After we left Artena, Italy on Wednesday, the plan was to head further down the country to the Calabria region to visit the city of Cosenza, the location where Steven’s grandmother was born. I had really wanted to find information on Catarina Stano for her last surviving daughter, Steven’s Aunt Mary, but he felt that we would be too far down in Italy to make it back to Ramstein by next week to try and catch a military hop back to Baltimore Washington International.

So instead, we made plans to head towards Germany again, but then I got a great idea… let’s stop in Lausanne, Switzerland and I can look for MY family beginnings… it’s on the way… with just a slight detour!

If you know my husband, you know he rolled his eyes at that thought. He says he doesn’t get a vacation, it’s always a research trip… he’s only partly wrong.

So a stop in Lausanne is exactly what we did. After a six-hour ride up from Rome, we pulled into Lausanne train station at about 9 pm and walked 15-20 minutes to the hotel… up more hills. My husband thinks I intentionally pick locations and hotels that will purposely have him walking up a hill. After we check in to the Moxy… a new and totally amazing hotel, we learn that we could have taken the subway up one stop and been a block from the hotel. At least we had this valuable piece of information for our departure.

I wasn’t sure about the Moxy because it’s a very modern and “hip” establishment with lots of communal spaces and crazy decor, but I ended up loving it! When we checked in there were young people hanging out, working on computers, talking, and having a good time. Since that’s all I see, I asked the clerk if we were going to be the oldest folks in the hotel and they assured me we would not be.

Upstairs in our room, we dropped off our baggage which, at this point in time, still only consisted of our individual backpacks, and went in search of food. The Golden Arches greeted us right outside the door like a beacon in the night and so we went against our rule and ate fast food from an American company while in Europe. But… after a week of pasta, pizza, and drinks with no ice, that burger and especially those fries were AMAZING!

On my own

The next morning, Steven asked me what my plans were. We had two full days in Switzerland and I wanted to do so much! I said I wanted to find Poliez-le-Grand, the ancestral home of the Panchauds (my maiden name) and I wanted to see Lausanne’s old town – its historic district. He told me to go find my village and he’d explore the area around the hotel. I couldn’t believe he didn’t want to join me on this adventure, but it wasn’t hard to convince me to go out on my own.

The first thing I had to do was get a few Swiss Francs. Even though Switzerland is in Europe and a country in the Schengen region, it is not a part of the EU and so it doesn’t use the Euro but its own money. I made my way to the train station, got a pass for the day’s travels using my newly obtained Swiss Francs, and also bought one for the next day in case I needed to go back… it’s better to be prepared.

After I figured out the route, I hopped onboard the subway line and headed to the edge of town, where I would finish the rest of my trip by bus… two buses actually. We’re talking real rural village. Forty minutes later, I get off in Poliez-le-Grand Village. Quiet, empty, and with a half dozen buildings in the town square. I found my way into the local supermarket and found paper and a pen, something I had been looking for for the past week but was unable to find in Italy. My thought was I would go to the local cemetery and look for the headstones of my ancestors.

I tried to ask a couple of people where the local cemetery was, but not one of them spoke English, apparently, I was too far out from the city. My French is extremely limited, no more than an A1 level, but I was able to gather that there was no cemetery in Poliez-le-Grand. So I decided to venture into the building that had a picture of a boxer and the word “biere” on it. I figured it had to be a restaurant or pub.

It was an amazing restaurant! I had a delicious three-course meal, the house offering for the day, basically because the waitress didn’t speak English and she spoke too fast for me to fully understand her but I did catch the word “cordon bleu!” The meal started with a soup that I most definitely enjoyed and would have liked to have more, but don’t ask me what it was. It was just good! Next, came the main dish of cordon bleu, green beans, and spinach? in some type of yellowish sauce and tiny twice-baked potatoes that looked like roses… très magnifique!

While eating, I googled churches in the area and discovered the L’Eglise du Poliez-le-Grand was just a few meters up the road, so that was my next stop. It’s a gorgeous building with its beginning in the 12th century and rebuilt in1699.

But there is no cemetery.

Google showed me a few cemeteries in a couple of other villages, so I picked one and started walking towards it using my google map as my guide. I had 25 minutes of walking before I would arrive when I caught sight of a bus. I reach for the day pass I had placed in my flannel shirt pocket but discover I’ve lost it. It must have fallen out of somewhere between the store, restaurant, church, or the 300 or so meters I’ve walked.

Damn.

Feeling bold, I hopped on the bus, acting like I belong and praying he doesn’t ask for my ticket. He doesn’t…. and then we start heading in the opposite direction… 45 minutes… 1 hour… 1 hour and 25 minutes away from where I wanted to go… I’m thinking that’s karma repaying me. Then school kids started getting on the bus like they were going to school. I was totally confused because it was about 1:30pm. More and more kids hopped on… we’re talking six to 10-year-olds. Soon the bus was full and loud and I had little boys speaking French and peering around my bus seat and then giggling at me. It was hilarious! The bus driver was calm throughout it all, you could tell this was a common occurrence and only stopped one time to tell the little guy behind me to sit down, at least that’s what I think he said, but he did sit back down right away.

By this time, I had been on the bus for a good 25 minutes, just riding around in the countryside. The bus soon pulls up to a school, and all the kids hop off and head into the play yard. There is a delivery truck blocking the way of the bus so it can’t leave the school. Several loud words in French from the bus driver and a young man comes running out and sheepishly moves his truck. The bus driver is now aware that I am still on the bus, turns to me, and asks a question. The only word I made out was “madame.” I shrug, say, “Je ne parle pas Francais” and in English mention the word cemetery. He goes back to driving.

Forty minutes later, I’m soon at my original point of boarding and now headed in the right direction. Ten minutes later, I hop off when my google map says we’ve arrived at the cemetery and head towards the sacred spot. It is not the right cemetery. There isn’t a grave in there that’s older than the 1920s. So disappointed, although I did find a couple of Panchauds located in the cemetery.

I debate whether to back-track my trail but didn’t want to run into the same driver again. I notice a train station and headed over to it. Figured out the route and bought a ticket to take me back to Lausanne. Not one time was I asked for a ticket for the subway, train, or the multiple buses that I took.

I walk back to the hotel and Steven is sitting outside smoking. “How was your trip? Did you discover anything?” “Only that no one speaks English in the countryside and they don’t have cemeteries. I did have a wonderful meal and got pictures of the village and church so it wasn’t a total bust. I just need more time.”

After a short nap, we venture out in search of food. The location of the hotel is in Lausanne’s up-and-coming entertainment district. Warehouses have been converted into restaurants, bars, cinema, and shopping. A very trendy neighborhood that apparently rarely sleeps. The central square has restaurants and bars surrounding a huge sitting area and hookahs are everywhere… and so is the smell. Unfortunately, my asthma can’t take the smell of the smoke and we ended up at a restaurant across from the hotel which serves Hong Kong food. A very tasty treat and they made some of the best iced tea!

Tomorrow… Old Town!