlooked


A quick dash to the loo above the Pré de St-Livres

You may not find this terribly rewarding unless you're included here, so this is a good time for casual and random browsers to turn back before they get too caught up in the sweep and majesty of the proceedings and can't let go.

The farm of Pré de St-Livres, 12 April 2004

Professors Durham and Pirri pass the farm at the Pré de St-Livres, bound singlemindedly for the ski-club hut on the ridge in the distance and carrying a fair amount of gourmet curried chicken with them.

On the way, the former ACS professors pause to look down into the enormous hole in the ground called the Glacière de St-Livres in the grove of trees beyond.

It's down there.

There.

We're continuing up this way for a while.

Prof Durham, carrying all the gourmet curried chicken, lags slightly behind on the uphills.

Halfway up the ridge, discussions ensue on how to deal with the curried chicken issues before the April lack of refrigeration becomes obvious.

We'd better hurry then.

Seeking a good luncheon spot

. . . just looking for a flat place to spread out the tablecloth and napkins and tuck in.

Almost desperate for lunch, Prof Durham tops out onto the ridge and joins Dr Pirri in madly tearing at the plastic packaging to get at the gourmet curried chicken.

Dr Pirri, with gourmet fruity black bread in hand, invites the narrator to try some of the curried chicken, 12 April 2004.

Fortified by chicken, Prof Durham darts upward towards the cabin at the top of the ridge.

The ski-club cabin hangs at the top of the ridge overlooking the Pré de St-Livres (and Lake Geneva). An excellent vacation spot for some calm and relaxation amid the hectic round of quotidien affairs, but has it got a clean restroom, I ask?

Two hikers circumambulate the ski-hut looking for the bathroom.

No worries, there's the loo, exactly at the top of the cliffs -- actually about one foot beyond the edge of the cliffs, for obvious reasons.

WELL! That's all right then.

Leaving the ski-club hut, bound down into the Creux d'Enfer and roundabout back to the car.

Dr Pirri and his extra-strength depleted-uranium belt glowing strangely, bound for the Creux d'Enfer and, eventually, back to the car.

Emerging from the forest

. . . and thoroughly lost.

Winter 2003-4


Feedback and suggestions are welcome if positive, resented if negative, . All rights reserved, all wrongs avenged. Posted 20 May 2004, revised 22 July 2008, 7 January 2014.


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