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Strange Things Continue to Happen in the Alps more Frequently
by Urs Ruefli, Alpine Alien Agency, Lausanne
This morning, I had a highly interesting interview. I spoke to an eye witness, Mr Alois Hirnreiser. It was not easy due to his strong dialect. Thus I provide the original interview with the best translation I can offer.
AAA: Mr. Hirnreiser, please briefly describe your profession.
Mr. H: Sog Loisl zu mia wia olle andan a. I bin a Schuasta.
(Mr. H: Please call me Loisl, as all do. I work as a shoemaker.)
AAA: Herr Loisl, what happened on July 5, 2007?
Mr. H: Moanst jezd den arma daifa von dem I dia vorhin erzaed hob?
(Mr. H: Do you refer to the poor devil about whom I reported to you just before?)
AAA: Yes, Mr. Loisl.
Mr. H: Mei, i hobs ja schon gsogt: der hod dermassen verhaude fiass ghabt, sowas hob I no nie gseng. Ois voia bluad.
(Mr. H: As I already stated: he had terribly damaged feet, worse than any thing I have ever seen. All covered with blood.)
AAA: What was the reason for this?
Mr. H: Mei, I moan dea muas ueba vui berg glafa sei. Vo drei dog schaud koana so aus.
(Mr. H: I think he went over many mountains. That mess could not come from just a few days.
AAA: Can you describe him in more detail, please?
Mr. H: Mei, des woa a buildl von am mo. Aussa de fiass. De warn dermassen verhaud. Aba sonst. Mei, gros wie a bam, arm wia bea und koa gram fet.
(Mr. H: Well, he was like a picture of a man. Except his feet. Those were quite damaged. But otherwise he was tall as a tree, arms like a bear, and no gram of fat.
AAA: What did he want from you?
Mr. H: Mei, seine schua warn ganz schee verhaud. Wia seine fiass hoid a. I hobs erm hoid gricht. De schua moane. Via de fiass haeds an dogda brauchd.
(Mr. H: Well, his shoes were quite damaged. As his feet. I repaired them. I mean the shoes, not his feet. His feet were in need of a medical expert.
AAA: What happened to him after he left?
Mr. H: Mei, wia soi I des wissn. I moan, der hod ja kaum ge kenna. I hob dann da Resi, des is mei oide, gsogt: „Resi, do legst di nida, wie dem seine fiass ausschaun. Eha ged a Schwein ueba a hengebrügn ois der auf no an Berg aufi."
„Mr. H: How should I possibly know? He could hardly walk. I then told my dear wife Resi: "Resi, you might want to lie down, if you look at his feet. It is more likely that a pig will go over a swinging bridge than him walking up another mountain."
There is an interesting piece of information to add to this. Another eye witness observed that the bespoke person left the village the next morning. He was walking in a row after another person in a red raincoat. And, did you notice the reference to the pig in the context of the swinging bridge. I never mentioned pigs to Mr. Loisl. Can that be by accident? I don't think so!
