Once more unto the breeches

Back in Zürich once again, and I was very excited to have Dear Cousin and Dear Cousin-in-Law-To-Be arrive from London for the New Year festivities.

I can't say it felt like a homecoming after being in Paris, but there is no doubt Zürich is a beautiful city.

DS, fuelled by a recent post-Christmas swords-and-shields Lego fest, was easily convinced to accompany us to the Swiss National Museum, which houses a huge collection of arms (swords, muskets, helmets, jousting equipment to name but a few attractions), as well as clothing from various centuries, and artefacts from prehistory and the early modern era.

[Bat Girl: What are you doing for New Year, Ginny Weasley?
Ginny Weasley: I dunno. Probably just hanging out on this flying horse or something.]


DD was at first less than enthused ('Why would I want to do that anyway?'), but probably because she was still sporting a miserable cold from before Christmas, which wasn't helped by late evenings in Paris spent jumping on mattresses and consuming chocolate, vacherin, chèvre and other dairy delights.

I particularly enjoyed the clothing exhibit, which contained various displays of folk (stuffed puppets, really) in garb from various eras: in their drawing rooms, playing cards, at the market, and so-on. The clothing from the 1700s was quite something: ornate, with subtly coloured fabrics and beautiful detail. This goes, too, for the army uniforms which, while they were bolder in colour (so the enemy couldn't miss you in all your splendour), of course would have been hand-made and -tailored. The work!

One uniform in particular DC and I found amusing: the chap wearing it looked more like a court jester than a soldier, with striped, ballooning knicker-bockers and blousy neck-tie. We wondered if today's equivalent might be Morrissey-designed Army greens. (Hey, if the Qantas airline crews can do it...)

We also couldn't help feeling slightly itchy knowing that the veneer of rich brocades and puffy wigs would have in fact disguised seething, multi-generational lice families and other entomological delights.

By the way, we had a fun New Year's Eve in Horgen: fireworks in the city could be seen from the vantage point at the top of our Hill, and the locals got into the spirit of it, exploding mini-rockets in their front yards from 10pm onwards. Let me tell you, those rockets aren't quiet. I'm amazed our children didn't stir, since it sounded like we were under attack. (Even though that's kind of unlikely in Switzerland of all places...)

To market, to market

DF arrived (again!) just in time for the Christmas Markets.

It seems that the small townships in the area have markets on different weekends - usually Friday to Sunday - and this weekend was our turn.


But first we had to go to into Zürich to see what was happening there, as we'd read that the markets were on in Niederdorf, or the old town.







We never made it to the old town, though, because we went on a bit of a detour, which took us past the singing Christmas Tree (which was kind of quiet since we'd just missed the day's performance).

And unfortunately it had started to rain (see, I can say 'unfortunately' now that I'm in Europe and not the Sunburnt Country), so we huddled around tables under umbrellas while the Waffeln Woman mixed Waffeln mix and cooked them fresh on the spot. (We actually had to wait a good 20 mins for the last waffle because she'd mixed the wrong amounts of sugar and flour into the mix. Or at least I think that's what she said.)

There were still a good number of people standing around drinking mulled wine, or Gluhwein, despite the weather.

As the temperature plunged, though, we decided to head home and leave our 'home'-town markets for another night.

PS. Naturally, I couldn't resist taking a few shots as we trekked past on the way home...

A Never-Ending Sunday in the Theatre of Life

After half a day water-sliding my way through life at Alpamare, you'd think I'd've been on the couch recovering.

Not so. I did have a reviving cup of tea, but then realised we should think about heading into the city to see the annual Santa parade down the Bahnhofstrasse.

So off we set, into the Kinirtaq (!), and on the train to the Hauptbahnhof, where floods of kids and parents were making their way into the city.

As we got off the train at the Hauptbahnhof, we were a little surprised to see a Harry Potter mural along one side of the train parked on the very next platform (or Gleis).

Not only that, but there was a queue of people lined up to go on the train. DH and I cast excited looks at one another and, without further ado, swung into action.

He and the kids joined the queue as I headed for the nearest 'Hogwarts Security' guard, who explained that we could go on the Hogwarts Express (read: ZVV train all Pottered up for promotional purposes). He told us it was an exhibition which included costumes from the most recent movie, as well as props and partial sets (read: the launch of The Order of the Phoenix DVD).


We really couldn't believe our luck (remember how DD was reading all those Potter books in parallel?), especially when we boarded the Hogwarts Express to see the real live robes of Harry Potter, Lucius Malfoy and Luna Lovegood, as well as a reconstruction of part of Umbridge's office complete with pink cat-plates.

DH was rather taken with the rows of ingredients for making potions and frankly, even though this sort of blatant promotion aimed at children makes the cynic in me cringe, I couldn't help feeling somewhat excited and more than a bit interested in the costumes and theatre of it all.

And we even had time to get to the Santa parade! (Which we privately and totally undeservedly congratulated ourselves on...)

In fact, the parade was just about to get underway as we arrived, and I must say I rather enjoyed seeing all the Elves and Santas in costume, congregated in the just-rainy night with their various floats and horses and Christmas lights.

Brass bands played very oom-pah stuff as the procession worked its way down the Bahnhofstrasse, but even though it was very Euro and Christmassy and all that, there were bucket-loads of people lining the street, and the kids were starting to get cold and hungry. Plus, I suspect seeing approximately 37 Santas could have been a mite confusing for DS.

PS. I took a few photos of the parade, but after the HP adventure my camera kept shutting down and telling me I had zero charge. So I had to keep tricking it and quickly taking a photo before it shut down again.

So if you look closely at this last photo you might see one of the old trams all lit up like a Christmas tree, and - at the top - you might also see the vertical Christmas lights which are hung the length of the Bahnhofstrasse (the ones people complained about last year). And I must say they are kind of interesting, but not really Christmassy in the twinkly sense. Another photo later, perhaps, when I have a charged-up camera.

A watery Sunday

This weekend DD was invited to the farewell party of a friend she'd only just met. (Such is the life of the ex-pat.)

This was no ordinary party. It was at Alpamare, home of Europe's biggest indoor water-slide.

Now I don't think I'm an over-protective mother, but I did have a little niggling feeling that it might be best if I accompanied her, or at least loitered nearby, since all the girls were at least two years older than DD, and DD is not yet a strong swimmer.

So at the crack of dawn I jumped on a train to Pfäffikon, with the aim of meeting them there. (DD had joined the girls in the car.)

Oh boy was I glad I went.

Not for DD's sake - she was fine; happy I'd come, but basically fine.

No, I was glad I'd gone because Alpamare has some serious water-slide action, and let me tell you I might have been acting all casual, but it's not every day you get the run of the place without having to keep an eye on a five-year-old as well.

The first thing I noticed on approach was that the side of the hill was steaming. That looked promising.

The next thing I noticed was that, because we were there so early in the day, the car park was rather empty. So far so good.

I located the girls easily, made sure DD was OK with new faces and non-English-speakers, and then went for it.

I can't say I tried all the slides, because there were a few favourites which took up a bit of my time, notably one which was very fast and you had to go down solo: unaccompanied by people or floatation devices.

DD, whenever I passed her, forced me to go down whichever slide she'd just been down, so of course being a good mother I obliged.

But by far the funniest thing about this place was the wave pool.

Every 20 mins or so a siren went off, and people started swarming towards the wave pool (which was really just like a 50 metre pool, if that) to the throes of Hawaiian guitar. Not only that, but as the Hawaiian music subsided, the artificial thunder started up, the strobe lightning kicked in, and then it started to 'rain'! I couldn't stop laughing, and wondered what DD was thinking about it all as she braved the chlorine waves.

I tried to explain to DD's friend's mother why it was so funny, but found myself telling her about Australian beaches and how DD had been surfing last Christmas holidays, and how huge the beaches are...

Even the raspberry (or was it grape?) slushy at lunch couldn't mask the homesickness at that point.

I meandered back to the train station with my hair still a bit wet under my hat, and wondered how long it would be before I felt sand between my toes again.


I felt the solidarity, though, when I got home to find DH glued to the computer again after yesterday's election, eyeing off the electorate figures and ruing the fact that he hadn't been able to go back to the tally room this year.

Boot on other foot

Saturday really began on Monday, when DH and I sat down and with great ceremony filled out our postal votes. (Which way would it swing? Could we really wait until Saturday to find out?)

The Real Saturday began with DH and the Hausfrau glued to the computer, streaming radio and (eventually) ABC TV.

Presently, however, Life in Switzerland intervened: I had to go and find DD some snow boots before her feet froze and fell off, and Real Saturdays are the only weekend shopping days, since everything is closed on Real Sundays.

So off we set, leaving DH still glued to the computer, not knowing if we'd return to a Liberal or Labor government. I had my mobile phone at the ready.

We passed our friend Sheepish on the way, which of course made me think of elections even more, since in the recent Swiss election there had been a campaign involving sheep.

Please, let me explain.

The Swiss People's Party (SVP) came up with the idea of using the image of a black sheep to represent their view that Ausslanders (foreigners) with criminal records should not be allowed to stay in Switzerland. Unfortunately marrying the 'black' concept with the 'we don't want you to stay' concept was wading waist-high into racist territory. And, regardless of what they might say (and they claim they're not racist), pictures speak louder than words.

I guess any press is good press come election time, but I must add that the mug-shot bill-board posters of SVP candidates around the time of the election could be seen not infrequently with extra 'decoration' from the public. (Read: Hitler moustaches and devil horns.)

Not only that, but one weekend some protestors had set up a kind of patting-pen on the Bahnhofstrasse, in which were a number of white and black sheep, living in harmony, one presumes.

Back on track, though: Did we find a pair of boots for DD?

Yes, we did. Not only that, but as she was replacing one old pair of (I could say jackboots, but that would be silly) boots with new black ones, DH called with the news.

Out with the old, and in with the new.

(Now where have I heard that before? I should be a speech writer.)

Chocolate cake, anyone?

While DF and DM were in town, I managed a child-free jaunt to the city with DB, whereupon we visited several art galleries and forced ourselves to stop for treats and coffee in the sun (oh, OK, tea - I have had two coffees so far... one of which I had to load with sugar and chunks of the kids' ice-creams in order to make it palatable).

We saw a few different exhibitions, but my fave was one half of the Daros collection, which I enjoyed immensely, mainly because they had a couple of good Warhols and also Camnitzer's Coca Cola Bottle filled with a Coca Cola Bottle (literally a Coke bottle filled with a broken Coke bottle), which quite appealed to my sense of humour.

Naturally, all this was on Limmatstrasse in Industriequartier, a somewhat emerging theme for recent outings in the city.

I would just like to add this image from our recent night-time outing to a club in Industriequartier... (It was the next-door shop, so sadly I won't be able to say: 'Yeah, so I was hanging out at Bogen 33 when... etc.')