Giving Salvador Dali a run for his money

I was greeted by an email the other morning issuing a warning to local residents of nearby Adliswil not to drink their water supply, as there had been a sewerage leak into the drinking water supply. (Ack.)

Then I was warned that there would be country-wide air-raid-like sirens going off after lunch on Wednesday, just for practise... (In fact they did, and the hooter sent the kids running around the house and hiding under their doonas, with much dramatic screeching.)

Call it holiday fever (next week marks the beginning of the two-week Sportsferien, or 'Sports holiday' - yes, there is a holiday dedicated entirely to being healthy) or the impending Zürich Carnival due to kick off this Friday night, but as the week was drawing to a close I wasn't surprised to find myself standing in front of an enormous pile of skis, boots, stocks, helmets etc. after I impulsively booked myself and the kids in for 4 days of skiing at Amden next week.

The departure discussion with the ski-hire guys went as follows:

Pedro: You want to pick the rest of it up tomorrow?
Me: No way, dudes! What you see on the floor is what I have to carry on the train next week.
Pedro: You?
Me: And the kids. Make it so!
Pedro's boss: You want to hire Pedro? He can carry to Amden. Hahaha!
Pedro: Ja! I come free if you buy Ski Tarife (lift ticket) and hotel room.
Me: Ha. Very funny. Find me some bags and help me pack it all up, silly boys.

Preceded by:

Pedro: You ski before?
Me: Yes. A long time ago.
Pedro: How long?
Me: Er... nearly twenty years...
Pedro: (hysterical laughter) Oy! Very different! Look at the little skis! You beginner now I think!! (More sniggering.)

Anyway, they dutifully helped me pack up all the stuff, including back-protectors, the wearing of which DS is convinced makes him eligible to join the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (hmm... Michelangelo, Donatello, Leonardo, Raphael and... Dali?).

So we lugged it all fairly uneventfully onto the train and then bus, where of course we were greeted by a bus-driver completely dressed in clown garb.

DD and I cast slightly confused looks at each other as our Dear Clown - after announcing the bus stops - cracked jokes followed by a slightly manic 'hahaha'. We could only assume we were in fact on the right planet because - truly, even with my newly-acquired Deutsch A1 Zertifikat under my belt - I had a snowball's chance in hell of understanding any of his microphone-distorted Swiss-German.

Nobody seemed too bothered by the streamers and random hoot of the party horn, however, so we decided to relax and go with the flow. Plus, the jokes must have been pretty funny, because the Dear Locals were all giggling.

One more thing: as I was just now cooking dinner for the troops I chanced to look out the window to see a chap sauntering along the street wearing wrapped around his torso an enormous white tuba.

At that point I confess I was compelled to check and make sure he wasn't also walking a lobster.