Fribourg: Vachement cool!

Directly translated, "vachement" means "cowly," yes, as in like a cow. It's simply math really. (Vache = cow) + (ment=ly). Eh voila! There you go! Now, I bet you're wondering... "Why would anyone ever want to use an adverb like that?" Good question. Vachement is actually one of those really awesome idiomatic expressions (or words) that does not translate directly at all. Ha, psych! It actually means "really" or "extremely" and probably originated from a different word with similar phonetics and not from any sort of agricultural meaning or implication* (though my research on this topic only lasted about five minutes via google).

Why the hell am I giving you a French lesson? you ask. Well, I found this word to be just too appropriate when thinking about how I would describe my day trip to Fribourg, a small medieval city about 45 minutes north of Lausanne. The city, often called the "city of bridges" as it was originally built along both sides the River Sarine, has quaint shops, touristy corners, a well-known and respected university, and plenty of small streets to roam aimlessly for the curious wanderer like myself. And no, I didn't see any really cool cows if you were wondering, though the region around Fribourg is pretty much dominated by farmland and, I'm sure, is dotted with plenty of cows.

However, on the train ride back to Lausanne while I was writing and thinking about how much I enjoyed my day trip to Fribourg, I was interrupted by the quick deceleration of the train and the conductor's voice over the intercom:

(Translated from French) "Excuse me ladies and gentlemen. It seems that we have encountered a problem. I am sorry to inform you but this train will be delayed by an indefinite period of time due to cows on the tracks. I apologize for any inconvenience and will give you more information as soon as it is available."

I busted up laughing at the image of two cows just lounging on the tracks, thinking to themselves, "Oh yeah dude. A train is coming. Sucks for them cause I'm not moving." Slowly turning to the approaching train, "So... what'd you gonna do about it, biatch?!"

"Bahaha. Hey, I have an idea," replied the second cow, smirking at his own brilliant thought. "How 'bout we just lay here and pretend like we don't see 'em at all, just to see what they do."

"Sweet man, I'm down. Any sign of the cops though and I'm booking it. Remember those tazors they used once? Yeah, not cool. Not cool at all."

Laughing at the scene playing out in my head, I looked up to see the reaction of the old man sitting across from me, or rather, his utter lack of reaction to the news. Nothing. His eyes didn't flicker from the newspaper spread out in front of him. And I thought, a) either he is completely deaf and did not hear the announcement, or b) this happens all the time and he doesn't give a shit since he's used to such cow crossings (or not crossing in this situation). I'm going with (b), though (a) may have very well been possible.

What happened then? The train was delayed by 30 minutes and it may have been longer had the police not shown up and "escorted" the cows off the tracks. No, I'm not kidding.

So then, Fribourg, I was impressed by the architecture, bridges, and the scattered spots to sit and lounge along the river. And the cows? Nice touch. Vachement cool, I say!

View from the first bridge crossing into Old Town. The newer, cosmopolitan part of the city is built up on a hill while the Old Town is down below next to the river.

A small bridge on the edge of town. That little grassy patch you see in the corner, my picnic spot. Thank you thank you thank you sunshine!

And another bridge, definitely my favorite. It's hard to tell in the photo, but it was lined with boxes of red geraniums on both sides.

View from the top of the Cathedral of Saint-Nicholas, completed in the 15th century. You can see the tower I climbed in the top left hand corner of the first photo. I entered the church and bought a ticket to climb the hundred and something steps (I lost count) to the top. And I have something to admit. I lied. In a church. When the saintly looking girl asked me if I was a student, I said yes to save one franc. Father, please forgive me.

*Ref: http://www.transparent.com/newsletter/french/2000/feb_00.htm