Grossmünster

Yesterday we went into the city for a weekend outing, and climbed one of the twin spires of the Grossmünster cathedral.




It's a beautiful church with many steps to the top (DD counted 184 on the way down). My legs were still recovering from The Hill, but I managed to make it up...



Needless to say, the air was really clear.

Enough is enough

Call me obsessive, but I can't live in a house that smells like the floor of a bar.

I sent urgent SOS texts to DM and DMiL and, armed with their responses, I went to war.

I couldn't find any vanilla, but bought lavender and eucalyptus oils, vinegar, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg and apples. Then I put apples in every room and washed the bathrooms with a mix of vinegar, water, lavender and eucalyptus (in lieu of tea-tree) oils.

I also started boiling up a concoction of apples, cinnamon and cloves.

None of this seemed to make much difference. My children still smelled like they'd been at the Uni Bar all day, and I was getting more and more desperate.

So, having tried the natural products, I eventually dragged the kids back down The Hill and bought out the Co-op's supply of Febreeze.

I washed every wall and sprayed as much of the ceiling as I could. This is the mark of a desperate Hausfrau.

DD thought the bathrooms were significantly improved after my efforts, but by the next morning things were almost back to the way they'd been before the Febreeze.

My morale is at an all-time low, although occasionally it gets put into perspective when (for example) DS says, 'Mum, have you ever had butter stuck up your nose?'.

No, but I wish I did right now.

Mixed messages

There's one very odd thing about Switzerland.

It's supposed to be known for its healthy lifestyle, clean air, top notch health system... and then there are the gazillion people who smoke.

It's unbelievable. You can smoke in just about any restaurant or cafe, and there are always people chuffing away while they wait for a tram. In many vending machines on train station platforms you can buy chips and drinks and gum... and ciggies.

You can guarantee you will smell like smoke when you get home from a big day out, just because it's everywhere.

I've even noticed that many apartments have hooks outside the doors on the balconies for people to hang their coats outside. I think this is because it's so smoky in public places.

And in our apartment.

Did the Hausfrau save the day?

There was certainly some legwork involved in the move to the new apartment on October 1st.

We ended up storing three very large backpacks at the Hauptbahnhof (central train station), and our RO was kind enough to put a whole bunch of our belongings in the back of her car.

The kids and I took a ferry from Bürkliplatz in the city to Meilen, which is on the East bank of the lake, and then another ferry across the lake.

The sofa-bed arrived on time, and the air freight arrived on time. So we headed off to pick up our luggage from the Hauptbahnhof only to discover we'd forgotten the ticket, and didn't have our passports with us. So we had to go back 'home' and then back to the city, and by the time we got home it was about 9pm, and the kids were bordering on psychotically tired.

So everything went fairly smoothly...

Except for the smell in the apartment.

How my nose came back to bite me

Remember how I had that sinus infection?

Well, in a gravely unfortunate twist of fate, I happened to look at Apartment B while I was nasally challenged.

The end result was that we are now living in the stinkiest apartment under the sun. It smells like an ash tray. And so do we.

This is how I felt at the end of the first day:

How The Queen of The Hill got back online

OK, so the ordering of the modem etc. was pretty easy - we did that online in our previous digs. But when we'd been in our new place for a few days I received a note in the mailbox that HDDH (Herr Dr. DH!) had a package at the post office. So down the hill we go...

When I arrived at the post office I showed them my passport and DH's passport, only to be informed with a hint of disapproval that I didn't have the same last name as my husband. After some discussion amongst themselves, during which they waved my passport about, they agreed to let me collect the parcel for him this time, but didn't look too happy about it.

The parcel was very large. It wouldn't even fit in the OGT (Orange Grannie Trolley - another story for another post).

But happily we'd arranged to meet our RO to help us get registered at the local police office and school registration (I don't even know the name of this office), and she immediately offered to drive us back up The Hill with the parcel.

This was music to my ears, because The Hill is formidable. It is at least a 45 degree incline, and in some parts if you lie down on the path it's almost like you're standing up. (Or so I'm told by DS.)

The walk home can go for up to 20 minutes, depending on how much you have in the OGT, or the CRI (Child Resistance Index).

Let's just say that my legs are getting a massive workout: this particular day I ended up walking up and down 3 times, much to the horror of the kids.

The upshot of all this is that we have a modem and the equivalent of a cable set top box. And so the Hausfrau is back online.

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.