Two Surprises on the Way to Geneva

In the foothills of the Alps

It's been a long day of driving, not the happiest thing to do during the European vacation period. Through July and the first part of August, much of the population of Europe is on the road, for the most part headed south (in two weeks it's north). Weekends are the worst, which is why we traveled on Monday. There are several weekends labeled "Red" because of their traffic density, and reported on TV like sports events, with at least one picture of immense lines of cars stacked behind tunnel entrances or turnpike turnstiles. It wouldn't be summer without them.

We packed L.'s car and planned a route through Luxembourg, then south to Metz, Nancy and Dijon, and finishing up with a run through the French mountains into Geneva. This is a familiar route, and we must have driven it dozens of times. There was a great deal of traffic, as was expected, but as we stayed on the French turnpikes, the roads were safe and comfortable. My advice though: avoid the popular rest stops—vacations do not bring out the best characteristics of Europeans, or anyone for that matter.

Using the French roads is not cheap. The fee for the 500 km "payage" in France came to almost $40. (Imagine Florida charging $40 road fees to travel from J-Ville to Miami. I can see THAT happening in the near future.) Here, you do get something back for your money: smooth, wide, well-maintained roads through some of the most scenic countryside you will ever see. Traffic is also less on payage, and believe me when I say that that alone during the vacation period was worth the $40.

It was the first time in five years that we drove the expressway from Brussels to Luxembourg. We saw this road built over thirty years ago, re-built twice and repaved numerous times in the intervening years. It won't be long before it's again partially closed for resurfacing as a good length is in sad condition; road construction seems to be something beyond Belgian ken—or has a very low regional priority. The trees are very dense now on each side of the road and in the median; it's almost claustrophobic, and in places you can see very little of the Belgium—a pity, it's pretty. It reminded us of Ireland and its hedgerows.

France farm land, was, is, gorgeous. This is a civilized countryside, as you would expect after tens of centuries of tillage. As we left Dijon and headed on an eastward bent toward Geneva, we began climbing into the mountains and the views are stunning. The weather didn't cooperate fully and we ran into some rain and cloud, but on the good road it wasn't a problem.

We were early for our expected arrival in Geneva, so we decided to stop short of Switzerland and have dinner in a French village. After several false starts, and a great deal of negotiation over where to leave the expressway and strike out for a village, we decided upon Nantua, about 10km from the highway. It is a gem of a little town, laid out along a beautiful, green lake in a steep valley. We were a bit early for the restaurants, but located the Café Brasserie d'Centre near, as you expect from the name, the center. We ate what was offered, a simple menu of charcuterie, pork and rice, paired with an excellent Côte de Rhone wine, which, accompanied by a dessert, came to less than expected.

The evening wouldn't be complete without some excitement: our GPS decided that a forestry track up the side of the mountain was the means to regain the expressway. It was wrong. After bouncing along the precipice and scaring the bejesus out of the ladies (I was resolute, of course), I finally surrendered to the obvious, back-tracked, and the rest of the trip was without incident. We're now back in Switzerland for the first time in six years. Not many changes are expected.

A Spanish Mass

I accompanied N. and her sister, L. to Catholic Mass Sunday morning to view a special ceremony where a young friend and acolyte led the choir and sang. The Mass was in Spanish, and among other things, recognized the national day of Peru (and sang its national anthem!). I haven't lived in a Hispanic country in 34 years, but during that simple, informal Mass, all the warmth, the sense of family, and the delightful and honest humanity of the Hispanics came rushing back to me from those days. It was delightful…and the music was great, too.

The church was in repair; that is, it showed signs of repairs made. Why split hairs? Because little is now happening to finish the works, so the church is covered in primer and spackle. Money is an issue, of course, and many of the churches in Belgium are showing signs of deterioration.

This is not an insignificant building. It is in the middle of Brussels near the Bourse (stock market), an important location as a significant congregation lives nearby. It was built over 100 years ago when it once represented the great wealth and strong religiosity of the Belgians. It is now a bit sad, with its more spectacular features and statutary painted over or simply overlooked. The church's out-buildings, which could easily become valuable housing have been ignored to the point they are thoroughly disreputable.

In a sense, the condition of this church represents the state of the Roman Catholic Church in Belgium, where church attendance has fallen precipitously in the last half of the last century. Only about 7 percent of Belgians now claim to attend church weekly. It was over 60 percent in 1960. The clergy is shrinking, money is in short supply, congregates are getting older and fewer in number, and buildings are slowly decaying.

At the nation's formation the Church was a major land owner, wealthy and influential. In a stupendous land-grab in the 1800's, secular Belgium required the Church to sign over its substantial lands, churches, monasteries and seminaries to the state, and in return, the government promised to pay the priests and maintain the property. There is thus a state entity responsible for church repairs and for paying a stipend to the clergy. There is a process whereby Belgium officially recognizes religious faiths, and new arrivals are now claiming their share of the state's attention—and funding. And, like most government promises everywhere, there has been some hedging and fudging.

This is secular country with a history of strongly Catholic kings and political parties. (King Baudouin abdicated for a day to avoid signing legislation granting limited rights to abortion that conflicted with his strong Catholic faith. The legislation passed in his absence.) However, the Church's influence has been shaken by recent political losses. Public support for the Church has been diluted by damaging, and revisited, charges of molestation and pedophilia, and the State points to the drop-off in attendance to justify the shift in its attention to other budgetary and social issues.

The church Sunday was packed. A parallel was easily drawn to the Roman Catholic Church's strength in Hispanic countries. But, northern Europe has become predominantly humanist and no longer seems to be the Church's stronghold of faith and adherents. That's as it will be, but it's difficult to be ambivalent about the Church's decline when you consider its mixed history and incredible contributions to architecture.