Thursday, December 17, 2009

Visiting Zurich

I might as well start with this: I. Saw. A. MIDGET. A Swiss midget. More on this later, but don't be fooled: They walk among us. And they're trying to close in on me. My days may be numbered, but I won't let them and their little schemes control my life. No, sir!

-----

B had to work in Strasbourg. There's no direct way to get there from Vienna, so we flew into Zurich on Sunday, with the idea of staying with friends overnight, then taking the train to Strasbourg the next day.

Landed in Zurich and took the train to the center of town. There were all kinds of people scurrying around just after dark, and you know you're in an alpine country when a good percentage of them are carrying skis and snowboards, fresh from a weekend at the slopes.

Before going further, let me say this: B is a hell of a wizard when it comes to organizing trips. She had this thing all worked out like clockwork. SWISS clockwork. There were no stumbles or hassles or glitches anywhere along the way---the plane rides, the train rides, the transportation in the two cities we visited (Zurich and later Strasbourg), the timing of the whole thing. If she ever gets tired of interpreting, B can make a living as a travel agent.

Found our friends' apartment after hopping a tram from the center of town. And holy Shiite, what an apartment it was! The place occupied the entire top floor of their building, about 1500 square feet. It was ultra-modern (though the building was old.) Stainless steel state of the art everything in the kitchen, heated hardwood floors, a huge open living / dining area, a patio running the length of the apartment (probably 50 feet long X 10 feet wide) with glass doors also running the length of the patio. There were two bedrooms and two baths in the place, on opposite ends of the penthouse, and we stayed in one while R and C, B's friends, slept in theirs. A hotel suite this nice would have cost long green...

R is one of B's colleagues. Originally from Holland, he's lived all over the place but settled in Zurich. “It's a great place to live,“ he said. “Great and reliable public transportation, lots of things to see and do, a huge lake, two rivers...really nice.“ He and C (a Swiss native) live in an eclectic area; in fact, he said the red-light district was only a few blocks away. But it was obvious their neighborhood is more gentrified than it is rough around the edges.

C had formed a film distribution company some years ago, which she finally sold in 2001. “Like everything else, it was grow or die, and I didn't want to grow any more,“ she told us. “I hate that it worked out that way because I really loved my business, but enough was finally enough.“ She was instrumental in bringing Ang Lee to the attention of the film-going world, and guys like Jim Jarmusch to Europeans' attention.

We sat around talking about all kinds of stuff. C had just returned from two years in Cuba, of which she said: “It's a sad place. Some in the West like to pretend Cuba is filled with happy people, but you can see their spirit has been crushed. They're sick and tired of being sick and tired.“ She loved the place but had to leave because she couldn't get any films going there. No money and too much government bullshit.

R, a great cook, prepared a delicious supper: roast chicken, saffron risotto, roasted bell peppers, and spinach. Along with a really good Italian red wine, a bottle of which I'm going to try to find when I get home.

Afterward we went for a walk in the cold Zurich night. We walked along the river and then over to an old part of town with cobblestone streets and a lot of funky bars, restaurants, and shops. One place shocked me: a Carhardt outlet. Carhardt makes work clothes, not high-end stuff for Swiss yuppies. Yet there was the fucking store. It was closed or I'd have gone in to see what they charge for a $35 pair of work pants. Probably a lot more than $35...

We walked around for about 90 minutes. Back at the house, desert and drinks: creme caramel with homemade whipped cream and some good schnapps, whiskey, and / or both. More conversation until about midnight, then off to bed.

Next morning R had to leave early---had to teach a class then get himself to Strasbourg to do some interpreting work for the European Parliment, same as B. I managed to wake up in time to say adios. He really is a nice guy and a gracious host, and even offered to let us stay at his place in Brussels if we want. Which we will, someday.

B had to leave a few hours later but for me, the plan was to hang around Zurich until about 4:30 then take the train by myself. That way I could see Zurich by daylight.

But not by sunlight----the only time I've seen the sun since I arrived in Europe on Dec. 7 was when the plane to Zurich broke through the clouds. Central Europe seems to be covered by one gigantic gray cloud, and that was the scene for me as I set off after saying goodbye to C about 11 AM. With 5.5 hours to kill, I started roaming around...

Switzerland doesn't use the Euro, so I had to get some Swiss Francs out of an ATM. First lesson: minimum withdrawal, at the bank I found anyway, was 50 francs. Second lesson: the dollar and the franc are about dead even in value right now, so little Jethro didn't have to do a lot of fancy cypherin' to figure out how much I'd be spending on stuff I bought. Third lesson: Swiss money shore is purty! Bright colors and lots of neat security features.

Fourth lesson: stuff is expensive in Switzerland. My mission: find something relatively cheap to eat for lunch. Degree of difficulty: Im-fucking-possible. Passing by the dreaded McDonald's, I took a look at the price of a Big Mac, fries, and drink---$11.70. Not that I would eat that shit, but still. Gives you an idea. Later I passed a pizzaria and saw they had a small pizza for about $17, a medium for about $30, and a family size was $40. At those prices, the pizza better be covered with caviar and gold flakes, and served to me by an army of fawning midgets who renounce their John X jihhad.

However, I later stumbled upon the Swiss version of the inescapable European open-air Christmas market, where I found what we'd call a bratwurst on a roll for $5.50.Which I ate.

Stuff I didn't see while wandering around: homeless people or beggars. Switzerland must have them, but maybe they were vacationing in the south of France the day I was visiting.

I roamed around taking pictures and looking in store windows. I passed the high-end shops. There were a lot of watches on display (Switzerland, remember?) and some of these bad boys were over $10,000 and up. I saw a pair of lady's glasses in an optician's shop for $2000. My head swirled and I wondered if I'd blow my entire $50 / 50 francs on feeding myself...

Very tired all of a sudden, I headed for the main train station. It's huge, and there were thousands of people rushing all over the place. Me, though, I was stumbling. And there, in the center of the place, was about a hundred stalls selling----what else?----Christmas crap.

Only, I found a treasure. One place was selling sausages and other kind of meat. I found a pair of smoked sausages heavy with garlic for about $5. I munched on these things for a couple of hours while waiting for the train to Strasbourg.

After three hours of walking all over the place, I was wasted. I sat down, drank from my water bottle, and watched people go by. When I got up, my legs kind of seized up but I walked it off, exploring the huge train station.

And that's when I saw the midget. He was walking fast, like everyone else, on his way to some nameless something. He looked to be in his fifties and had a semi-long beard. looked at him and realized the bastards had discovered yet again that I was in Europe, and they were watching me! As we passed I stared at him, hoping he'd look at me so I could communicate with a glance that I am still a formidable enemy, not one to be taken lightly by the Smalls. But he didn't make eye contact, just kept walking. Looked innocent enough...but I knew he was telling the others about me.

Finally 4:30 came. I hopped on the train and the train pulled out of the station for Strasbourg, about 3 hours ahead. I tried to watch the countryside roll by in the vanishing light but soon it was too dark to do anything but read, write, and review the pictures I'd taken.

No comments: