Rougemont - the village
Rougemont is a scenic village that you will pass through, when driving from Gstaad to Gruyeres. Take a stop, park your car at the church and take a little walk into the village that offers some really great wooden houses and it even had some great decorations in the street that mark the area for the pedestrians (see it in my last photo).
Knock on that window...
Well, if you are here reading this, then you probably want to hear the story. I was supposed to meet up with a friend, and long story short, that didn’t happen. I found myself in this small but very expensive part of Switzerland. The attempt to find a relatively cheap place to stay for the night seemed futile. “ya, right” I thought, “there has to be other poor a$$ mofos like me who come stubl’n around these parts.” I walked in the tourist information desk and inquired about affordable accommodations, since I did not want, nor could, pay the $350.00 USD for the open hotel. They gave me a map and an address to a chalet that was supposed to rent out a room for 10 Swiss Franks, and pointed me in the general correct direction.
Perhaps it was the rain that enabled me to come to terms with having no idea where this place was about an hour sooner than normal. I asked a kind gent for some guidance. He assured me that in the school like building across the street I could find a lady who could help me to find the street I was looking for. Sure ‘nuff, I found such a lady who was kind enough to walk me to the beginning of the street in question, which started at the base of a mountain. The map was wrong.
I began to walk up the road, and walk, and walk... By now it was raining pretty hard. I soon realized that there are no numbers on the houses and with my legs sore and cloths soaking wet, it did not take me long to knock on random people houses. At the 2nd house the people were home and a lady informed me that I had walked to far and it is back down the hillside. At the 3rd door I visited, a pleasant gentleman pointed me next door. He instructed me to “walk across the grass, knock on the small kitchen window, and a lady will answer the window and be able to help you.
“Okay” I thought, ignoring the fact that it was a little strange to be doing this. I would however follow his instructions and knock on the small window. I was beginning to feel relieved that I finally reached my destination! To my surprise, not one, but two ladies answered the window, (looked to be mother and daughter), and happened to be the only people I met, who didn’t know English in Gstaad. (I will let you make your own conclusions) The resulting basic conversation informed me that they were not renting rooms. I probably looked very pitiful at this moment, hiking around in the rain for a better portion of an hour with a big backpack on, etc… but they did not help.
I worked my way back to the now closed Visitor Center. I caught the last train to Geneva, and 2 ½ hours later, soaking wet, I ended back at the hostel I was in the night before.
Having a few extra days, I decided that I needed to go someplace fun and sunny. I choose to go to Barcelona that night. The following morning I would learn when the next train would be leaving and I was going to be on it.
I had no idea that this was going to be the beginning of a crazy couple of days.