Tag: Europe

  • The Ponderer, Canillo, Andorra

    The Ponderer, Canillo, Andorra

    If you’ve been pondering a visit to the picturesque European microstate of Andorra, don’t put it off for another second. For there, high in the Pyranees mountains, rests the handsome and mysterious Ponderer, forever gazing out over the verdant valleys of this remote oasis.

    Mirador Roc del Quer is a tranquil viewpoint that sits hundreds of metres above the charming village of Canillo, and it’s here that The Ponderer can be found. A surveillance platform – which is surely one of mankind’s finest architectural triumphs – extends an awe-inspiring 12 metres from terra firma, providing and experience that won’t simply take your breath away, but which will make you question everything you know about the world.

    To stand upon this belvedere, gazing down in slack-jawed wonder as life trickles by hundreds, if not thousands, of metres below, is to truly find the meaning of life. The panorama is constantly evolving, challenging the observer as it transforms from the verdant greens and yellows of summer, towards the flamboyant whites and purples of winter. To share such a soul-defining moment with The Ponderer shall fill your heart to the point of bursting.

    The road to the summit, which meanders through captivating farms and traverses sheer mountain drops, is certainly daunting. Getting there, however, is not. Comfortable buses travel from the town to the top, and the cheery drivers are a highlight of any journey (hola, Luis!). A short walk up the hill is required after disembarking, with a stylish vendor selling refreshments in preparation for the epic encounter to come.

    After that, all there is to do is strap in and prepare for the feeling of soaring, unencumbered by the stresses of modern life, eons above the valley floor.

    The Ponderer was created by Miguel Ángel González and arrived in 2016. His stoic, yet melancholy personality simultaneously comforts visitors in their spiritual journey through this landlocked principality, and confronts them to step out of their comfort zone.

    Sí, he really is Andorra-ble!

    Intermission: The Ponderer (to the tune of The Wanderer by Dion DiMucci)

    Oh well he’s the type of guy who will never make you frown
    High above Canillo, looking down upon the town
    After seeing him and kissing him you’ll never be the same
    This shirtless, bronzed Andorran hunk is known by just one name
    They call him The Ponderer, yeah The Ponderer
    He’s big and brown and brown and brown and brown and brown!

    The Ponder years

    Joining me on my playdate with The Ponderer was my Mexican half-sister – and self-confessed Big Thing tragic – Bigella Fernandez Hernandez. Our moment of quiet reflection atop the mountain was, sadly, shattered by the arrival of a vulgar gang of lower-class Spaniards who, hooting and hollering, wasted no time posing for risque selfies with the poor Ponderer.

    Hopped up on cheap sangria, one particularly pompous playboy placed an ornate Flamenco cap upon The Ponderer’s proud head. Then, in a moment of madness, he reached betwixt the bars of the fence to snatch several coins that had been left as tribute to this God of the mountains.

    “Yo, chico, I need this dinero more than he does,” the thug smirked, slipping the change into his oversized shorts as his padres chuckled. “After all, holmes, this gringo isn’t worth the cinco Euros. Viva la raza!”

    I’ve had nary a violent urge since converting to Buddhism 15 years ago, but had to be held back by Bigella after witnessing this sicko robbing this most elegant and gregarious of Bigs.

    After taking a few minutes to return to my ‘happy place’, as my bhikku had directed me, I pointed the lout out to a group of hotblooded Catalan youths who sat, mouths agape, as I ran through his litany of misdemeanours. Once I’d finished, they put down their empanadas, tore off their shirts, and prepared for battle.

    “Stealing from Andorra’s notoriously underfunded National Parks is one thing,” the leader barked, “but dishonouring the work of Miguel Ángel González is simply going too far. We must defend the honour of Andorra!”

    Not wanting our serene afternoon spoiled, Bigella and I turned our backs to the impending violence. As we settled in at the cafe for a mocaccino and a sumptuous serving of tocino de cielo, the screams from below left us in no doubt that the thief’s debts had been repaid in full.

    It might take a long time to climb up the mountain to visit The Ponderer, but it only takes a few seconds to get back down – teehee!

  • Le Grand Velo, lac d’Annecy, France

    Le Grand Velo, Lac d'Annecy, France

    When I heard rumours of a giant bicycle rolling through the verdant hills of Lac d’Annecy, I contacted someone who knows a thing or two about riding around the Alps – former Tour de France champion Cadel Evans. ‘Cuddles’ is a self-confessed Big Thing tragic and became a professional cyclist to finance a trip to the Big Oyster, so he was only too happy to offer me a guided tour of Le Grand Vélo.

    However, we had a fairly aggressive altercation regarding the correct meal pairing for a bottle of Vin de Paille, so Cadel took his bike and went home. It’s a long ride back to Katherine, Cuddles!

    The joke was on me, though, because his replacement was the improbably-named Jean-Claude Van Ham, a journeyman cyclist whose greatest achievement was crashing into a horse during the second stage of the 1996 Tour.

    Despite this complete lack of success during his cycling career, Jean-Claude wouldn’t stop complaining about how he could have won Le Tour if it wasn’t for Neil Armstrong and his steroids. Jean-Claude’s soupe à l’oignon was too cold? Blame it on Neil. Jean-Claude’s mistress wasn’t answering his calls? She must be off with Neil, of course.

    There we were, admiring Le Gros Vélo as Mont Blanc reached for the sky above us, and Jean-Claude wouldn’t stop talking about Neil bloomin’ Armstrong. Everything was ‘Neil this’ and ‘Neil that’ and ‘Neil sent me into a deep depression from which there is no escape’. It was really putting a dampener on my day.

    I want to ride my bicycle, bicycle, bicycle

    “Honestly, Jean-Claude, give it a rest,” I finally snapped. “You live in the most beautiful place on Earth. You’re an extremely handsome man with a robust physique and deep blue eyes that one can’t help drowning within. Your calves are more like full-grown Blonde d’Aquitaine cows. And you have this delightful Big Thing, carved from the finest French timber, to marvel at every day. Are you even aware that it was constructed for the 10th stage of the 2018 Tour de France, which circumnavigated this very lake?

    “Sure, you lost a bike race – big deal, it happens. I lost Celebrity Big Brother 2014 to Meshel Laurie and you don’t see me crying about it all the time. I’m Australia’s darling, the inimitable Bigs Bardot, and this busy-body abused the power of social media to pluck victory from my well-manicured hands. Sure, I went on to win Celebrity Splash later that year. But the ratings were modest at best, and the rest of the cast largely forgettable.

    “I have my own Neil Armstrong, Jean-Claude, and her name is Meshel Laurie.”

    I want to ride my bicycle, bicycle (c’mon), bicycle

    “Oui, oui, you are correct,” Jean-Claude replied, turning his head in a futile attempt to hide the tears in his deep blue eyes. “You did deserve to win Celebrity Big Brother 2014. Meshel Laurie’s manipulation of the voting system was both, how you say? Egregious and indicative of the lack of government regulation of reality television voting processes in Australia. I have thrown away my life chasing the ghosts of my past, when I should be here admiring the Big Bicycle. Monsieur Bigs, how can I ever make it up to you?”

    “Just pretend to ride the bike with me for a photo, Jean-Claude. It’s the least you can do. And then you can pedal off and get your life together.”

    “Ah, la vache! It is fortunate you do not actually want to ride this bicycle,” sniffed Jean-Claude as the camera snapped, “because it wooden start!”
    “Mon ami,” I said as I embraced Jean-Claude warmly, “that’s the first sensible thing you’ve said all day. Let’s go get some reblochon and watch a Gérard Depardieu movie!”

    Jean-Claude proved to be the perfect guest, expertly pairing a spirited and honey-kissed 2011 Domaine Pignier Côtes du Jura Vin de Paille with a decadent slice of crème brûlée as we thrilled to the cinematic delights of Cyrano de Bergerac. After a tearful goodbye, Jean-Claude dragged himself atop his bicycle and proceeded to ride it straight into the nearest horse. Old habits die hard, I guess.