I have never lived anywhere that makes travel as easy as it is in Switzerland. Trams and trains run exactly on time and according to schedule, so that you never need to budget extra time to get to the airport, you know exactly which tram to catch to make it to the train station in time to catch the train that will get you to the airport in time. And you only have to get to the airport about 40 minutes before your flight takes off, even though you have to go through passport control and security. If you already checked in the night before, either at the train station or at the airport, you can show up 25 minutes before your international flight, and still make it on the plane in time. This past weekend, I took another trip out to Ireland, and I left the office 85 minutes before my flight, caught a tram and then a train, and that got me to the airport 50 minutes before my flight, giving me plenty of time to stop and pick up some stuff in duty-free, get a snack, and then sit and wait for my flight to be called.
Ireland was loads of fun. I got in a bit before midnight on Friday night, and after dropping by my friend’s house to leave my bag, say hi to his dad, and give his dad the wheel of Swiss-made sheep’s milk cheese (I only realized after getting on the plane that it was sort of an odd gift, but my friend had suggested it, telling me that his parents love cheese, which somewhat mitigated the sheepish feeling I had, pun intended, while handing his dad a gift bag with a slightly smelly cheese inside), we headed out to the pub to celebrate his best friend’s new baby. His best friend was absent, having already stopped in earlier to have half a bottle of champagne, but the celebration continued without him, since it was a good excuse to have a celebration on a Friday night. I definitely felt noticeably yellow-skinned, as I kept getting “Ooh, Mommy, look at the giraffe!” looks from some of the other people in the bar. But at least they weren’t “Ew, Mommy, look at the leeches!” looks.
By this time, the U.S. must be in full holiday prep mode, with store displays hawking an overwhelming assortment of food, decorations, supplies, and other related items for Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas, with token displays for Hanukkah and Kwanzaa and whatnot. Here, Christmas is the only holiday remaining for the year, and there haven’t been any displays up that I have seen (although I haven’t been in town much to notice). While it is nice to avoid the blatant commercialism, it does make things difficult for Americans who want to celebrate Halloween and Thanksgiving. Expats are busily trying to find out where they can order turkeys, which aren’t very popular in Switzerland, and throwing together homemade costumes, since Halloween has only recently surfaced here on a very small scale, and is only for children. Fiver will be going as Darth Vader, thanks to a costume my sister sent me, but my costume is still up in the air. For Thanksgiving, my friends and I are thinking random potluck of whatever food items we are able to find and prepare, limited by what is sold in stores, and how much skill we have. Oh, and oven space. Ovens here are very small, and rarely fit anything larger than about 10 pounds. Isn’t the whole point of an oven so that you can cook large quantities of food at one time?
Swissification update: A sign that I am caving to the Swiss mentality, in some respects: I no longer flinch when buying movie tickets for about $14, and I think it’s a great deal when I go on Monday, which is cheap ticket day, when the tickets cost about $10. Another sign: I can no longer imagine working nights, weekends, or holidays, and I am wondering how on earth to make 25 vacation days (plus 10 Swiss holidays) stretch out over an entire year.
Anyways, after traveling six out of the last seven weekends, I’ll be staying in town this weekend (no guarantees for the one after that, though), to reacquaint myself with what Zurich has to offer.
Ireland was loads of fun. I got in a bit before midnight on Friday night, and after dropping by my friend’s house to leave my bag, say hi to his dad, and give his dad the wheel of Swiss-made sheep’s milk cheese (I only realized after getting on the plane that it was sort of an odd gift, but my friend had suggested it, telling me that his parents love cheese, which somewhat mitigated the sheepish feeling I had, pun intended, while handing his dad a gift bag with a slightly smelly cheese inside), we headed out to the pub to celebrate his best friend’s new baby. His best friend was absent, having already stopped in earlier to have half a bottle of champagne, but the celebration continued without him, since it was a good excuse to have a celebration on a Friday night. I definitely felt noticeably yellow-skinned, as I kept getting “Ooh, Mommy, look at the giraffe!” looks from some of the other people in the bar. But at least they weren’t “Ew, Mommy, look at the leeches!” looks.
By this time, the U.S. must be in full holiday prep mode, with store displays hawking an overwhelming assortment of food, decorations, supplies, and other related items for Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas, with token displays for Hanukkah and Kwanzaa and whatnot. Here, Christmas is the only holiday remaining for the year, and there haven’t been any displays up that I have seen (although I haven’t been in town much to notice). While it is nice to avoid the blatant commercialism, it does make things difficult for Americans who want to celebrate Halloween and Thanksgiving. Expats are busily trying to find out where they can order turkeys, which aren’t very popular in Switzerland, and throwing together homemade costumes, since Halloween has only recently surfaced here on a very small scale, and is only for children. Fiver will be going as Darth Vader, thanks to a costume my sister sent me, but my costume is still up in the air. For Thanksgiving, my friends and I are thinking random potluck of whatever food items we are able to find and prepare, limited by what is sold in stores, and how much skill we have. Oh, and oven space. Ovens here are very small, and rarely fit anything larger than about 10 pounds. Isn’t the whole point of an oven so that you can cook large quantities of food at one time?
Swissification update: A sign that I am caving to the Swiss mentality, in some respects: I no longer flinch when buying movie tickets for about $14, and I think it’s a great deal when I go on Monday, which is cheap ticket day, when the tickets cost about $10. Another sign: I can no longer imagine working nights, weekends, or holidays, and I am wondering how on earth to make 25 vacation days (plus 10 Swiss holidays) stretch out over an entire year.
Anyways, after traveling six out of the last seven weekends, I’ll be staying in town this weekend (no guarantees for the one after that, though), to reacquaint myself with what Zurich has to offer.
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