Wrong!
Today was a wandering Wednesday. Rick an I take days to explore Switzerland.
After dropping Sherlock off at Furry Friends where he can play with other dogs, we headed for Ste. Croix situated at the end of a very curvy road up a Jura mountain.
Our goal was the Centre International Méchanique d'Art (CIMA) in Sainte Croix, a village of 4800 people up a very curvy Jura mountain road.
We needed to eat first, but it was after 2 pm when most restaurants are closed. However the Café 12 was open until 3 pm. The two women owners were the only ones there. "You can eat, but all we have is the menu du jour."
We imagined something Swiss.
Nope.
Chilli con carne, and according to my husband with 20 years of Texas living and eating under his belt, really good. We told the chef sister and had a lovely chat as well.
Onto CIMA. Our guide was a retired Brit. Under small, small, small world, in the early 90s he edited the same magazine my husband has edited but several decades and owners earlier. The tour was in French, which my husband did fairly well to follow.
Not a tacky ballerina in sight. Instead was a workshop recreation. At one point the tiny village had 600 employees providing music boxes for a world audience long before the word globalization. The noise from its wires, pulleys, wheels must have led to deafness.
A drawer held circles of metal circles and cylinders with holes for the notes that played classical music. Metal strips the size of teeth in combs were put into a metal bar one by one, often using a tool held in the mouth. Each "tooth" was a note.
The boxes themselves varied in size including one that dwarfed the guide. It was started with an old British penny, itself an artifact.
Another had a complete village scene with painted figures sawing, walking, talking among buildings with streets.
The wooden boxes were decorated with designs on their highly polished surfaces.
The best are below. All work with music.
The acrobat starts from a standing position.
During the tune he does tricks. It is possible
to light the lamp on the desk of the clown.
Considering the age, I doubt the designer meant
to make a Melina Trump looking music box.
She writes, really writes, on a piece of paper.
Another box with a boy seated at a desk and
dressed in 18th century finery, not shown draws.
He produced a sketch of a man's head.
The little boy makes his breakfast.
What his grandmother's head is doing
in the well-stocked cupboard, I'm not sure.
"Get a photo for Llara," my husband said for
my daughter who does needlework.
The music box lady was knitting to a tune.
We had to leave before the end of the tour to pick up the dog, driving back down the curvy mountain road. Stay tuned for our next Tourist Tuesday or Wandering Wednesday. Who knows, including us, where we will be.
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