#57. Les Diablerets, Switzerland: June 28, 2025

I had known Gaby Escudero and Steve Sosler since the early 1990s, when both were getting their MPH at Tulane. Following their wedding in New Orleans in 1996, they lived in Madasgar for three years. Steve returned to Tulane to get his PhD, and Gaby worked as my assistant on the Measure Evaluation (family planning) Project.

I first "met" Gaby when she telephoned me early one January after work hours. She was a new student at Tulane, arriving off-cycle for the academic year, wondering if I would be her faculty advisor. Feeling that my plate was already overflowing, I was on the verge of saying "no" when she mentioned that she was fluent in 4.5 languages. My answer changed to an immediate yes. Gaby and I had remained in touch over the years, since she continued to work on other USAID-funded family planning projects (including in the DRC). With their daughters, Gaby and Steve lived in Cameroon, Gabon, and India before settling in Geneva, where they’ve been for the last 13 years. Gaby's position fell victim to the demise of USAID in early 2025; fortunately, Steve still held onto his job at GAVI (the Global Vaccine Alliance).

Realizing how close Geneva was to Chamonix (one hour 15 minutes by bus), I contacted Gaby in spring 2025 to ask if her open invitation to stop in Geneva would be valid for the last weekend of June. Happily, it was, and she encouraged me too stay at their spacious house in Commugny, a suburb of Geneva. Some years earlier, the three of us had taken a spectacular hike through the French Jura, and I was hoping to repeat such an excursion while I was there. This time we’d have one more hiker: Topi (short for Utopia), a two-year old White Swiss Shepherd.

Switzerland has an endless array of hiking options. When Gaby asked what I had in mind, I replied, "A moderate hike, about 4-5 hours, with cowbells if possible." Some 30 years earlier, Bill and I had hiked on the slopes overlooking Lac Leman with our two kids, 9 and 7 years old, and my most salient memory from the day was the jingle of the cowbells as we strolled through vast slanting cow pastures.

On the morning after my arrival in Geneva, we collected our gear for the excursion. Since it was the fourth hike in eight days, I had the routine down pat.  Topi appeared wearing a pink bandanna around her neck that created a colorful contrast against her lush white fur. She sensed that something fun was going to happen, appropriate since it was her second birthday.

We set out for les Diablerets, moving east along the highway above Lac Leman. At the village of Aigle, we bought lunch at the local patisserie, then ascended the mountainside along a very twisty road. The pressing question: would Topi get carsick. (Fortunately, the answer was no.)

With the help of AllTrails and Steve's Swiss hiking app, we settled on the Tour de la Palette. The trailhead started from the parking lot of the Glacier 3000, a cable car that for 45 euros would transport one to a station 3000 meters high, with exceptional views of the Matterhorn, Mont Blanc, and Jungfrau. Having downloaded the map on our respective apps, we set out for what promised to be a 5-mile four-hour hike with 1500 feet of elevation gain. The first 20 minutes was by far the most strenuous, as we made our way up a steep forested trail that came out at the Lac Retaud restaurant. Given the number of cow pies on the trail, those cowbells couldn't be far away.

We emerged from the wooded area and continued along a series of paths that looped upward through this mountainous area. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The sun shone brightly but at that altitude and with an occasional breeze, it was comfortable. One halfway expected Julie Andrews to burst onto the scene with a throaty rendition of “the hills are alive with the sound of music.“

Topi liked to be in the lead, but as a shepherd, she had a strong herding instinct. She’d become very agitated if Steve or Gaby were not in her immediate line of vision. At one point, Steve and Topi turned the corner that put them behind a hill. Seconds later, Topi bolted back to make sure that Gaby and I were following.

I need not have worried for a lack of cows. As we reached the highest point on the trail and began to descend gently, we could hear the cacophony of cowbells in the distance, traceable to a herd of some 100 cows in the field below. We watched with interest as half of them were herded up a dirt road in caravan formation, protesting loudly, with one vehicle leading the procession and two more bringing up the rear. The handlers - two men and a woman - tried valiantly to corral the occasional rebellious cow that wandered off-route in search for some tasty grass. "Whop, whop" we heard in the distance, over the deafening sound of the cowbells.

An equal number of cows were left below, munching on the plentiful grass in the warmth of the midday sun. Our only concern was Topi, who was fearful of any loud noises. Fortunately, the procession of cows had moved far away from us, sparing us of any direct interaction, though our trail took us directly through the herd that was left behind. Steve shortened Topi‘s leash and talked to her through this encounter, even stopping to stroke the head of one of the cows that crossed the trail.

Coming upon the Chalet d'Isenau was one of the high points of the excursion. One side of the Chalet offered a welcome chance to get out of the sun and enjoy a cold drink, on sale self-serve for 3.5 euros. (Who in Switzerland would ever violate the honor system?)

On the other was a fromagerie, a cheese production operation with large vats visible in the middle of a dark, dank room. Cheese could be seen ripening in the corner. The owner cut large slabs off another round to the specifications of each customer and weighed them to determine the price.  Gaby surmised that it was some variation of tomme.

We held off having lunch for another 45 minutes, by which time we’d returned to Lac Retaud. Several swimmers were stroking their way through the pond, as someone else crossed on a paddle board. In contrast to the crystal clear water in so many Swiss lakes, the greenish brown tinge to the water kept me on dry land. Not so Topi, who happily plunged in to retrieve the sticks that Steve threw out from the shore. A bench in the shade of a tree provided the perfect picnic spot to enjoy the delicious sandwiches we'd purchased in the village of Aigle.

The final stretch was the 20 minutes of fairly steep trail, crisscrossed by roots and an occasional mud puddle. We were back at our car five hours after we started.  Steve and Gaby worried that the hike had been “too short,“ but in my estimation, it was pretty darn perfect. They had delivered in spades on cowbells. If there was any blemish to the day, it was the traffic congestion on the way home, due to an accident along the route. But who was I to complain? I slept through most of it.

To cool off at the end of the day, we wandered down to Lac Leman where we all went in for a swim. Topi was by far the most enthusiastic swimmer and ball retriever, making her presence known by shaking on everyone as she got out of the water. Steve and Gaby alternated keeping her under control, as she ran along the rocks on the shoreline.

The final day in Switzerland was lagniappe for recreation, good friends, and good food. It included a return to Lac Leman for a swim in the morning, this time in a different location (la plage), followed by two memorable meals at lunch and dinner.

Gaby located the train that would take me from Coppet to the town of Pully, some 50 minutes away. I navigated the transfer at the Lausanne train station (with five minutes to change platforms) and arrived in time for lunch on the terrace of our Swiss friends Leo and Raymonde Cordey. We had stayed in the third floor apartment of their house in 1991 and 1992 with our kids and Candelaria and shared many a meal on the same terrace over 30 years ago. Their daughter Emmanuelle had spent the better part of a year in New Orleans in the 1990s. I caught up on the news of Emmanuelle, her husband Pierre, and their two daughters who were also present, Axelle and Gaelle, ages 22 and 18. We’ve feted their son Samuel‘s 53rd birthday and discussed plans of Axelle to visit us in the US in connection with her English training. I then retraced my steps from Pully via Lausanne to the train station in Coppet, where Gaby picked me up at the exact time expected. After all, these were Swiss trains.

On the final evening in Switzerland, we were joined by Erin Eckert, a former student (MPH, '93; PhD, '97) and colleague of some 30 years, who had overlapped with Gaby and Steve at Tulane. After catching up on the news of all our mutual friends, we began trying to remember every student who had studied family planning at Tulane and gone on to work in the field of international family planning. Total count: 47.

All good things must come to an end. Gaby dropped me off at the Geneva airport (15 miles from their house). It had been an amazing three days in Switzerland, not to mention the two days in Netherlands and 3.5 in France.  I felt tremendously grateful to my friends in Europe who had facilitated these excursions, to Bill and Jose Luis for keeping vigil on Candelaria back in New Orleans, and for the near complete recovery of my knee. I knew I was living right when I got upgraded to the last seat in Delta's first class for the flight back to the United States.

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