A selection of photos from our first week, Part II

Freddy Mercury greets visitors on the quai in Montreux.




















Lac Leman (Lake Geneva) surrounded by the Alps.















Tomitha, our wonderful WKU helper.
















Savoring the authentic Swiss fondue we made in the hostel kitchen.

A selection of photos from our first week.

Caitlin gives a presentation on "An Alpine Symphony", by Richard Strauss.



















Abby enjoying the music.
















Abby, Becky, Mary, and Allison listen attentively to Caitlin's presentation.

Alpenglow - the view from the deck of our hostel, Chalet Martin, on a clear evening.

Swiss order - a perfect woodpile ready for next winter in Gryon.

It Was a Dark and Stormy Night...er Day

Yesterday we went to the castle of Chillon where Byron got the inspiration to write The Prisoner of Chillon, a poem about Bonivard who was locked in Chillon for six years. Unexpectedly, it was raining yesterday, which we found irritating at first; however, it helped to lend an eerie mood to the dungeons where so many were tortured and executed for real and imaginary crimes. It has seen true criminals, along with accused witches and heretics. It served as a place of execution to the Jews during the Bubonic plague and a place for those such as Bonivard who simply irritated the wrong person in power.

In the poem, Bonivard and two of his brothers, both of them younger than him, are chained to separate pillars, unable to move or to see each other. The only way they are keeping hope is by telling each other stories, though even these eventually run out, leaving them in a sense of hopelessness. As a result, Bonivard's brothers both die leaving Bonivard with no family left in the world and no care for life. On an upside, in an attempt to get to his dying brother he managed to break his chains, leaving him with the freedom to move around. Pacing his prison, he left a path in the floor. Visiting the dungeons, I saw the seven pillars, but I did not see any path he had worn. There was, however, Byron's signature on one of the columns.

What I most liked about the poem was the last stanza, where Bonivard is rescued. I don't like it because he is rescued; I like it because he no longer wants to be. He has been in this place for so long that he is comfortable here (though not literally...The entire place is stone, and it isn't smooth stone.) He says in the poem, "half I felt as they were come/ to tear me from a second home." It says a lot about the human mind that even a dungeon like that in Chillon can become something of a home when one is there long enough. The place is extremely gloomy and depressing, but in a way beautiful. It is of stone, and thus unlikely to change willingly. When everything is going wrong, a sense of constancy can be wonderful. The dungeon Bonivard lived in, and the mountains he stared at are both something seemingly unchanging which may have been a comfort.

Silence of the Mountains

Due to minor injuries and shoddy internet access I have just now recovered enough to tell you about the Solalex Death March. (In other words...I have been procrastinating.) Last week we went for an eight hour hike (there and back). The hike was straight uphill the whole way to the top, which is why I refer to it as a death march. We took this hike in light of reading Ramuz's "When the Mountain Fell." It was interesting to see where the story took place and do all of the walking that the people had to do as they lived a long time before the invention of cars and trains. Feeling like you're walking in someone else's shoes has a way of putting things in perspective. While we were hiking I kept thinking about what it must have been like for the people who had to climb up and down the mountain day after day. I thought it was horrible just climbing it once; I can't imagine what it would be like to make that journey all the time. Though I am beginning to get a feel for it having to trek up and down from Chalet Martin almost everyday. It was amazing getting to see Anzeindaz and Derborence, where Ramuz's story was set. Getting to see the location made me appreciate the story that much more because it helped me see everything in a whole new light. I now know what it was like for Justin and Dsozet (characters in the story) running back and forth, up and down the mountain. Not an easy journey, let me tell you.

My favorite passage from "When the Mountain Fell" is the one about silence in the first chapter. "around the two men there slowly grew a strange thing, inhuman, and in the end unbearable--Silence." There is a lot more to this passage but this line sums it up well. Hiking through the mountains, silence is very evident. If not for the group of us there would have been complete silence except for the occassional rush of the river. Being in a large group we gave life to the mountains again though only temporarily. As Ramuz also said, "Life begins again because of the living sounds." This statement holds such truth. Living sounds really do make the world go round. Without living things everything else seems to be lifeless and gloomy. It is the noise of people and animals and rushing water et cetera that give apparently lifeless objects life again. When the mountain fell in Derborance and killed all those people it took away the sounds, but when a survivor came forth life began again because of his sound. Though there was temporary loss and silence because of it, the living sounds brought everyone back to life again after the mountain fell. In the same way we brought a little bit of life to the mountain the day we took our death march. There were temporary moments of silence during the hike, but life resumed again as the sound of our voices rang through the mountainside.

Adjusted Realities of a Hopeless Romantic...

We literally breathe in literary history and sublimity in our continued exploration (and conquest) of Switzerland. The weary wayfarers of our group were tired, and rightly so, after a hike that took us from Solalex to Derborence. The grey fog clouded our visibility; only the silhouettes of the person in front of you could be seen like ghosts dancing in the mist. In the half-light of the mountains, the grey fog that had adamantly chased us up from Solalex finally lifted to reveal the majestic peaks that blanketed us. But every rose has its thorn; the beauty of the steep trails provided dangers to my fellow traveler, Cailtin, who stumbled in a particularly muddy area. The incident echoed the ideas of Ramuz—floating back into our periphery and reminding us of the mountain’s treachery. Through sweat and blood our journey ended that evening with the taste of victory triumphing over the dryness.

Saturday brought us a different adventure, however. As we boarded the train from Gryon, I could hardly anticipate the scenic train ride, the open-air market of Vevey, and the crystal waters of Lake Geneva. We soon arrived in Vevey, but behind the pale hues of the aged architecture, the town took almost a tangible form. Strolling on the waterfront, I could see why Charlie Chaplin (and a plethora of others) would spend a portion of his life here. His statue stood overlooking the lake, and I could only think what a view for this inanimate object to view everyday: the sailboats dancing and the mountains rising out of Lac Leman. In front of us, the pale shutters and the three crown insignia of Hôtel des Trois Couronnes filled our eyes and our minds. And suddenly through the streets a parade of bicyclers dressed in aged clothing strolled the streets, and I could only gain a nostalgia of something fiction; I could see Daisy Miller and Monsieur Winterbourne strolling in the warm Swiss nights around the town. I’m not sure how or why the Millers' would ever depart from Vevey, especially the grandeur of the hotel.

As we walked through the foyer, we tiptoed through the bar to the outside of the patio for drinks. Lake Geneva sat silent in front of us, as if it were posing for a picture. Despite the price tag, a whiskey sour in the Swiss breeze was as close to nirvana as I may ever come.

After our adventures in Vevey, we took the lake boat across the way to Montreaux, the home of the famous Montreaux Jazz Festival. The view of The Palace Hotel was a sharp contrast from the conservative shutters of Hôtel des Trois Couronnes. The bright yellow of the shutters almost personified the melodies that have haunted the town for years. I could almost hear B.B. King’s soulful voice while sliding Lucille’s strings in his shockingly bright attire. Fittingly, a statue of Freddie Mercury found its home near the waterfront. Caroline, Caitlin, Jay, and I ventured further into the town and enjoyed a large Feldschlösschen at the Adams Café. As we waited for our train to depart, the feeling of literary nostalgia overtook me once again. As Montreaux sloped above us, I could almost see a place where I imagined Catherine and Henry, from A Farewell to Arms, were holding each other hidden from the world and the war that raged outside.

And in the Montreaux evening, as the train loudly came into the station, I could only remember Hemingway’s words, “The world is a fine place and worth fighting for.” It most certainly is what I reflect to myself now as I sit in the rustic living room of Chalet Martin with the window open, listening to the sounds of a Brazilian and a Brit, one playing the ukulele and one playing the guitar.

Through Hail and Back...

Just a word of advice, the weather conditions at the bottom of a mountain are often the polar opposite of the conditions at the top (and "polar" is to be read in both senses). After awakening to a beautiful morning at the chalet and confidently adorning myself with a thermal long-sleeve shirt and cargo shorts, I made my way with the group to the train. Little did we know, the impending day-long hike would take us through nearly every natural phenomenon known to man.

The night before our epic journey, we discussed Ramuz's When the Mountain Fell. I'll avoid any plot synopses, but I will point out that the original title of the novel was Derborence. Incidentally, that's where we were to hike to and actually see the "mountain that fell."

From Solalex, we were to hike to Derborence, which is a bit of a haul (Google it). As fate may have it, the thickest fog I've ever witnessed rolled in. As we trudged up the mountain, we readily snapped photos of the beautiful surroundings within a 20-yard radius of our path. The fog would lift momentarily throughout the hike and display the hidden grandeur that was actually surrounding us, but for the majority of our march, it remained a virtually unseen looming presence.

The turning point of our hike arrived with fury. As we all rested to enjoy our sandwiches and fruit, the Alps decided to dump a mixture of hail and freezing rain on us. Several hours away from the base and now battling the forces of nature, we began our trip back. Our pace back down the mountain ultimately turned into a slight trot. Within minutes, the hail stopped, the fog lifted, and the sun came out (again, with fury). My shirt, once drenched in freezing rain, now became deeply moistened with sweat. I must relate that we did make it back safe and sound with many stories to tell.

Allison is officially "On top of the world!!"

Hello, I'm Allison, a sophomore at WKU. I am not the best of bloggers but here is my first go at it. When I first arrived I hadn't yet realized that I was in one of the most beautiful places in the world; a situation most likely because I was experiencing delirium from my first flight over 30 minutes (which happened to be about eight hours). Each moment this adventure becomes more real and awe-inspiring. Looking outside at any moment reassures me of the blessing of this trip. We are relatively isolated on this mountain and at first it was shockingly bothersome but as the trip progresses I become more thankful and recognize it as refreshing. Yesterday we went on a hike beginning at the village Solalex up to the summer pastures of the old Deborence. The hike wash pretty difficult and in the beginning I was NOT appreciative. As I felt comfortable enough to look up from the rocks at my feet I realized that I could not have seen a more beautiful combination of fog, stream, trees, and flowers. As if the environment were mysterious enough, the fog hid much of the surroundings, only revealing clues of the beauty that lie behind white walls. I could attempt to explain to you what all I saw that day but I feel the best way to describe it is by it's effect on me. I have never been so sure of my faith. No one on earth could ever imagine something as beautiful as what I have seen, therefore there has to be something bigger than the human mind (in my opinion). Having read Heidi, I now understand why she was so heartbroken to be away from home. I am currently being spoiled by the fresh moutain air and the marvelous tasting water (straight from the stream). All of the imperfections here make the everything that much more perfect. ALthough I technically reside in the middle of a high peak in Caton of Vaud I feel like I am on top of the world.

Alpine Sublime

An introduction is hard to conquer, but I will try my hand at the hardest task—introducing myself. A chemistry student displaced in the grandness of this study abroad based on the literature of the Swiss Alps, I feel each moment in this country allows me a greater command and adequacy in the understanding and appreciation of each word that I read.

As I viewed the Alps from Chalet Martin, I realized how small human nature is compared to the vast expanse of nature. This appreciation, homage worthy to the Romantics, allows the shapes and forms of the scenery to rise above their physical peak to a transcended state in my mind. After exploring Gryon today, I realized how the beauty (and neutrality of this country) provides a prominent theme for many authors.

As the days ahead in waiting offer only more excitement and exploration, an adventurer, like myself, relishes the chance to climb higher in the physical realm and mental understanding of the Vaud Country and myself.

The Fellowship of the Cow Bell

This post will include what so many of my fellow classmates have already so beautifully articulated: the death march up Deborence on Thursday. The reason we went to this lovely mountain is because it is the mountain that fell in one of the novels we read called ''When the Mountain Fell''. Clever title, I know.

It began as so many hikes do: uphill. We were all full of anticipation and suspense at the idea of triumphantly reaching the top. But little did we know that the journey would be fraught with fog, rain, snow, hail, cows and goats. Nevertheless, we lifted our rubber soled shoes and took those first few steps of our journey. We were The Fellowship of the Cow Bell.

The hike up the mountain took, roughly, 4 hours. At first the weather seemed sublime, a little sun, slight breeze, all we needed was a light jacket. We climbed rocks like spider monkeys (except for Kyle who was more like a winded gorilla). There were waterfalls and streams which had the best tasting water. It was like drinking liquid heaven or something. That's right, I did drink water from a stream in the Swiss Alps :) And the meadows! It was straight out of The Sound of Music! I even did the Maria and twirled around singing ''The hills are alive with the sound of music!!!'' and Caroline yodeled. It was pretty fantastic. But alas! The perfection was not to last. The fog that literally chased us up the mountain should've been a dead give away. It was constantly threatening to consume us. But like I said, the first two hours were pretty sublime. We were spider monkeys. Rock spider monkeys.

About 3/4 of the way up we stopped at this small village (as in 4-5 houses small). One of the men there has a cafe stop so we all got hot chocolate and warmed our feet which were soaking wet and numb. There were a ton of goats and cows in this village. All with bells around there necks (I'm currently trying to find out how terribly illegal it would be to steal one ;) ) From here it took two more hours to reach the pass, and the trip was both amazing and terrible. The fog intensified to the point where you couldn't see 20 ft in front of you. We played Marco Polo to keep track of each other.

I took hundreds of photos. The valleys are covered in a carpet of wildflowers; daisies, lilacs, lavendar...it was essentially my wedding bouquet still in the ground. The grass here is softer than at home (Louisville, Ky). It's everything I've ever dreamed of. Secluded, serene, wild, inspiring...it's just perfect. When I say the mountains are secluded I mean secluded. No sign of people for miles and entirely too easy to get lost. Especially, in the fog. There were times when we couldn't even see each other. It's frightening, and yet there's a beauty in the isolation. In feeling so small. The Alps make you appreciate how large the world is. We're all small dots on a map covered with so many other dots besides ours. Some dots bigger than us. Like the Alps.

In class we are constantly discussing the deception that is Switzerland, or nature in general. It appears to be the most beautiful, serene, calm, quaint place in the world but the mountains are dangerous. As we said so many times on that hike of death: ''Mountains, you win again!!!'

The whole hike truly reminded me of The Lord of the Rings. We truly were a fellowship on a journey. The theme song kept playing in my head from the first movie (To pass time we quoted a lot of movies and songs, including many lines from The Lord of the Rings). Needless to say though, we were ready to go by the end of those 4 hours. We got to the top, saw where the mountain fell and were all ready to go.

This is where is began hailing. Miserable could describe the physical part of returning to civilization. All our shirts were soaked, many also wearing shorts and no jackets. Ours fingers numb and toes soaking we trekked back down. The sun eventually did come back and apart from the episodes of being delirious we we're unharmed (except for Caitlin. But we gave her the Purple Heart so it's all good). And now we can officially say we've experienced virtually every season in 7 hours.

Upon exiting the treeline of the mountain we ran into a herd of cattle, their cow bells tinkling a single melody through the air. Yet, even though we made it through the wilderness, and literally through hail and back, nature proved once again that she always wins. It's the ideal vs. reality. In When the Mountain Fell there's a constant sense of fear and respect for the mountain. Even though man does triumph at the end of the novel (Antoine lives after being buried), in real life it is so often the opposite. We can attempt to control, to predict, nature but we can never truly run from her. We are really such a small part of this world we live in. I think that hike really made that evident.

I'm going to end this ridiculously long post with a quote from Wilhelm Tell (another piece we're studying:

''Undaunted he ventures,

No blossom he sees

On bleak fields of ice,

No green friendly trees;

And down far below him the endless cloud

Will cover his home in a grey ghostly shroud.

Till suddenly parting

A glimpse it will yield

Deep, deep as in water

Faint green of a field.

Au revoir!

B

Swiss Cheese

Bonjour! My name is Caroline Wells. I hail from Glasgow, KY and am a senior at WKU. Although my major is Chemistry (pre-pharmacy) I have had Professor Davies for two English classes now and have been trying to join him on this Switzerland trip for two years! The moment has finally arrived.

We are staying in a chalet/hostel in the quaint village of Gryon in the Alps. The view is “pastoral” and “sublime” as we like to call it. The people are also very accommodating considering everyone here speaks French and I can barely say yes or no in the language. My first thought was that this will be a very relaxing, scenic trip. Scenic is definitely correct, but yesterday we hiked a mountain called the Little Devil. As the name implies, it was a devil!! Once we reached the top (most of us wearing shorts) it began to rain and hail on us! I suppose the feeling of accomplishment overcame the physical numbness of the rest of my body.

Having already conquered a mountain, I am anxious to see what else this trip has in store for the group. My greatest passion is traveling and to be able to travel while learning in depth about the location is absolutely amazing! ‘Til next time….

Luke's Introductory Post

Hello to all who are currently reading this blog! My name is Luke Yap, and I’m a sixteen-year-old boy who’s currently attending the Gatton Academy. I heard of the Switzerland Study Abroad Program when Dr. Davies presented to our English 200 class past experiences he had while hosting the program. I decided to apply for the study abroad program because the landscape looked beautiful, the food had great reviews, and it was an opportunity to improve my writing skills. So far, I have not been disappointed.

Yesterday, we hiked up a mountain known as “Deborence”. For part of our coursework, we were required to read a novel called When The Mountain Fell about when part of Deborence fell. While hiking up the mountain, it was hard to believe an area so beautiful would be so destructive, but I soon changed my mind.

While climbing up a rock along the path leading to the peak of Deborence, my left leg grazed a group of flowers. Soon, I had broken out into hives. After reaching the peak of Deborence, the weather turned from cool and calm to freezing and hailing. When we had finally returned to the hostile, I was itchy, freezing, and wet. As they say in the game of Dungeons & Dragons, the mountain had a chaotic neutrality.

Wish You Were Here

As a writer I should not have writer's block at this moment. Being in Switzerland is giving me writer's block currently because I am completely awestruck by this beautiful country. A little about me though.... I am a junior at Western Kentucky University majoring in creative writing and minoring in library media education. I am an aspiring librarian and plan to go to graduate school after graduation to continue my studies of LME. I have always dreamed of traveling abroad and am quite grateful for this opportunity. Seeing this gorgeous landscape has already given me a much greater appreciation for literature. Typically I prefer my creative writing classes over literature; however, if I could always study literature on location I'm pretty sure I would give up my writing major in a heartbeat. That or I would at least start double majoring. Though I have only been here for a few days Switzerland already feels like home. I have not traveled far from our home base, but I cannot wait to see what the surrounding country has to offer.

Blogging with Becky

Hello everyone!

This is supposed to be an introduction post but, to be honest, I am not quite sure how to introduce myself to you. The generic info would be that I am a double major in Creative Writing and Psychology, 5'8'', a rising sophomore at the illustrious WKU and this is my first experience in the European world (and let me tell you, it is awesome!). Past the generic, I suppose you should know a bit more about my quirky personality.

I get excited over the simple things. Such as the handknit socks sold in a quaint shop here in Gryon. Or the confidence I gain everyday in speaking French (a language I am slowly learning and am continually butchering the pronunciation of). Today, I mastered oú est (where is?). I was very proud.

My camera has been in constant use since our arrival, the result of which I hope to share soon when I get to upload pictures. I have never been in a more inspiring environment. The Alps are...everything. Beautiful and impossible, breathtaking (literally, my asthma kicks in heavily here) and words cannot give the mountains proper justice, but hopefully with my pictures you can get a glimpse of what we are experiencing everyday here. This is only my second day and already I am contemplating moving here with the mountains surrounding me. And the goats.

I'll try to blog as much as possible, I promise, but the internet is a bit unpredictable. So Mom, don't fret if you don't get an email from me. I'm alive, I swear. Switzerland is perfect for a writer. Inspiration is abundant and my words be a flowin'. Perhaps, I should move here simply for writing's sake :)

I hope everyone enjoys reading what I have to say, or at least stalking my pictures. Wish all I love could be here with me.

A bientot! (Till next time!)

Becky

P.S.

They weren't lying. Swiss cheese and chocolate is insanely delicious and therefore addicting.

Hello World

Hi, my name is Mary Boothe. I am currently a junior at WKU, where I am studying for a double major in English and Branding with a marketing minor. I have been overseas twice before this adventure, once in high school with my choir, and the past fall semester, which I spent at Harlaxton Manor in Grantham, England.
So far, we have been in Switzerland for three days, and it has been amazing!! The food is delicious and the landscape is beautiful. We are staying in Gryon, where we are lucky enough to have the whole attic of the hostel to ourselves. I am really loving my time here.

Mary Boothe

Hi

Hello, random people reading this blog. My name is Alexandra DeCarlo, and as you can probably tell, I am in Switzerland for a study abroad English Literature class. I am a Gatton Academy rising senior and love exploring, so this is a lot of fun. I am not and English major (or going to be such), but I love reading. I also enjoy hiking. Mostly I just hike at Cumberland Falls, which is close to my home town of London, Kentucky. Today we did real hiking up a mountain. I was beautiful, at least in the beginning. We were hiking up and climbing on tall rocks off the path. Unfortunately, it soon started to mist over. It got the point that the people behind me seemed to disappear into the mist, like something from a horror movie. This was fairly effiective, because we were visiting the area we studied in the novel Where the Mountain Fell. This is based on a time when part of the mountain fell, killing all of the people in that area.

In all, the way up took around four hours, including a short break for hot chocolate and for food. The way back took around two hours, and we took the road down. When we started back, it started to hail. This irritated all of us. Everyone was cold and wet, and most of us were wearing shorts. This lasted a very short period. The mist continued on for a while before it too disappeared to leave us to travel in the sun and take off our coats. Over all, it was a wonderful experience, and I was able to take a lot of pictures, some of which will be posted eventually.

So far, one of the main things I have noticed here is how clean Switzerland is. There is no trash littering the railways or streets. Even the construction areas are in their own place, not spreading everywhere. There are fountains located all over, and you can drink out of them. A picture will be posted later. Because Switzerland is very clean, people have to keep it that way, in such ways as not wearing outdoor shoes into the house and keeping things organized.

French is the main language spoken here, so I don't really understand what is being said. Also, something cool about the particular area(Gryon) we are staying is that everything closes from 12 to 2:30 so everyone can go to their homes for lunch. Food here is fairly expensive, so eating out is not something I would do here. Mostly we just cook and eat what we but at the grocery store. It is simpler food, but delicious.

Caitlin's Corner

I'm from Bowling Green, Kentucky, born and raised. I'm majoring in Health Care Administration. I love to dance and sing. I've fallen in love with poetry since ENG 200, and I can't wait to start reading poetry that relates to places we go in Switzerland. This is my first time to Europe, and I really could not be more excited! Switzerland is so beautiful and very picturesque!

My first impression of Gryon was that it reminded me of Beauty and the Beast. I kept waiting for people to break out into the first song from the movie. It is a very little town and a quiet village. We walked around today and did not see many people, but the people we did see were very friendly and welcoming. The Mountains are very inspiring to me; they are sublime.

This should be an eye-opening experience for me. I've already been shocked by the amount of people who do not speak English. Going to lunch today was difficult because I assumed the waitress did not speak English. I then, luckily, learned that she did speak English. I brought along with me a small French language book to help us out along the way and it has been very helpful. I am most excited about actually visiting the places I've read about in our books.

Why you should care about what I say...

As the token Graduate Student on this trip, I am the oldest student here. Also, strangely enough, standing at a towering 5'9, I happen to be one of the tallest on the trip.

As I stated earlier, I am a grad student of English Literature. The upcoming fall semester will be the beginning of my second full year at WKU. Studying Romantic Literature with Dr. Davies this past semester primes me for the subject matter we will be reading over. We will read poems and other works while admiring the same stimuli as Shelley, Byron, Coleridge, and Wordsworth were admiring. I'm judging from the scenery we have already enjoyed during the first two days that these next few weeks will be absolutely incredible.

We are some of the luckiest individuals attending WKU right now. The purpose of this blog, while being the main part of our grade, is largely for the readers. For those of you who thoroughly enjoy what Switzerland and Romanticism is about, you will more than likely highly enjoy these blog entries.

Why you should care about what I say

The First Post

Greetings from the program leader. It is the night before our Swiss adventure begins, and I'd like to inaugurate this blog with a few words of introduction. I welcome first, of course, the other blog authors, the program participants, who will be using the blog to post their thoughts and responses to the literature we read and the sites we visit. This will be a particularly literary view of Switzerland, filtered through our readings of Rousseau, Schiller, Wordsworth, Byron, the Shelleys, and others. It will also be an academic blog, with commentaries written for credit toward a course grade. And, finally, it will be a way for all of us to communicate with family and friends who want to follow our adventures. We promise to post some beautiful pictures of Alpine sublimity, and whatever else catches our eye. So we welcome our followers, and hope you enjoy our postings.

On a personal note: for my wife and me a return to Switzerland is always a special delight. We met in the small village of Huemoz, just a few miles away from Gryon, in 1975. Four years later we were married in the village church of San Saphorin, on the banks of Lac Leman. Since then we have been able to return periodically to those familiar locations. My study of Romanticism and Alpine literature is inextricably interwoven with our personal romance in Switzerland. We are looking forward to being there once again, and sharing our beloved Alps with this new group of students.