Gastronomy

1. The Very Solid Swiss Meal (schnitzel stuffed with some kind of cheese); and 2. Veggie restaurant called Hiltl (gotta love the photos on their site), where you pay by weight of plate. There are at least twenty different salads and other dishes to choose from. The dhal is to die for.

Needless to say, one might prefer the Hiltl experience, but when in Rome... I've barely scratched the surface of the Swiss dining experience (chocolate included).

I have read about (but haven't yet tried) the restaurant up the road from here, Blinde Kuh (the Blind Cow), which is run by blind staff - when you eat there you have a fully blind experience, with no lighting, mobile phones, lit-up wristwatches etc. I quite like that idea. I mean, in general it's great to be able to see what you're putting in your mouth, but sometimes things can distract from the flavours. Mind you, I expect it might get old for me if I didn't have a choice.

PS. I know this is a bad post, even though I find the idea of a sightless restaurant fascinating. It's a bit like gossip... Have you heard about the... And apparently he said... And then apparently she said...

Next time I promise I will (try to) have actually been to the places I write about.

An exercise in living in the moment (and not spending excess energy worrying about future challenges)

So far this is what I anticipate Monday is going to look like:

8:30am - completely vacate current apartment - with far too many bags of paraphernalia as well as 4 huge backpacks, 4 small backpacks and a computer...

2pm - sign over to Apartment B.

3pm - delivery of recently acquired second-hand sofa-bed.

4pm - delivery of air freight.

2 weeks (?) later - sea freight will hopefully arrive.

I have bought ktichen-y stuff like plates and spoons and glasses from the Brockenhalle (second-hand joint) across the road where I found the sofa-bed, so we will at least be able to eat off something.

What will happen on Monday? Will the plan come together?

Will the police have to remove us from the streets for cluttering up the sidewalk for 6 hours?

Will the Ex-Pats be sleeping on piles of dirty clothes? (OK, probably not really dirty, but it sounds more dramatic.)

Will they have to make one of their children pretend to be a kitchen table?

Will the poor daughter's teddy arrive in time?

Will the Hausfrau save the day?

... and then there are the pretzels

There are what look like mobile pretzel stands outside various department stores around the city.

You can choose plain, seeded, or stuffed full of stuff like various kinds of cheese including one which looks like it has walnuts in it, and one that absolutely reeks (to the untrained cheese-taster). You can also choose salmon, salami of various kinds, or ham.

My offspring chose plain, mainly because they couldn't reliably identify any of the fillings at this stand, and a pretzel is a big commitment: they're easily 25cm in width. That's almost bigger than DS's head.

Respect!

This piece of graffiti is on the table at the local children's playground. In case you can't see it, it says:

LOVE US OR DIE!

Yikes. I guess you could read it in the light of WWII, the injustices of which doubtless run deep.

But then again, maybe it's the usual racial tension you'd find in any city: teenagers flexing their group identity muscles.

rocket science

You know how you always hear these stories about people who migrate to Oz who get to be toilet cleaners even though in their home country they are really a brain surgeon? Well, I can understand how this would happen.

For instance, I have made several phonecalls, always prefaced with, 'English?' because I think it's pretty arrogant to think that people will automatically understand you. Occasionally someone will respond, 'Yes', but often I'm put back on hold for a while, presumably so they can trot off to find someone who can speak English. This is kind of embarrassing: one doesn't like to feel one is putting someone out, but c'est la vie.

So today I had a very funny exchange with a guy who sells mattresses who clearly had zero English. Not a word.

I should preface this by saying that we will be moving into our new flat on October 1st and will have no furniture - no beds - until our sea freight arrives in two or three weeks.

Me: English?
Him: Nein.

[Logically, where can it go from here? Still I persist.]

Me: Ah. So. Bed? Bett?
Him: Schwiizertüütschsomethingorother

[Again, where can it go from here? But I couldn't let go of the mattress dream.]

Me: Hmmm. So. No English? Nobody else can speak to me?
Him: Schwiizertüütschsomethingorother

It was only after I'd put the phone down that I thought, 'I could have asked him in German'... Duh.

I have just enough German to sound like a toilet cleaner as opposed to a brain surgeon. (But who needs to be able to perform a lobotomy when all you need is a mattress?)

...What am I saying? I am a toilet cleaner! Vive la hausfrau!

Apartment B

We have accepted Apartment B, which turns out to be 10 mins by fast train to Zürich central (20 mins on other trains) on the west side of Lake Zürich.

At the last minute, our RO came up with this place, which is a 3-bedder, situated very close to three types of school.

'Three?' You may well ask. 'What are they? Education freaks?'

Let's just say that three is is a good number. You see, after DH and I had finally decided we were destined for Apartment A, we discovered that in order for DD to attend the local school which was 4 minutes' walk away, she would first need to attend Kleinklasse E - what we'd refer to as an IEC school - for 6 months to a year (3 years max), in order to get her German up to speed.

Which was all fine, except that we were under the impression that these Kleinklasse E schools were just a part of every school but a separate class. We were wrong.

So even though we discovered a Kleinklasse E five minutes away in from Apartment A, DD would have had to attend school in a different town again. This would have meant a bus, then a train, and then possibly a bit of a walk or another bus.

And don't forget: they come home at lunchtime!

Can you imagine how my day would look? How would I get DS to kindy and back? How would I find time to buy rice in bulk for DH? How would I find time to blog?

Happily, there is an E Class nearby Apartment B, as well as a local 'regular' school, and a kindy. Plus it's a nice apartment and it has... its own washing-machine!

Ah, the things that sway one's decisions these days...

A whiter shade of ail(ment)

Today I learned a little bit about the Swiss medical system. It has a reputation of being second to none, and after today's little experience I don't doubt it. (Don't read this if you're bored by health stories. Plenty of time for those in the retirement home!)

This particular doctor is situated in the middle of town on the second floor of a beautiful old building. At street level is a 24-hour chemist, which has the feel of an old lolly shop, with ceiling-height, carved timber shelving and all manner of fascinating jars and drawers and scales.

Anyway, upstairs the receptionist/nurses (4 of them) had white aprons over their street clothes, and both doctors (I saw two swanning around) were decked out completely in white - ours sported a white polo shirt, white slacks, white loafers, and a massive tan. He was young, Greek, as it turned out, and looked like he should have been on a yacht, at sunset...

In my experience in Oz, if you visit the doc for the dreaded sinusitis, they prod you and poke you, and sometimes give you an antibiotic.

Here, I had blood taken (finger prick) and tested on the spot, and an X-RAY!@##$%

Nurse: So I vill take you for ze X-ray now?
Me: Sorry?
Nurse: So I vill... etc.
Me: Sorry? Did you just say X-ray?
Nurse: Yes, and ve vill leave the children here to wait?
Me: Er... OK. (Thinks: Holy cow. Do they really think that's a good idea? [Children currently squabbling over the water filter.])

I couldn't believe it. They did it all on site, and I only had to wait 10 minutes for results. And the children played I-Spy quite happily in my absence. (DS was sure he'd seen a Trud. Whatever that is.)

I was getting slightly anxious that I might be faking it and they might find nothing wrong with me, and then I might get put in jail... but luckily I really do have gammy sinuses.

PS. The whole building was painted white inside, with black leather chairs complete with almost embarrassingly stylish sick people.

Country Lady or City Dame?

Yesterday was the first day of work for DH at Infotech Central, and therefore the first day of work for me as a real Hausfrau.

So we cleaned the house (a bit) and did the shopping, chopped the top off my finger, visited the Apotheke for bandages, snorted a lot because DS and I have colds, and saw two more apartments, neither of which was suitable.

I was able to watch the sun set over Zürich city from the 4th floor of the city apartment I saw last night. It was breathtaking, just behind the national museum, very central.

Of course I immediately thought, 'Wow, yes! This is the one! I would be able to swan around museums and galleries, climb spires, and learn how to drink non-decaffeinated coffee!'

But then reality slowly took over as I thought about how DS would get to kindy and DD to school. The road was insanely busy on both sides, and it was unbelievably noisy. The noise we would learn to tolerate, but even though littlies wear reflectors and are given a road-crossing tutorial by the local police, I couldn't see DS trundling to kindy safely, since he's only 5 and somewhat impulsive... No parks nearby and certainly no other children in the apartment block.

So it's off to the burbs, I think. Soon we will hear about one other apartment we applied for, which is close to schools, swimming centre (next door) and supermarket. Vive la Hausfrau Dream. (Hmm. That's about the most global, Euro statement I've made so far!)

Fish markets in Tokyo

The fish markets in Tokyo kick off at 4am. Naturally we didn't make it until they were about to close! But we were determined to see them, because DH needed to find the best sushi in the world.

We did find some amazing sushi (and other things of which I couldn't read the names), and had a real feast at a nearby restaurant. It was really, really yummy. And all before 10am!

As people entered the restaurant, the maitre d' announced a new arrival, and we heard a loud greeting from the entire floor of staff and customers. The same for our departure. I was sad we didn't understand more Japanese, but I guess you can't learn every language under the sun. We had a smile on our faces as we left, that's for sure.


This was the view out the window of the restaurant...

Yes, that is a giraffe sticking out the side of the building.

Japan

DD and I were interested to see that even the manholes in Japan were kinda beautiful.

Tokyo was so clean, and people were very polite. Even the warning that the trains were about to leave were gentle little tunes giving you just the right amount of time to jump on.

Sundays

Sunday in Zürich (and Switzerland in general) is a day of walking in the (ubelievably green) park, so to speak. It seems like nothing is open unless it is related to coffee.

I think there may be one Apotheke (chemist) open in the city, but all else is closed. Public transport operates of course, to allow people to go on mini-excursions to touristy destinations.

The upshot of this is that one has to be super-organised for a whole day (the pressure!), as there's no running to the shops at the last minute for supplies.

By the way, if anyone has any ideas about why you'd take a saw and chop the back off a seat on a tram, let me know.

In any case, it's forbidden.

Chocolate

Well, we finally made it to Sprüngli, the famous chocolatier.

The city shop has just been refurbished, and has a cafe downstairs and one upstairs. It has the most amazing array of choccies, and lovely gals in red coats and silver trays handing out samples with silver tongs. Oh joy! You should have seen the faces of my offspring - and father, if it comes to that.

The gal in this pic was dipping dried apricots in a constantly running fountain of chocolate... (as you do).

DF and MC

My own DF arrived in Zürich a couple of days ago.

DD was gob-smacked to see him for the first time casually seated on a park bench near our apartment.

DS, however, was less than surprised. I can only assume he doesn't have the concept of a billion miles away from home.

Today we took a ferry to the city and, among other things, saw the Chagall stained glass windows in the Fraümunster church.

The glass was much more textured and varied in colour density than I expected, and luminous. Really something to see.

More apartment viewing

So far I've seen four possible apartments where we could live. It's going to be difficult to move from Seefeld, though, where we are right now - better known as 'The Gold Coast', because it's the much sought-after sunny side of the lake. (The other side known as The Cold Coast, because they lose the sun earlier in the day due to the mountains to the west.)

Here it's also action central - on the tramline, about 7 stops from the centre of the city. It's full of people, cafés, boutiques, second hand shops. I tried on an Oscar de la Renta dress just because I could; and as for shoes, I've seen Chanel, Prada etc. in the second-hand shops for not exactly a song, but less than a symphony.

But back on track here: Luckily for me, our relocation 'officer' (RO) is very much on my wavelength with regard to apartments, and after dutifully showing me around one particular apartment, which was modern, clean, lovely etc., she left me to 'talk' to the caretaker.

I had a stilted conversation with Frau X, who was very polite but spoke mostly Swiss German. Turns out one couldn't leave shoes outside the doors (this is something people do a lot in winter especially). Her husband wouldn't have it. There was an allocated washing day and it MAY be possible to negotiate this with the neighbours. Also, it was a lovely quiet apartment... the older neighbours liked their privacy. At this point I'm imagining DS and his fog-horn morning voice...

When we left, our RO (Relo Officer) gave me a saccharine smile and said, 'Ach, so. Vat did you sink about ziss one?' I tried not to say anything but my mouth just said somewhat emphatically, 'No!'

RO started to laugh. 'I sink so too. You are not a country lady. Ziss is too Sviss for you! Oi! Ziss is too Sviss for me!'

Laundry

Ah. The laundry: two flights of stairs to the basement; must have booking; key (kept hanging on the wall on the floor above ours) must be available.

Once there, turn on electricity (may require money for meter on the wall).

Forget to take the money, so race back up to apartment, race back down again... the clock is ticking...

So the washing machine instructions (like most things here) are in German, French and Italian, and sometimes the machine won't let you have clothes back after the cycle has finished. In these cases I can't understand how to get the door open.

One time it created a certain sense of panic, mainly because I only had 17 minutes left in my time-slot in which to save the clothes and return safely to apartment.

After pacing a bit, I returned to the apartment hoping to find DH - even for a bit of good Aussie moral support - but sadly he was absent.

So back I went, to discover that I was now able to take my clothes out of the machine after all.

I still don't know why.

7am and the weather

At this time of day the trams have started up, one is allowed to use the water in the buildings, and I suppose people won't complain when kids start arguing and screeching. Nobody has complained yet. I keep wondering what happens if your kid vomits all night and you can't use the water until the morning... One has to hope one has forgiving neighbours. Or else you have to make a bath every night just in case!

One of our neighbours, after a stilted conversation said, 'Okay. See you? Maybe baby!' And laughed all the way to the bank. (Well, to the Co-op Supermarket, but bank sounds better for Zürich.)

I've been going for runs around the streets (not quite like running on the ridge in Oz!), and occasionally end up down by Lake Zürich, the grass around which kind of looks fake after spending so long in drought-stricken country.

Leaves are starting to turn, and people are starting to wear coats. Yesterday was fairly warm at about 18 degrees, but the other morning I could see my breath and the steam from the people's coffees.

I promise there will be pictures soon!

A small note on apartment living

By way of example: DS sticky-taped his nose to his knee last night. After he wrapped up a pair of smelly socks in a piece of paper as a gift for his father.

We have to spend a rather large amount of time at the local park...!

Shooting festival

So some of you may have heard that I managed to 'lose' all my photos from Tokyo as well as Zürich.

Some of these pictures were very cool if I do say so myself, including one of the kids with possibly the longest sausages they've ever had the joy of eating. This was at the local 'shooting' festival – this is a rather interesting phenomenon: an annual two-day festival which takes place on the second weekend in September and involves a shooting contest for boys and girls as well as a festival and street fair. The festival ends with the crowning of a King of the Marksmen.

We weren't sure where the shooting range was, so we didn't get to see any folk with guns (really, they use real guns), but we did see the fair. We took the #13 tram to the end of the line (that sounds like a story waiting to happen), where the whole the street is lined with food stalls (breads, lollies, sausages, all the usual stuff you'd see at the Canberra show only Swiss), and then the fair, which has rides, sideshow alley... all the usual stuff you'd see at a fair.

We took the ferris wheel [insert lovely pictures up high over Zürich with Swiss flags waving the b'ground] and ate Bürli bread rolls, to which I'm very attracted.

Yes, it's true: as we'd heard before we arrived, the selection of bread here is amazing.

First mention...

I am now officially a Hausfrau!

Yes, we had an interview (some call it an interrogation, but ours was very pleasant) in the local bank in Zürich, during which we were asked quite a few questions including the names and ages of our children (who were rolling on the floor fighting, prior to being given a colouring book and pencils), and my occupation... slight pause, explanation, followed by officious writing on yellow lined page:

HAUSFRAU

I have arrived!