It took me about five days to recover fully from whatever ailment(s) I developed in Spain, but it did give me a chance to lay low for a while and read (what a concept?!). Prior to collapsing upon my return to Zurich, Henry and I took part in the community Passover Seder at the Reform synagogue (the congregation also refers to itself as "Liberal" and "Progressive") we frequented while in Zurich. I could not follow most of the German, but the Hebrew is the same and so are the Passover story and the traditional Passover foods. During my stay in Barcelona, Henry trammed over to Kosher City to supply us with matzos for the eight days of Passover. Kosher City is Zurich's one-stop, get everything you need for Passover, and more, store, though Henry described it as being more like a Dorf (village) than a City. The matzo was whole wheat and from France, baked by a family in the matzo business for six generations. Unlike U.S. or Israeli matzo I have had at home, this matzo had perforations, making it very easy to beak the matzo in half. However, as the Rabbi demonstrated at the Seder, this also made it very difficult to determine which half of the middle matzo was the "Affikomen", or bigger half! Never mind that halves are by definition equal. Seder aficionados will understand!
All of a sudden, our imminent departure from Zurich was upon us! We packed up most of our stuff and drove it to Munich the week before our formal departure. With beautiful weather and time for a leisurely drive, we ambled through Bavaria along the Alpine Road and the Romantic Road on the way to Munich, and overnighted in Diessen, along the Ammersee (one of a series of lakes to the southwest of Munich) on the way back to Zurich. We enjoyed the peaceful retreat before the arrival of anticipated summer vacation traffic. While in Munich, we took care of administrative items such as residency certificates, visas, and bank accounts. We also had a preview of our new living quarters in Schwabing, a "happening" area near Munich's Ludwig Maxmillian's University and English Garden. Unlike the more residential location of our apartment in Zurich, our new apartment sits amidst cafes, restaurants, and pubs.
It is unfortunate that we left Zurich just when the trees were starting to bloom, dandelions were sprouting everywhere, pansies and tulips were adorning copious flower beds, the sun was shining, and the outdoor cafes were covering the sidewalks. However, at least we were there to watch the Zurichers celebrate Sechselauten, a three-day weekend fete during which Zurichers say farewell to winter in a big way. Every year, on the the third weekend of April, Zurich is a festive sight: flags are flying everywhere--on the cathedrals as well as public buildings, storefronts, and homes; food and drink stalls are set up along the sidewalks; and games and rides are offered for children. On Sunday, thousands of people line the streets to watch the throngs of children, marching bands, horses, and carriages parading on the main streets along the quays and bridges of the Limmat River. All of the paraders don historical dress. The costumed children carry baskets of candy, and as they progress along the parade route, they toss the candy to eager youngsters lining the sidewalks. A second parade, with adult marchers donning historical guild costumes, takes place the next day, on Monday afternoon, a work holiday throughout the city. Historically, the marchers were all male, and women lined the streets with flower bouquets and passed them out to the male marchers. I am pleased to report that I sighted a number of women band members, albeit a small minority. At the end of the parades, a huge effigy of a snowman ("Boogg") is pulled along on a float by a team of horses. Wood branches are bound around the snowman's base, and at 6PM on Monday evening, the snowman is set on fire. Analogous to the groundhog as a weather predictor, the speed at which the snowman's head explodes portends how fine the upcoming summer will be--the quicker, the better! As a further welcoming of spring, Zurich holds its annual marathon the following weekend--just days after we cleaned out and cleared out of our Zurich apartment.
Speaking of cleaning, about a week before we left Zurich, we received a long list of "to do's" from the apartment managers. In essence, we were directed to return the apartment to the condition in which we received it. That included washing all windows, inside AND out, and washing AND ironing all linens, including the ones we needed to use the last night and morning of our stay. The "or else" was that the management would send in cleaners for which we would be charged at the rate of 50 Swiss Francs an hour! This is one more example of the high cost of service-oriented offerings in Zurich (same as restaurants and hair salons). Maybe I can get an equally high paying job when our sabbatical is over. In any event, I can now say I iron AND do windows!
Did we miss out on anything we wanted to do in and around Zurich, but did not get to? On our last weekend, Henry had his boat ride on the Zurichsee, on a warm and sunny day (just what he waited for), and he was wowed by a Truffe hot chocolate. I missed out on visiting Geneva, but because I have been there before, it was not a major setback. I spent my last few days in Zurich roaming through the old town, visiting one more museum exhibit, photographing the spring version of many sights of which I spent the first three months photographing the winter version, and doing last minute shopping. Together, Henry and I had a pleasant, final Sunday brunch, and we savored our final cheese fondue dinner on our last night in Zurich. With spring in the air, and well satisfied with our Swiss sabbatical, both Henry and I now look forward to new adventures in Germany.
Our finest meals, in no special order:
1. Dinner at L'Osteria Mamma Leone (Zurich)
2. Brunch at Sterne-Foifi (Zurich)
3. Dinner at Rosaly's (Zurich)
4. Dinner at Palmhof (Zurich)
5. Dinner at Giglio (Zurich)
6. Lunch at Zum Schutzenhaus(in Basel)
7. Lunch at Le Cheval Blanc (Sion)
8. Lunch at Osteria del Centenario (in Locarno)
9. Lunch at Linde (in Einsiedeln)
10. Lunch at Vela Bianca (next to the marina in Ascona)
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Beths in Barcelona
Now that our friend, Beth (aka "Other Beth"), has been here and gone, and we are now into our last week in Zurich, it is definitely time for an update. Beth arrived to (surprise!!) overcast weather and rain. At least it wasn't snowing, though the rain followed Beth and me to Barcelona a few days later. It was a delight to have another master punster, queen of the quick repartee, and, simply, a good friend with whom to re-walk the streets of Zurich's Old Town, take another boat ride on the Zurichsee (the clouds cooperatively parted for the hour and a half ride), revisit some museums and get a first look at a couple of others (Kunsthaus--excellent collection of Swiss and international art, as well as a very interesting special exhibit of works by Alberto Giacometti (the artist best known for his tall, skinny sculptures, mostly of women); and the National Museum's collection of 18th century faience (Bob P., do you know what faience is?) and porcelain at the Guild House "zur Meisen")), and to discover Truffe, which has now taken over first place on the list of best places to get hot chocolate. Truffe, however, requires an asterisk, because the chocolate used by the proprietress is from Italy! It also requires an asterisk as a warning to those who might find the concoction just too overwhelming. Imagine a cup filled with warm, dark chocolate, and just a tiny bit of milk to help melt the chocolate.
Other Beth also encouraged shopping for Swiss goods with a more lasting quality, i.e., jewelry. Conveniently situated virtually next door to Truffe was a jewelry store, which offered pieces made by a number of Swiss artisans. By Zurich standards, many of the pieces were almost reasonably priced, at least reasonable enough for several purchases. I had more success (or should I say, did more damage?) than Beth, but her lapse was merely temporary, as she worked hard to make up for it in Barcelona. Needless to say, we could not permit Beth to leave Zurich without being treated to our hausgemachte fondue, and while we were at it, we got our friend, Rod, to join in the party.
Henry made it to Spain the day before Beth and me, having accepted an offer from a former post-doc to visit Madrid for a couple of days and give a talk at the University. When I asked Henry his impressions of Madrid, he commented that after reading so many warnings to be wary of pickpockets, he directed so much attention to watching his wallet that he was unable to enjoy himself! Beth and I, on the other hand, had nine days to work through any pickpocket anxieties we might have had in Barcelona, where the warnings are even more prevalent.
The best move Beth and I made in our copious (NOT!) pre-trip planning was to rent a two-bedroom, two bathroom apartment for our Barcelona stay. We not only spent a lot less on the apartment than we would have for a hotel room (we easily made up the difference, and more, through our fine dining choices), but we had room to spread out and avoid getting into each other's space as we grumbled through a continuous flow of rain. Unfortunately, the rain in Spain does NOT stay mainly on the plain! With just one or two days of no rain at all, we heard a regular refrain from Barcelonan shop/restaurant proprietors that the rainy weather and cooler temperatures were "unusual". Yes, it was unusual that we should rate a weather forecast of "light rain, 60%" as a major improvement over "rain, 80%" or "heavy rain, 70%". In any event, it is amazing how the city takes on an entirely new flavor when the skies are clear and the outdoor cafe and restaurant tables are filled with happy customers who can relax over a glass of tinto (red wine) and read their newspapers, tour books, or whatever, and/or just watch the throngs of people (overwhelmingly young) promenading along the popular thoroughfares (e.g., La Rambla, Passeig de Gracia, Gran Via Corts Catalanes) and walking the narrow streets in the Barri Gotic and El Born.
Museums and rain are generally a good combination, as long as too many people do not act on that same sentiment. Actually, the museums would have been crowded with or without the rain. As the taxi driver who brought us to our apartment was trying to tell us, our time in Barcelona apparently coincided with a special period when school groups take museum and other cultural tours. Given that our Spanish language skills are meager and our Catalan language skills are non-existent, we did not figure out what the driver was telling us until we came upon the hoards of school-age kids just about everywhere we turned. Of course, the fact that our trip overlapped with the first half of Semana Santa (Holy Week) also brought out the crowds. Although "high season" starts with Holy Week, I cannot imagine what the streets, outdoor cafes, and tourist sites are like 2-3 months from now, when the tourists descend. Well, maybe I will be able to imagine it, as we will face the same phenomenon 2-3 months from now in Munich!
Beth and I made another wise move (thank you for the tip, Rick Steves, Fodors, and Lonely Planet) by purchasing an "Articket Card", which provided entrance into a number of museums for a single price. Not only did we save the difference in price for individual admission tickets, it allowed us to bypass the long ticket lines at each location. The Catalan Art Museum was the museum highlight--its Romanesque collection was outstanding, particularly the frescoes transferred from their original sites to individual custom-made vaults. I also enjoyed the Maritime Museum, with its display of vessel models (Columbus' and Magellan's ships included), and the Miro Museum. On the other hand, the Picasso Museum was a disappointment, with certain of Picasso's "periods" entirely unrepresented.
We also wisely used T10 transportation cards, instead of the tourist Barcelona Card (which might be more worth it if we were in Barcelona for only 3 or 4 days, not interspersing side trips out of the city, and not bothering to walk anywhere). We could share the T10 card (10 metro/bus/train trips within Barcelona), saving about half the price of single trip tickets, and it meshed with our level of public transportation usage (walking a lot not only gave us an opportunity to "feel" the neighborhoods, but also allowed us not to worry about caloric intake as we savored tapas, paella, helado (ice cream), and tinto). Thank you for the T10 tip, Sara Abarbanel, who breezed through Barcelona in December!
Barcelona stands out as a city blessed (or stricken, depending on one's taste) with a panoply of edifices designed by Modernista (Catalan Art Nouveau) architects during the late 19th century and early 20th century. A number of them are located in the Eixample area of the city and within walking distance of our apartment. The most famous of the Modernista architects was Antonio Gaudi (the origin of the word "gaudy", perhaps?). These architects moved away from square edges and straight lines. Gaudi, in particular, was a big fan of decorative bright-colored mosaics, which can be viewed in the Park Guell and on the rounded chimneys of the Palau Guell. Gaudi worked on his signature project, the Sagrada Familia (the Holy Family Church), for over 40 years, until his death in 1926. Even today, it remains unfinished, but a hefty admission fee helps pay the cost of the private efforts at completion. Although the architecture incorporates some fascinating ideas (e.g., slanted columns in the nave), I frankly do not "get" the appeal of the towers than look to me like oozing cement! The most impressive of the Modernista style buildings is the Catalan Concert Hall (Palau de la Musica Catalana), which was designed by Lluis Domenech i Muntaner. The tour of the interior was well worth it, especially considering that we did not attend an actual concert (though our tour guide had to compete with the piano tuner). The most fabulous element of the building is its stained glass domed roof, installed in place, piece by piece (much too big to complete at a separate location, then install en masse).
Catalonians are extremely proud of their heritage (Take THAT, Francisco Franco!), and this was especially demonstrated on Palm Sunday, when their yellow and red striped flags hung in full array. When we visited one of the old cathedrals, rows of the yellow and red dress of the Catalonian guards, with armor included, were carefully laid out in faithful tribute. The tour guide at the Catalan Concert Hall also kept emphasizing that all work performed on the concert hall was by Catalan artists. Whenever I asked a question, he appeared to assume I doubted the ability of the "natives" to complete the impressive edifice and decoration, and turned each response into a proclamation of Catalonian ingenuity and quality.
Three other Barcelona highlights are worth mentioning. One was our visit to the "magic" fountains between the Catalan Art Museum in the Park Montjuic and the Placa d'Espanya. On Friday and Saturday evenings, for about two hours, the fountains "dance" to all sorts of music, from classical to modern. The "performance" brought out the crowds, leaving little room on the steps heading down from the museum and on the sides of the fountains away from the wind. The second was our visit to the oldest synagogue in Europe, in the Jewish quarter of Old Town Barcelona. The remains themselves are not as impressive as the proclamation inscribed on one of the walls when the site was reopened just a few years ago. The proclamation commemorates over 1000 years of Jewish prayer in Barcelona (presumably including prayer by Marranos (Jews forced to convert to Christianity, but who continued to practice Judaism in secret)). The third was La Boqueria, a huge covered marketplace, with row upon row of stalls filled with fresh fruits, vegetables, meats, fish, cheeses, nuts, candies, drinks, and countless other “treats”, including entire suckling pigs!
Our out-of-town day trips took us to Sitges (a seaside town about a half hour south of Barcelona; small, but pleasant, old town, Museu Romantic, and delightful beach promenade); Girona (about an hour north of Barcelona; pretty old town, with architectural remnants of the Jewish community, ancient Arab baths, and restored, walkable ramparts surrounding the old town); and Montserrat (a mountaintop monastery about an hour and a half northwest of Barcelona). The monastery has been through a number of incarnations over the past one thousand years, but the setting is its most striking aspect. The options for getting to the monastery are switchbacks by car/bus, a cable car, or a rack railway up the steep cliffs. Two other funiculars, with 55-65% inclines, take visitors to hiking trails leading to old hermit chapels and caves. One trail is adorned with 12 religious statues created by various Modernista artists. We also listened to the boys' choir perform in the basilica of the monastery, as we watched a long line of "pilgrims" pass by the Black Madonna and touch her "royal orb". The dulcet tones of the choir capped off a delightful day.
Beth and I easily acclimated to the Spanish custom of eating lunch after 1PM, but we never got used to waiting until 9PM for dinner. Tapas restaurants mercifully opened early enough for us to dine on tapas with beer or tinto, but we really pushed the envelope at a couple of restaurants when we arrived for dinner at 8:30PM! Our especially memorable meals included:
1. Dinner at Manairo, a Michelin one-star restaurant in "outer" Eixample, just a block and a half from our apartment: Every morsel of the nine-course (yes, small portions of each) menu meal was mouthwateringly wonderful. We are not entirely sure what we ate, even after obtaining from the maitre d' a list of dishes. For example, the meal started with two spoonfuls of items described on the list as "amuse bush". Had he written the proper "amuse bouche", we still would not know what they were!
2. Dinner at Tragaluz, in Eixample: Delicious food and a fantasy garden built into a greenhouse window off the dining room on the second floor of the building. We left pleasantly sated, rather than stuffed.
3. Dinner at Loidi, in Eixample: Another "menu" meal. Excellent food at a relatively reasonable price!
4. Dinner at El Yantar de la Ribera, in "outer" Eixample, just a few blocks from our apartment: This was our last dinner in Barcelona. We were disappointed that several of our choices for dinner that night were closed for Semana Santa, but our concern turned to good fortune. We feasted on specially seasoned lamb chops grilled in a rounded hearth oven.
5. Tapas at La Tramoia and Cerveceria Catalana, both in Eixample
6. Lunch (le menu) at Oleum, located in the Catalan Art Museum
7. Lunch at Rincon de Pepe in Sitges
Although I spent several days after my return to Zurich on a sick bed, the trip to Barcelona was a big success. Best of all, Beth and I are still great friends!! Thanks, Other Beth!
Other Beth also encouraged shopping for Swiss goods with a more lasting quality, i.e., jewelry. Conveniently situated virtually next door to Truffe was a jewelry store, which offered pieces made by a number of Swiss artisans. By Zurich standards, many of the pieces were almost reasonably priced, at least reasonable enough for several purchases. I had more success (or should I say, did more damage?) than Beth, but her lapse was merely temporary, as she worked hard to make up for it in Barcelona. Needless to say, we could not permit Beth to leave Zurich without being treated to our hausgemachte fondue, and while we were at it, we got our friend, Rod, to join in the party.
Henry made it to Spain the day before Beth and me, having accepted an offer from a former post-doc to visit Madrid for a couple of days and give a talk at the University. When I asked Henry his impressions of Madrid, he commented that after reading so many warnings to be wary of pickpockets, he directed so much attention to watching his wallet that he was unable to enjoy himself! Beth and I, on the other hand, had nine days to work through any pickpocket anxieties we might have had in Barcelona, where the warnings are even more prevalent.
The best move Beth and I made in our copious (NOT!) pre-trip planning was to rent a two-bedroom, two bathroom apartment for our Barcelona stay. We not only spent a lot less on the apartment than we would have for a hotel room (we easily made up the difference, and more, through our fine dining choices), but we had room to spread out and avoid getting into each other's space as we grumbled through a continuous flow of rain. Unfortunately, the rain in Spain does NOT stay mainly on the plain! With just one or two days of no rain at all, we heard a regular refrain from Barcelonan shop/restaurant proprietors that the rainy weather and cooler temperatures were "unusual". Yes, it was unusual that we should rate a weather forecast of "light rain, 60%" as a major improvement over "rain, 80%" or "heavy rain, 70%". In any event, it is amazing how the city takes on an entirely new flavor when the skies are clear and the outdoor cafe and restaurant tables are filled with happy customers who can relax over a glass of tinto (red wine) and read their newspapers, tour books, or whatever, and/or just watch the throngs of people (overwhelmingly young) promenading along the popular thoroughfares (e.g., La Rambla, Passeig de Gracia, Gran Via Corts Catalanes) and walking the narrow streets in the Barri Gotic and El Born.
Museums and rain are generally a good combination, as long as too many people do not act on that same sentiment. Actually, the museums would have been crowded with or without the rain. As the taxi driver who brought us to our apartment was trying to tell us, our time in Barcelona apparently coincided with a special period when school groups take museum and other cultural tours. Given that our Spanish language skills are meager and our Catalan language skills are non-existent, we did not figure out what the driver was telling us until we came upon the hoards of school-age kids just about everywhere we turned. Of course, the fact that our trip overlapped with the first half of Semana Santa (Holy Week) also brought out the crowds. Although "high season" starts with Holy Week, I cannot imagine what the streets, outdoor cafes, and tourist sites are like 2-3 months from now, when the tourists descend. Well, maybe I will be able to imagine it, as we will face the same phenomenon 2-3 months from now in Munich!
Beth and I made another wise move (thank you for the tip, Rick Steves, Fodors, and Lonely Planet) by purchasing an "Articket Card", which provided entrance into a number of museums for a single price. Not only did we save the difference in price for individual admission tickets, it allowed us to bypass the long ticket lines at each location. The Catalan Art Museum was the museum highlight--its Romanesque collection was outstanding, particularly the frescoes transferred from their original sites to individual custom-made vaults. I also enjoyed the Maritime Museum, with its display of vessel models (Columbus' and Magellan's ships included), and the Miro Museum. On the other hand, the Picasso Museum was a disappointment, with certain of Picasso's "periods" entirely unrepresented.
We also wisely used T10 transportation cards, instead of the tourist Barcelona Card (which might be more worth it if we were in Barcelona for only 3 or 4 days, not interspersing side trips out of the city, and not bothering to walk anywhere). We could share the T10 card (10 metro/bus/train trips within Barcelona), saving about half the price of single trip tickets, and it meshed with our level of public transportation usage (walking a lot not only gave us an opportunity to "feel" the neighborhoods, but also allowed us not to worry about caloric intake as we savored tapas, paella, helado (ice cream), and tinto). Thank you for the T10 tip, Sara Abarbanel, who breezed through Barcelona in December!
Barcelona stands out as a city blessed (or stricken, depending on one's taste) with a panoply of edifices designed by Modernista (Catalan Art Nouveau) architects during the late 19th century and early 20th century. A number of them are located in the Eixample area of the city and within walking distance of our apartment. The most famous of the Modernista architects was Antonio Gaudi (the origin of the word "gaudy", perhaps?). These architects moved away from square edges and straight lines. Gaudi, in particular, was a big fan of decorative bright-colored mosaics, which can be viewed in the Park Guell and on the rounded chimneys of the Palau Guell. Gaudi worked on his signature project, the Sagrada Familia (the Holy Family Church), for over 40 years, until his death in 1926. Even today, it remains unfinished, but a hefty admission fee helps pay the cost of the private efforts at completion. Although the architecture incorporates some fascinating ideas (e.g., slanted columns in the nave), I frankly do not "get" the appeal of the towers than look to me like oozing cement! The most impressive of the Modernista style buildings is the Catalan Concert Hall (Palau de la Musica Catalana), which was designed by Lluis Domenech i Muntaner. The tour of the interior was well worth it, especially considering that we did not attend an actual concert (though our tour guide had to compete with the piano tuner). The most fabulous element of the building is its stained glass domed roof, installed in place, piece by piece (much too big to complete at a separate location, then install en masse).
Catalonians are extremely proud of their heritage (Take THAT, Francisco Franco!), and this was especially demonstrated on Palm Sunday, when their yellow and red striped flags hung in full array. When we visited one of the old cathedrals, rows of the yellow and red dress of the Catalonian guards, with armor included, were carefully laid out in faithful tribute. The tour guide at the Catalan Concert Hall also kept emphasizing that all work performed on the concert hall was by Catalan artists. Whenever I asked a question, he appeared to assume I doubted the ability of the "natives" to complete the impressive edifice and decoration, and turned each response into a proclamation of Catalonian ingenuity and quality.
Three other Barcelona highlights are worth mentioning. One was our visit to the "magic" fountains between the Catalan Art Museum in the Park Montjuic and the Placa d'Espanya. On Friday and Saturday evenings, for about two hours, the fountains "dance" to all sorts of music, from classical to modern. The "performance" brought out the crowds, leaving little room on the steps heading down from the museum and on the sides of the fountains away from the wind. The second was our visit to the oldest synagogue in Europe, in the Jewish quarter of Old Town Barcelona. The remains themselves are not as impressive as the proclamation inscribed on one of the walls when the site was reopened just a few years ago. The proclamation commemorates over 1000 years of Jewish prayer in Barcelona (presumably including prayer by Marranos (Jews forced to convert to Christianity, but who continued to practice Judaism in secret)). The third was La Boqueria, a huge covered marketplace, with row upon row of stalls filled with fresh fruits, vegetables, meats, fish, cheeses, nuts, candies, drinks, and countless other “treats”, including entire suckling pigs!
Our out-of-town day trips took us to Sitges (a seaside town about a half hour south of Barcelona; small, but pleasant, old town, Museu Romantic, and delightful beach promenade); Girona (about an hour north of Barcelona; pretty old town, with architectural remnants of the Jewish community, ancient Arab baths, and restored, walkable ramparts surrounding the old town); and Montserrat (a mountaintop monastery about an hour and a half northwest of Barcelona). The monastery has been through a number of incarnations over the past one thousand years, but the setting is its most striking aspect. The options for getting to the monastery are switchbacks by car/bus, a cable car, or a rack railway up the steep cliffs. Two other funiculars, with 55-65% inclines, take visitors to hiking trails leading to old hermit chapels and caves. One trail is adorned with 12 religious statues created by various Modernista artists. We also listened to the boys' choir perform in the basilica of the monastery, as we watched a long line of "pilgrims" pass by the Black Madonna and touch her "royal orb". The dulcet tones of the choir capped off a delightful day.
Beth and I easily acclimated to the Spanish custom of eating lunch after 1PM, but we never got used to waiting until 9PM for dinner. Tapas restaurants mercifully opened early enough for us to dine on tapas with beer or tinto, but we really pushed the envelope at a couple of restaurants when we arrived for dinner at 8:30PM! Our especially memorable meals included:
1. Dinner at Manairo, a Michelin one-star restaurant in "outer" Eixample, just a block and a half from our apartment: Every morsel of the nine-course (yes, small portions of each) menu meal was mouthwateringly wonderful. We are not entirely sure what we ate, even after obtaining from the maitre d' a list of dishes. For example, the meal started with two spoonfuls of items described on the list as "amuse bush". Had he written the proper "amuse bouche", we still would not know what they were!
2. Dinner at Tragaluz, in Eixample: Delicious food and a fantasy garden built into a greenhouse window off the dining room on the second floor of the building. We left pleasantly sated, rather than stuffed.
3. Dinner at Loidi, in Eixample: Another "menu" meal. Excellent food at a relatively reasonable price!
4. Dinner at El Yantar de la Ribera, in "outer" Eixample, just a few blocks from our apartment: This was our last dinner in Barcelona. We were disappointed that several of our choices for dinner that night were closed for Semana Santa, but our concern turned to good fortune. We feasted on specially seasoned lamb chops grilled in a rounded hearth oven.
5. Tapas at La Tramoia and Cerveceria Catalana, both in Eixample
6. Lunch (le menu) at Oleum, located in the Catalan Art Museum
7. Lunch at Rincon de Pepe in Sitges
Although I spent several days after my return to Zurich on a sick bed, the trip to Barcelona was a big success. Best of all, Beth and I are still great friends!! Thanks, Other Beth!
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Visits to and fro
The last ten days have been ones of comings and goings. We had the pleasure of Sara's company for five wonderful days. More accurately, I had that pleasure for five days and Henry had it for half of that in situ and half in absentia (he had a meeting in Frankfort). Sleep and laundry took the top spots on Sara's agenda, but catching up with us was not far behind. She allowed us to wine and dine her and to show her a few more Zurich sites which she could not see during her short visit here over New Year's. The main attractions were a boat ride on the Zurich See, outdoor (and semi-indoor) markets, and a visit to the Lindt-Sprungli chocolate factory. Sara definitely brought the sunshine with her, both literally (we haven't had so many consecutive decent weather days before or since) and figuratively (her smile can light up any space, especially ours--as my father used to say, she was "a sight for sore eyes"!). Even though Sara was concerned that our hausgemachte fondue would taste the same as she remembered from having cheese fondue when she was six years old, i.e., like American Swiss cheese (the kind with the big holes, which Sara abhors--not the holes, but the stuff around the holes), this time our fondue was once again a big hit! (Fondue may well end up being the thing we will miss most when we move from Switzerland to Germany!) While Henry was away (this way, he did not have to feel bad about being dragged along or feel bad about choosing not joining us), Sara and I attended a dance performance called "Rock the Ballet"--modern ballet accompanied by songs sung by Queen and Michael Jackson, among others. The dancers, six men and one woman, were fantastic--they were unbelievably athletic, limber, and graceful.
Sara is now back in the US, after 7 months abroad. Prior to her departure from Zurich, she was more concerned with culture shock than with the fact that she remains displaced because our house is rented. Also, when she returns to school in Chicago, she will have to switch mental gears from German and French back to Hebrew, which she studied during her first two years of college and will continue this spring. As Sara is wont to say, "she'll figure it out." Hopefully, winter will be sufficiently over in Chicago (sometimes, it's not over until May), so that her reconnection with the US will be somewhat eased.
I seized the opportunity to switch language gears when Henry and I left for Lausanne just a few hours after Sara departed. It helped that Sara left her French dictionary with us. Last Friday, Henry gave a talk at the Lausanne version of the federal technical institute that Henry is visiting in Zurich. I spent the day taking in museums that did not exist when I was last in Lausanne, nearly 40 years ago. The headquarters of the International Olympic Committee is in Lausanne, so as a world sports fan (well, maybe not curling, biathlon (cross-country skiing and shooting), and cricket), I ventured off to the Olympic Museum, which is in a park overlooking Lake Geneva. I very much enjoyed a view of Olympic history without the mostly American-only perspective displayed on television by NBC. However, that did not stop me from using one of two free (included with the cost of admission) video clips from their library to watch one of my all-time favorite figure skaters, American Paul Wylie, skate to a silver medal in the 1992 Winter Olympics (probably only my two daughters will get a chuckle from that--sorry, an inside joke that would take too long to explain!). The other was of the men's track sprints in the 1968 Summer Olympics which caused an uproar among US Olympic Committee members when two US medal winners gave a black gloved Black Power salute on the medal stand while the national anthem was played. Once again, the running commentary was not NBC, and thus far more matter-of-fact. While in the park, I stopped at another museum, which displayed an exhibition of photographs of Los Angeles, from 1865 to 2008. What was particularly fascinating was the thematic manner of the display, e.g., Los Angeles, the Dream; Los Angeles, the nightmare; Los Angeles, the sun and beach; Los Angeles, reality or fiction; and so on. The third museum I visited, Collection de l'Art Brut, was the most interesting. The collection truly is a demonstration of the age old question--what makes something art? Personally, I don't see how a canvass of white paint is "art." This museum presents its revolving collection of works by individuals who generally have had no formal art training and tend not to be influenced by cultural expectations or directives. Many have produced their works while confined in mental institutions. They often use what materials they find around them, be it pencils, wood, or dried grass. One artist might have a fixation with numbers, while another might have a fixation with the most intricate of doodles.
On Saturday and Sunday, I had to step up my French speaking skills as we spent the rest of weekend having reunions with members of the French Swiss family who hosted me on their farm for six weeks during the summer of 1970. After nearly 3 months with German surrounding me, I was finally "in my element." Madame Goldfrank (Mamaroneck HS French teacher) would have been proud of me, but it's just as well she didn't hear me--when I couldn't think of the correct word or conjugation, I made it up! Whatever, I was well understood and could carry the load for those family members who did not speak English. As is the case when I try to speak German (when I can't think of the word in German, I automatically go first to the French word), the same happened in reverse when trying to speak French. By the time we arrived back in Zurich on Sunday evening, I was exhausted from the language gymnastics! Nevertheless, it was a wonderful time had by all, culminating with a genuine home-grown Sunday meal on the farm--chicken, potatoes, raspberries, and schnapps. We hope some of the family will come for a visit in Munich!
With just a few days before the upcoming arrival of our next guest, Beth Jay, I managed one more day of skiing--a day trip to Flumserberg. Among the various ski areas to which I have traveled this winter, this one is definitely the most convenient by train from Zurich. I was able to get up at a sane hour and still arrive at the gondola by 9:30AM. The snow (on the ground, that is) was wonderful, but it snowed all day. That in itself was not a problem. Rather, it was the wind that repeatedly gusted so hard I could barely push myself down the slopes in some spots. One benefit of the weather conditions was that there was barely anyone on the mountain. Therefore, even if I couldn't see, I didn't have to worry about running into anyone!! In the afternoon, I discovered an identifiable trail with trees on both sides (no, none in the middle like at many American ski areas). It was great--I could not only see, but no one else was on it. Maybe with all of the wide open slopes that make up most of the ski areas I've now been to in Switzerland, Swiss skiers haven't figured out that the visibility is far better when skiing next to the trees, not to mention that it is far less windy! I finally gave up when I started getting nervous on the lifts--even the gondolas were swaying in the wind! Had this been the US, I imagine the lifts, other than T-bars, would have been closed hours earlier due to the heavy winds.
Okay, back to my German language adventures. While riding the train to my skiing destination, I tried to work on my German by reading one of the many free daily newspapers. I came across a fine example of how German words sometimes grow to ridiculous lengths-Doppelbesteuerngsabkommens, which takes three words to translate into English--double taxation agreements (I think!).
Gotta clean up for our next house guest!
Sara is now back in the US, after 7 months abroad. Prior to her departure from Zurich, she was more concerned with culture shock than with the fact that she remains displaced because our house is rented. Also, when she returns to school in Chicago, she will have to switch mental gears from German and French back to Hebrew, which she studied during her first two years of college and will continue this spring. As Sara is wont to say, "she'll figure it out." Hopefully, winter will be sufficiently over in Chicago (sometimes, it's not over until May), so that her reconnection with the US will be somewhat eased.
I seized the opportunity to switch language gears when Henry and I left for Lausanne just a few hours after Sara departed. It helped that Sara left her French dictionary with us. Last Friday, Henry gave a talk at the Lausanne version of the federal technical institute that Henry is visiting in Zurich. I spent the day taking in museums that did not exist when I was last in Lausanne, nearly 40 years ago. The headquarters of the International Olympic Committee is in Lausanne, so as a world sports fan (well, maybe not curling, biathlon (cross-country skiing and shooting), and cricket), I ventured off to the Olympic Museum, which is in a park overlooking Lake Geneva. I very much enjoyed a view of Olympic history without the mostly American-only perspective displayed on television by NBC. However, that did not stop me from using one of two free (included with the cost of admission) video clips from their library to watch one of my all-time favorite figure skaters, American Paul Wylie, skate to a silver medal in the 1992 Winter Olympics (probably only my two daughters will get a chuckle from that--sorry, an inside joke that would take too long to explain!). The other was of the men's track sprints in the 1968 Summer Olympics which caused an uproar among US Olympic Committee members when two US medal winners gave a black gloved Black Power salute on the medal stand while the national anthem was played. Once again, the running commentary was not NBC, and thus far more matter-of-fact. While in the park, I stopped at another museum, which displayed an exhibition of photographs of Los Angeles, from 1865 to 2008. What was particularly fascinating was the thematic manner of the display, e.g., Los Angeles, the Dream; Los Angeles, the nightmare; Los Angeles, the sun and beach; Los Angeles, reality or fiction; and so on. The third museum I visited, Collection de l'Art Brut, was the most interesting. The collection truly is a demonstration of the age old question--what makes something art? Personally, I don't see how a canvass of white paint is "art." This museum presents its revolving collection of works by individuals who generally have had no formal art training and tend not to be influenced by cultural expectations or directives. Many have produced their works while confined in mental institutions. They often use what materials they find around them, be it pencils, wood, or dried grass. One artist might have a fixation with numbers, while another might have a fixation with the most intricate of doodles.
On Saturday and Sunday, I had to step up my French speaking skills as we spent the rest of weekend having reunions with members of the French Swiss family who hosted me on their farm for six weeks during the summer of 1970. After nearly 3 months with German surrounding me, I was finally "in my element." Madame Goldfrank (Mamaroneck HS French teacher) would have been proud of me, but it's just as well she didn't hear me--when I couldn't think of the correct word or conjugation, I made it up! Whatever, I was well understood and could carry the load for those family members who did not speak English. As is the case when I try to speak German (when I can't think of the word in German, I automatically go first to the French word), the same happened in reverse when trying to speak French. By the time we arrived back in Zurich on Sunday evening, I was exhausted from the language gymnastics! Nevertheless, it was a wonderful time had by all, culminating with a genuine home-grown Sunday meal on the farm--chicken, potatoes, raspberries, and schnapps. We hope some of the family will come for a visit in Munich!
With just a few days before the upcoming arrival of our next guest, Beth Jay, I managed one more day of skiing--a day trip to Flumserberg. Among the various ski areas to which I have traveled this winter, this one is definitely the most convenient by train from Zurich. I was able to get up at a sane hour and still arrive at the gondola by 9:30AM. The snow (on the ground, that is) was wonderful, but it snowed all day. That in itself was not a problem. Rather, it was the wind that repeatedly gusted so hard I could barely push myself down the slopes in some spots. One benefit of the weather conditions was that there was barely anyone on the mountain. Therefore, even if I couldn't see, I didn't have to worry about running into anyone!! In the afternoon, I discovered an identifiable trail with trees on both sides (no, none in the middle like at many American ski areas). It was great--I could not only see, but no one else was on it. Maybe with all of the wide open slopes that make up most of the ski areas I've now been to in Switzerland, Swiss skiers haven't figured out that the visibility is far better when skiing next to the trees, not to mention that it is far less windy! I finally gave up when I started getting nervous on the lifts--even the gondolas were swaying in the wind! Had this been the US, I imagine the lifts, other than T-bars, would have been closed hours earlier due to the heavy winds.
Okay, back to my German language adventures. While riding the train to my skiing destination, I tried to work on my German by reading one of the many free daily newspapers. I came across a fine example of how German words sometimes grow to ridiculous lengths-Doppelbesteuerngsabkommens, which takes three words to translate into English--double taxation agreements (I think!).
Gotta clean up for our next house guest!
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Catching up
We had a few days of "this and that" before our next visitors, Linda and Marc, arrived. We held back on fondue until we could share it with Linda and Marc, but we did seek out and find several good restaurants. One was Mama Leoni's, which was not too far from the Reform Synagogue (one of only two in Switzerland--most others appear to be Orthodox) at which we attended services. The restaurant was a Michelin Red pick, and, as usual, Michelin was on target. Yes, it's another Italian restaurant, but Zurich, not to mention southeastern Switzerland (where Italian is the main language), has lots of them.
We finally had sun and relative warmth in Zurich on Saturday. We walked along Lake Zurich and the Limmat River (which flows through the city), and enjoyed seeing the many cafe tables and chairs fill the sidewalks. Even better, people were leisurely imbibing their cappuccinos, beers, bottled waters, etc. and savoring sweet offerings as they, too, took in the sun's rays. Benches line the river banks and they were filled as well. As we strolled, we witnessed our first Swiss protest march (equal rights for women, we think, but perhaps it was a march for whoever wanted to protest). We couldn't quite figure out the common theme among the various placards and flags. In any event, between the relatively sedate marchers and the limited, though visible, police presence, it was almost a non-event for those of us who remain somewhat German language challenged.
On Sunday, we met up with our Del Mar friend, Rod (who lives in Einsiedeln), and headed for real warmth, i.e., south of the St. Gotthard pass. We found more sun and warmth at Lake Maggiore. The train from Zurich was packed--not just with the skiers who exited the train near the Pass, but with many others heading for warmer weather. According to Rod, this weekend exodus continues to grow into the summer. We left the well-beaten path at Locarno and went just a few kilometers south to Ascona. We found another excellent restaurant at the edge of Lake Maggiore, where we discarded our jackets, (at least I) rubbed in the SPF 50 sunblock, and had a three-hour lunch (more so because, for whatever reason, the waiter apparently had no interest in "turning over the table" than because we insisted upon lingering). The setting was perfect. The only oddity was the sharp contrast between the restaurant staff's leisurely pace and the doggedness of a group of new customers who "seized" our table. When we stood up from the table and as the waiter disappeared inside to run the credit card, the new customers swarmed in out of nowhere and sat down at the table before we had the credit card back and our belongings collected, and before the table was cleaned and re-set. When the waiter returned with the receipt, he was appalled to see that the table was already re-occupied. I can only imagine what the waiter thought, but given that restaurant and cafe proprietors in this culture show no apparent concern over a customer nursing a coffee or other beverage for what could be hours, the waiter most assuredly thought the new customers had rather bad form!
As if on schedule, the cold and rain/snow returned after the weekend. Undeterred, I took a short trip to St. Gallen, wandered through the old town (just about every Swiss city has an "old town", but some have more tourist oriented shops than others), visited a few museums, a couple of churches, and the abbey library, and had lunch at Am Gallusplatz (another Michelin Red recommended restaurant). At the end of the 19th century, 50% of the world's textile production came from St. Gallen. The city is still known for its lovely embroideries. A special quilt exhibit was the highlight of my visit to the city's textile museum. As our friend, Rod, predicted, the city's main cathedral, which is known for its ornate interior, did not hold a candle to the over-the-top rococo decoration of the monastery in Einsiedeln. The abbey library, on the other hand, was very impressive, not only for its rococo interior, but even more so for its wonderful collection of "ancient" books dating as far back as the 700's. Because the wood, parquet floor is also somewhat of a spectacle (but nowhere close to as impressive as the walls and ceiling), all visitors are required to don slippers before entering the library. I couldn't get myself out of the city until I had a hot chocolate made with 70% cocoa. It was definitely the best hot chocolate I had ever tasted--at least until later in the week, when Marc, Linda, and I happened upon a shop called "Chocomotion". The hot chocolate cost almost twice as much as in St. Gallen (no surprise--Zurich is one of the most expensive cities in Europe), but it easily took the top spot on my hot chocolate list!
Linda and Marc got our personalized meandering tour of Zurich, which of course featured our hausgemachte fondue. We also had good enough weather (but not quite good enough for Henry, who stayed home and worked and/or dreamt equations) to take a boat ride on Lake Zurich. While it was still a bit overcast and chilly on the water, we enjoyed the scenery perfectly well from a spot inside the cabin. Linda and Marc rented a car on Friday, and I joined them on a drive to Bern, the capital of Switzerland. Zentrum Paul Klee, which houses several thousand works by Swiss native son, Paul Klee, was our first stop. One of the fascinating aspects of this relatively new museum (which would comply with the ADA in the US!) is the use of movable exhibit walls. As the exhibit themes change and the curators periodically switch out portions of the Klee collection, the walls can easily be moved to accommodate different display designs. Following the recommendations of the clerk at the museum information desk (despite the friendly ridicule I receive from the rest of my family for the frequency with which I stop at information booths, "the 'i's' have it", and this one was well worth the stop), we strolled to a park overlooking the Aare River and Bern's old town and had lunch at the Rosegarten Restaurant at the top of the hill. We continued our stroll across the Aare and through the old town. Along the way, we visited the famous "Bernese Bear" which is housed in a large pit at the river's edge. "Ba(umlaut)rn means "bear". The duke who created the city in the late 12th century decided to give it the name of the first animal killed on his hunt in the area. The bear is also featured on the canton's flag. Frankly, the bear looked bedraggled and both looked and was imprisoned. Poor bear! Although Bern's old town is very commercial, the highlight is the 15th to 17th century clock tower, where mechanized figurines put on a little performance every hour.
Speaking of clocks, I also visited Zurich's very interesting clock and watch museum. Actually, it's the Beyer family's private collection. Clocks and watches from ancient times until the 20th century are on display. Some are extremely ornate, while others are noteworthy in their simple precision. No, folks, there are no Casio digital watches in the collection!
It has been wonderful having guests, despite the extra laundry and cleaning chores, and we look forward to Sara's arrival tonight. Abroad since the end of August 2008, she is stopping in Zurich to sleep and do laundry. We will accept as much parent-daughter bonding as Sara is willing to offer, and visa versa.
We finally had sun and relative warmth in Zurich on Saturday. We walked along Lake Zurich and the Limmat River (which flows through the city), and enjoyed seeing the many cafe tables and chairs fill the sidewalks. Even better, people were leisurely imbibing their cappuccinos, beers, bottled waters, etc. and savoring sweet offerings as they, too, took in the sun's rays. Benches line the river banks and they were filled as well. As we strolled, we witnessed our first Swiss protest march (equal rights for women, we think, but perhaps it was a march for whoever wanted to protest). We couldn't quite figure out the common theme among the various placards and flags. In any event, between the relatively sedate marchers and the limited, though visible, police presence, it was almost a non-event for those of us who remain somewhat German language challenged.
On Sunday, we met up with our Del Mar friend, Rod (who lives in Einsiedeln), and headed for real warmth, i.e., south of the St. Gotthard pass. We found more sun and warmth at Lake Maggiore. The train from Zurich was packed--not just with the skiers who exited the train near the Pass, but with many others heading for warmer weather. According to Rod, this weekend exodus continues to grow into the summer. We left the well-beaten path at Locarno and went just a few kilometers south to Ascona. We found another excellent restaurant at the edge of Lake Maggiore, where we discarded our jackets, (at least I) rubbed in the SPF 50 sunblock, and had a three-hour lunch (more so because, for whatever reason, the waiter apparently had no interest in "turning over the table" than because we insisted upon lingering). The setting was perfect. The only oddity was the sharp contrast between the restaurant staff's leisurely pace and the doggedness of a group of new customers who "seized" our table. When we stood up from the table and as the waiter disappeared inside to run the credit card, the new customers swarmed in out of nowhere and sat down at the table before we had the credit card back and our belongings collected, and before the table was cleaned and re-set. When the waiter returned with the receipt, he was appalled to see that the table was already re-occupied. I can only imagine what the waiter thought, but given that restaurant and cafe proprietors in this culture show no apparent concern over a customer nursing a coffee or other beverage for what could be hours, the waiter most assuredly thought the new customers had rather bad form!
As if on schedule, the cold and rain/snow returned after the weekend. Undeterred, I took a short trip to St. Gallen, wandered through the old town (just about every Swiss city has an "old town", but some have more tourist oriented shops than others), visited a few museums, a couple of churches, and the abbey library, and had lunch at Am Gallusplatz (another Michelin Red recommended restaurant). At the end of the 19th century, 50% of the world's textile production came from St. Gallen. The city is still known for its lovely embroideries. A special quilt exhibit was the highlight of my visit to the city's textile museum. As our friend, Rod, predicted, the city's main cathedral, which is known for its ornate interior, did not hold a candle to the over-the-top rococo decoration of the monastery in Einsiedeln. The abbey library, on the other hand, was very impressive, not only for its rococo interior, but even more so for its wonderful collection of "ancient" books dating as far back as the 700's. Because the wood, parquet floor is also somewhat of a spectacle (but nowhere close to as impressive as the walls and ceiling), all visitors are required to don slippers before entering the library. I couldn't get myself out of the city until I had a hot chocolate made with 70% cocoa. It was definitely the best hot chocolate I had ever tasted--at least until later in the week, when Marc, Linda, and I happened upon a shop called "Chocomotion". The hot chocolate cost almost twice as much as in St. Gallen (no surprise--Zurich is one of the most expensive cities in Europe), but it easily took the top spot on my hot chocolate list!
Linda and Marc got our personalized meandering tour of Zurich, which of course featured our hausgemachte fondue. We also had good enough weather (but not quite good enough for Henry, who stayed home and worked and/or dreamt equations) to take a boat ride on Lake Zurich. While it was still a bit overcast and chilly on the water, we enjoyed the scenery perfectly well from a spot inside the cabin. Linda and Marc rented a car on Friday, and I joined them on a drive to Bern, the capital of Switzerland. Zentrum Paul Klee, which houses several thousand works by Swiss native son, Paul Klee, was our first stop. One of the fascinating aspects of this relatively new museum (which would comply with the ADA in the US!) is the use of movable exhibit walls. As the exhibit themes change and the curators periodically switch out portions of the Klee collection, the walls can easily be moved to accommodate different display designs. Following the recommendations of the clerk at the museum information desk (despite the friendly ridicule I receive from the rest of my family for the frequency with which I stop at information booths, "the 'i's' have it", and this one was well worth the stop), we strolled to a park overlooking the Aare River and Bern's old town and had lunch at the Rosegarten Restaurant at the top of the hill. We continued our stroll across the Aare and through the old town. Along the way, we visited the famous "Bernese Bear" which is housed in a large pit at the river's edge. "Ba(umlaut)rn means "bear". The duke who created the city in the late 12th century decided to give it the name of the first animal killed on his hunt in the area. The bear is also featured on the canton's flag. Frankly, the bear looked bedraggled and both looked and was imprisoned. Poor bear! Although Bern's old town is very commercial, the highlight is the 15th to 17th century clock tower, where mechanized figurines put on a little performance every hour.
Speaking of clocks, I also visited Zurich's very interesting clock and watch museum. Actually, it's the Beyer family's private collection. Clocks and watches from ancient times until the 20th century are on display. Some are extremely ornate, while others are noteworthy in their simple precision. No, folks, there are no Casio digital watches in the collection!
It has been wonderful having guests, despite the extra laundry and cleaning chores, and we look forward to Sara's arrival tonight. Abroad since the end of August 2008, she is stopping in Zurich to sleep and do laundry. We will accept as much parent-daughter bonding as Sara is willing to offer, and visa versa.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Back to Blogging
Long time, no blog entries. Guests, skiing, and more guests have interfered, but certainly not unpleasantly. Indeed, we had delightful visits from one of Henry's sisters and two brothers-in-law, and I had three more good skiing days at Davos/Klosters.
Janice and Neil drove down from Berlin for a few days, where they have been visiting Janice's son, Ben. Any guests staying with us in Zurich for more than a day are treated to our "hausgemachte" fondue, served right from the stove (due to our lack of a fondue pot), and Janice and Neil were no exception. We have become regulars at the Mom and Pop cheese, wine, and mini-grocery store just up the street from our apartment. Henry and I are known to the owners as the couple that loves cheese fondue. While they grate and mix the number of grams of fondue cheese we want, we chat about this and that in an assortment of English, French, and German. In the process, I found out, for example, that Mom (of Mom and Pop) was a ski racer in her youth. Mom also makes wine recommendations and gives tastes from their array of cheeses. Generally, we leave the shop with our fondue mix, fondue wine, fondue bread, fondue garlic, and a fresh apple tossed in by Mom for her good customers.
Fortified by the fondue, Janice, Neil, Henry and I left the next morning for a lovely drive to Luzern and its wooden, covered bridges. We then drove along the edge of the Viervalstatter See (the lake at which Luzern sits), with striking mountain panoramas at every turn. Using a GPS, we were guided to the parking lot below the cable car that would take us to the mountain village/ski area at Stoos. As we entered the parking lot, the ever reliable GPS voice directed us to "now, take the ferry!" In a manner of speaking, the cable car "ferried" us up to Stoos. From there, we were afforded outstanding views of the mountain ranges surrounding us and a lunch of tagesuppe and the local brew on tap. One can rarely go wrong with that combination--company included!
Having the car certainly gave us flexibility in our excursion, but upon our return to Zurich, we were reminded of the reasons why many city folk do not own cars and they manage quite well with public transportation and plain old "fuss" power. We got stuck in rush hour traffic as we approached Zurich and then could not find a legal parking space (i.e., having a daily parking permit, which we had, and parking only within the blue lines painted here and there along the street--we've seen parking tickets on cars just inches outside the blue lines). Neil solved the latter problem by parking illegally in the alley next to our building, then watching from our apartment and sounding an alarm the moment he saw a driver heading toward one of the cars legally parked nearby. He rushed out to his car, yelling at Janice to come outside and stand in the now empty space to prevent any other cars from slithering in ahead of him. Janice saved the day (or at least the parking space) as Neil maneuvered in reverse to secure the space just ahead of another driver facing the same predicament. Now, whenever I see an empty parking space in front of our apartment, I want to contact Neil and Janice and watch them repeat their seamless performance!
No sooner did Janice and Neil leave (and laundry done) when brother-in-law Alan arrived for an overnight stay before returning to Berkeley. We were lucky with another mostly sunny day as we took Alan, via the funicular Rigiblick, for a hillside view of Zurich, the Zurich See and environs, and a pleasant walk home. We later discovered that Jimmy's Pizzeria, not very Swiss-sounding, but just a block away from our apartment, served very good food!
In a fashion reminiscent of Henry's and my years of heading off in different directions, just hours after Alan left for San Francisco, I took the train to Klosters Dorf and Henry flew to Vienna for a meeting. I lucked out with my choice of hotels and my timing of this ski adventure. As part of its service to its guests, the hotel offers a ski guide on Mondays and Tuesdays--the first two days of my three-day ski trip. Four of us (three gents--Brit, German, and Swiss--and me) signed on to ski with the guide. We skied together, without the guide, for the third day as well. With the exception of the guide, Ina, who skied like every run was a slalom race course (she had practice at Taos Ski Valley, having spent a high school year in Clovis, New Mexico, on an exchange program), we all skied at about the same level. Technique-wise, I was probably the best of the four (certainly on the few bumps we found), but the others had far more success keeping within seeing distance of Ina, even though two of them were 10-15 years my senior! Although I ate my meals with the Brit, whom I met when we were picked up at the train station by the hotel shuttle upon our initial arrival in Klosters Dorf, I took advantage of the many opportunities I had to speak German. I enjoyed chatting in German with the reception desk staff and with my German and Swiss skiing partners. The German, a dentist who grew up in what used to be East Germany (and dreaded studying Russian as the mandatory second language in school), spoke limited English. Although he insisted that my German was better than his English, we managed to communicate well enough. In any event, at the fast pace at which Ina skied, we managed to ski two of the five Davos/Klosters ski areas--Parsenn (by far the largest and having the best access from Klosters) and Jakobshorn (accessible from Davos). Among the highlights was the stop for spiked coffee (and in my case, hot chocolate) at one of the several mountain restaurants on our ski to the back door of our hotel. Another highlight was our tour through the igloo hotel on the slope near the top of Parsenn. No joke--you can spend between 150 and 500 Swiss Francs a night for the pleasure of staying in an igloo (sleeping bags and throne shaped (with snow) portable toilets included). Sauna, fondue dinner, and mulled wine are also offered. Our visit to Jakobshorn (reached by bus or train) confirmed the wisdom of my decision to stay in Klosters Dorf. Davos is a real city and has lost its mountain village quaintness. Not a big late-night carouser, I did not miss the see and be seen scene! We skied Parsenn again on the third day, but finished off with the 12km run from the top of the Parsenn area down to the village of Kublis, a 20-minute train ride from Klosters Dorf. Two more observation from my skiing trip which have nothing to do with skiing--A popular expression was "Merci, vielmals," a combination of French and German, meaning thank you very much. I suppose this is in recognition of the multi-lingual Swiss society. Also, one of the hotel receptionists remarked that she could understand my English better than my Brit associate's English. It must be because I have an English accent (inside joke for those of you who have seen the movie, Princess Bride!).
Before I get more behind on my blogging, I'm posting now, and will update further at a later date.
Janice and Neil drove down from Berlin for a few days, where they have been visiting Janice's son, Ben. Any guests staying with us in Zurich for more than a day are treated to our "hausgemachte" fondue, served right from the stove (due to our lack of a fondue pot), and Janice and Neil were no exception. We have become regulars at the Mom and Pop cheese, wine, and mini-grocery store just up the street from our apartment. Henry and I are known to the owners as the couple that loves cheese fondue. While they grate and mix the number of grams of fondue cheese we want, we chat about this and that in an assortment of English, French, and German. In the process, I found out, for example, that Mom (of Mom and Pop) was a ski racer in her youth. Mom also makes wine recommendations and gives tastes from their array of cheeses. Generally, we leave the shop with our fondue mix, fondue wine, fondue bread, fondue garlic, and a fresh apple tossed in by Mom for her good customers.
Fortified by the fondue, Janice, Neil, Henry and I left the next morning for a lovely drive to Luzern and its wooden, covered bridges. We then drove along the edge of the Viervalstatter See (the lake at which Luzern sits), with striking mountain panoramas at every turn. Using a GPS, we were guided to the parking lot below the cable car that would take us to the mountain village/ski area at Stoos. As we entered the parking lot, the ever reliable GPS voice directed us to "now, take the ferry!" In a manner of speaking, the cable car "ferried" us up to Stoos. From there, we were afforded outstanding views of the mountain ranges surrounding us and a lunch of tagesuppe and the local brew on tap. One can rarely go wrong with that combination--company included!
Having the car certainly gave us flexibility in our excursion, but upon our return to Zurich, we were reminded of the reasons why many city folk do not own cars and they manage quite well with public transportation and plain old "fuss" power. We got stuck in rush hour traffic as we approached Zurich and then could not find a legal parking space (i.e., having a daily parking permit, which we had, and parking only within the blue lines painted here and there along the street--we've seen parking tickets on cars just inches outside the blue lines). Neil solved the latter problem by parking illegally in the alley next to our building, then watching from our apartment and sounding an alarm the moment he saw a driver heading toward one of the cars legally parked nearby. He rushed out to his car, yelling at Janice to come outside and stand in the now empty space to prevent any other cars from slithering in ahead of him. Janice saved the day (or at least the parking space) as Neil maneuvered in reverse to secure the space just ahead of another driver facing the same predicament. Now, whenever I see an empty parking space in front of our apartment, I want to contact Neil and Janice and watch them repeat their seamless performance!
No sooner did Janice and Neil leave (and laundry done) when brother-in-law Alan arrived for an overnight stay before returning to Berkeley. We were lucky with another mostly sunny day as we took Alan, via the funicular Rigiblick, for a hillside view of Zurich, the Zurich See and environs, and a pleasant walk home. We later discovered that Jimmy's Pizzeria, not very Swiss-sounding, but just a block away from our apartment, served very good food!
In a fashion reminiscent of Henry's and my years of heading off in different directions, just hours after Alan left for San Francisco, I took the train to Klosters Dorf and Henry flew to Vienna for a meeting. I lucked out with my choice of hotels and my timing of this ski adventure. As part of its service to its guests, the hotel offers a ski guide on Mondays and Tuesdays--the first two days of my three-day ski trip. Four of us (three gents--Brit, German, and Swiss--and me) signed on to ski with the guide. We skied together, without the guide, for the third day as well. With the exception of the guide, Ina, who skied like every run was a slalom race course (she had practice at Taos Ski Valley, having spent a high school year in Clovis, New Mexico, on an exchange program), we all skied at about the same level. Technique-wise, I was probably the best of the four (certainly on the few bumps we found), but the others had far more success keeping within seeing distance of Ina, even though two of them were 10-15 years my senior! Although I ate my meals with the Brit, whom I met when we were picked up at the train station by the hotel shuttle upon our initial arrival in Klosters Dorf, I took advantage of the many opportunities I had to speak German. I enjoyed chatting in German with the reception desk staff and with my German and Swiss skiing partners. The German, a dentist who grew up in what used to be East Germany (and dreaded studying Russian as the mandatory second language in school), spoke limited English. Although he insisted that my German was better than his English, we managed to communicate well enough. In any event, at the fast pace at which Ina skied, we managed to ski two of the five Davos/Klosters ski areas--Parsenn (by far the largest and having the best access from Klosters) and Jakobshorn (accessible from Davos). Among the highlights was the stop for spiked coffee (and in my case, hot chocolate) at one of the several mountain restaurants on our ski to the back door of our hotel. Another highlight was our tour through the igloo hotel on the slope near the top of Parsenn. No joke--you can spend between 150 and 500 Swiss Francs a night for the pleasure of staying in an igloo (sleeping bags and throne shaped (with snow) portable toilets included). Sauna, fondue dinner, and mulled wine are also offered. Our visit to Jakobshorn (reached by bus or train) confirmed the wisdom of my decision to stay in Klosters Dorf. Davos is a real city and has lost its mountain village quaintness. Not a big late-night carouser, I did not miss the see and be seen scene! We skied Parsenn again on the third day, but finished off with the 12km run from the top of the Parsenn area down to the village of Kublis, a 20-minute train ride from Klosters Dorf. Two more observation from my skiing trip which have nothing to do with skiing--A popular expression was "Merci, vielmals," a combination of French and German, meaning thank you very much. I suppose this is in recognition of the multi-lingual Swiss society. Also, one of the hotel receptionists remarked that she could understand my English better than my Brit associate's English. It must be because I have an English accent (inside joke for those of you who have seen the movie, Princess Bride!).
Before I get more behind on my blogging, I'm posting now, and will update further at a later date.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Success in Wengen!
Here I am at Wengen-Grindelwald, on a bright, sunny Thursday afternoon! It snowed all day Tuesday and visibility was minimal, but the powder accumulated. Wednesday was perfect--the sun came out and there was plenty of room for "first tracks" throughout the day. And, I could see the slopes I had skied the day before! Thursday brought even more sunshine, and there was still a bit of untouched powder. All in all, it was a very satisfying ski trip. This photo comes from a free service--the photographer shows up on a slope, advertising that any photos he takes can be downloaded from the service's website. He hangs around for a couple of hours and snaps photos of whoever skis by. The photos are posted on the website in half-hour "bins," so it's pretty simple to figure out whether the photographer caught you "in the act." In the U.S., I could pay for an 8" x 10" glossy--I already did that in the pre-digital age! Anyway, Wengen was suggested to me as a skiing destination by friends of my sister, Judi. The village is in a quintessential alpine setting, or maybe it's my mind's stereotype of a quintessential alpine setting. No private cars are allowed, but several taxis and electric carts roam around. The final 15-20 minutes of the ride to Wengen is on a cog railway. The aerial tram to the ski slopes is literally a few steps from the railroad station. I continue to marvel at the convenience of public transportation for skiers.I managed to get a ski partner only for about an hour and a half on the first afternoon--a computer science professor on holiday from Dresden. Unfortunately, I tired him out before I was ready to quit for the afternoon! However, during my three days of skiing, I struck up conversations with various folks who shared the chairlifts with me, usually starting with "Sprechen Sie Englisch?" I worked on my French and German when I didn't end up with one of the many Brits who take their ski vacations here. The professor from Dresden was pleased to hear that I bothered to learn some German, commenting that doing so was unlike so many other Americans who assume that everyone else speaks English.
A few more observations from my skiing experience:
1. Yes, some ski areas have trees between the slopes, but virtually everyone stays away from them. The powder was great among the trees, but I don't recommend skiing there when you can't see where you will end up or you don't see ski tracks from someone skiing there before you! I tried that once, and ended up having to climb out of a ravine!
2. Don't share a T-bar with someone who is a lot taller than you. I ended up on a T-bar with a rather tall ski instructor, and by the end of lift, my hip was killing me!
3. Be very careful using a slopeside port-a-potty while wearing ski boots--the floor can be very slippery! (Yes, I managed to keep my balance, but it was difficult!)
4. Order tagesuppe (soup of the day) for lunch--it comes with fresh bread that tastes even better when dipped in the soup!
While I was skiing, Henry was traveling to Sussex, England to give a talk and meet with a former post-doc. Upon our return, we were both ready for a bit of warm, sunny weather, and we found it in Locarno over the weekend. We left the snow behind in Zurich, and when we reached the south side the St. Gotthard pass, the sun was shining. We strolled along the waterfront of Lake Maggiore, and dined outside! It was so warm, I had to remove my jacket. What a concept! Locarno did not have as much hustle and bustle as Lugano (a plus for us), and the waterfront was delightful.
No skiing this week--our stream of visitors begins with Henry's sister, Janice, and her husband, Neil, and continues over the weekend, with Alan, Henry's sister Alice's husband. Henry insists we don't have to clean the apartment, but guests give me the impetus!
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Just passing through Zurich redux
Here I am, passing through Zurich once again. But, first I digress to our trip to Paris. Henry and I flew from Zurich to CDG on Air France. This was a huge concession by Henry, as Air France is not part of United's Star Alliance. Thus, he did not receive any Mileage Plus miles to add to the million he has collected over his years of travel. A further concession came on our return from Paris. Alas, although we were able to go to the Lufthansa (part of the Star Alliance) lounge in Zurich before our departure to Paris, we were unable to do the same at Charles deGaulle Airport on our way home. Air France has its own terminal at CDG; the other airlines are in terminals a train ride away, with their lounges beyond the security checkpoints for which we had no boarding passes. Henry definitely gets benefits from being a loyal United/Star Alliance customer, but I'm more used to sitting in steerage! In any event, Air France not only feeds its passengers (okay, it was a snack, but the chocolate filled croissants were rather decent), but also offers wine at no extra cost. Once upon a time, the U.S. airlines did that too!
Although it snowed during our visit to Paris, we had enough sunshine to take the elevator up to the second level of the Eiffel Tower. Well, two out of three of us went up--Henry preferred the comfort of a park bench at ground level. Going up at all, no less to the second level, was a major feat for Sara and me, as we both have a fear of heights. My acrophobia, however, has definitely diminished over the years--maybe it's from taking long deep breaths and years of sitting on Taos Ski Valley safety bar-less chairlifts. While Sara immediately moved to the back of the elevator, I stayed in front to take pictures. The views were fantastic, and we were quite content with foregoing the third (top) floor.
The day before, while we waited for Sara to return from a class trip to Strasbourg, Henry and I visited the Musee d'Orsay (sorry for the absence of accent marks), one of my all time favorite museums--right up there with the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. The Orsay has an outstanding collection of Impressionist paintings. While with Sara and attempting to find somewhere she had not yet been, we went to the Museum of Jewish Art and History. The exhibit tracked the movement of Jews as they were expelled from country after country in the last millennium. It was especially interesting to see aspects of Jewish communities in northern Africa.
For those of you that can remember back to our French class in seventh grade, our hotel was very near "Place d'Italie." That's where the fictional family in our French textbook had an apartment! It turned out that our hotel was also just around the corner from Rue Mouffetard, a Latin Quarter street known for its daily outdoor markets. I'm a sucker for wandering from stall to stall--buying is not a necessity, but taking lots of pictures is! On Sunday morning, I took myself over to a much bigger market next to the Bastille. I succumbed there, but only to buy some home-brewed hard cider for Sara, who we had just discovered is very fond of it. The photos range from pig heads to langoustines and fruits and vegetables to flavored salts and fresh spices. It was obvious that the locals who frequent the market have their favorite vendors--vendors and customers appeared to be on a first name basis, and although many vendors sold the same things, all of them had people lined up to buy their supplies.
Of course, we managed to eat well, but to our surprise, prices for most items (not just food) were generally a noticeable amount cheaper than in Zurich. Indeed, I bought a bunch of postcards and quickly wrote and sent them off before our departure! In any event, Sara made our trip a delight--she is comfortable in her surroundings, speaks French fluently, and has managed both to work hard and to take advantage of her time abroad. She might need to sleep the entire time she is in Zurich in mid-March on her way back to San Diego, but she definitely will have earned it! No, she won't sleep the entire time--she has already informed us she is saving her dirty laundry to wash at our apartment!
My skiing at Hoch-Ybrig during the week was a bit of a disappointment--mostly because of white-out conditions. It snowed the entire time I was there, which brought nice powder, but it wasn't until I got to the lower third of the ski runs that I could see! Every time I would ski a bit and then stop in the white-out area, I would get momentarily dizzy and disoriented. I should have figured out that the solution was not to stop until I could see!! I'm sure that's what my usual skiing partner, sister Judi, would say!! Right, Judi?? Anyway, I'm moving on to a big-time area tomorrow--the Jungfrau region, which includes Wengen, Murren, and Grindelwald. For the James Bond fans out there, Murren-Schilthorn is where the skiing scene in "On her Majesty's Secret Service" was filmed.
Yesterday, Henry and I went to Basel, just a one-hour train ride from Zurich. Beyond the very nice exhibit of Picasso etching prints at the Kunstmuseum, the highlight of our day was a delicious lunch at a Michelin recommended restaurant. It was one of those places where we had to watch our table manners, but they didn't throw us out when we moved our forks from our left hands to our right hands after cutting our food!
I'm still working on my German, even though I'm not continuing with the classes. I did have several humorous moments while skiing. One was this past week when I was having lunch at one of the slopeside restaurants. Trying to make use of my German language skills, I said to the server, "Ich mochte (sorry for the lack of umlauts) bestellen" when I was finished with my meal and wanted to pay. I couldn't understand why she asked me what more I wanted to order and then walked away when I said "Nein." When she didn't otherwise appear to be interested in taking my money, I realized that I meant to say, "Ich mochte bezahlen." The former means I want to order; the latter means I want to pay. I went somewhere else to eat the next day! When I was at Andermatt and renting skis, the young fellow who helped me spoke some English, but when he was adjusting the DIN settings on the skis (these settings alter how much pressure is needed for the bindings to release), he asked me, "How do you drive?" I couldn't understand what he was talking about until I remembered that the German translation of "to ski" is "Ski fahren." "Fahren" is the German word for "to drive." Not only is it used in the context of driving a car, it's also used in other contexts, such as cycling ("Rad fahren")!
Although it snowed during our visit to Paris, we had enough sunshine to take the elevator up to the second level of the Eiffel Tower. Well, two out of three of us went up--Henry preferred the comfort of a park bench at ground level. Going up at all, no less to the second level, was a major feat for Sara and me, as we both have a fear of heights. My acrophobia, however, has definitely diminished over the years--maybe it's from taking long deep breaths and years of sitting on Taos Ski Valley safety bar-less chairlifts. While Sara immediately moved to the back of the elevator, I stayed in front to take pictures. The views were fantastic, and we were quite content with foregoing the third (top) floor.
The day before, while we waited for Sara to return from a class trip to Strasbourg, Henry and I visited the Musee d'Orsay (sorry for the absence of accent marks), one of my all time favorite museums--right up there with the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. The Orsay has an outstanding collection of Impressionist paintings. While with Sara and attempting to find somewhere she had not yet been, we went to the Museum of Jewish Art and History. The exhibit tracked the movement of Jews as they were expelled from country after country in the last millennium. It was especially interesting to see aspects of Jewish communities in northern Africa.
For those of you that can remember back to our French class in seventh grade, our hotel was very near "Place d'Italie." That's where the fictional family in our French textbook had an apartment! It turned out that our hotel was also just around the corner from Rue Mouffetard, a Latin Quarter street known for its daily outdoor markets. I'm a sucker for wandering from stall to stall--buying is not a necessity, but taking lots of pictures is! On Sunday morning, I took myself over to a much bigger market next to the Bastille. I succumbed there, but only to buy some home-brewed hard cider for Sara, who we had just discovered is very fond of it. The photos range from pig heads to langoustines and fruits and vegetables to flavored salts and fresh spices. It was obvious that the locals who frequent the market have their favorite vendors--vendors and customers appeared to be on a first name basis, and although many vendors sold the same things, all of them had people lined up to buy their supplies.
Of course, we managed to eat well, but to our surprise, prices for most items (not just food) were generally a noticeable amount cheaper than in Zurich. Indeed, I bought a bunch of postcards and quickly wrote and sent them off before our departure! In any event, Sara made our trip a delight--she is comfortable in her surroundings, speaks French fluently, and has managed both to work hard and to take advantage of her time abroad. She might need to sleep the entire time she is in Zurich in mid-March on her way back to San Diego, but she definitely will have earned it! No, she won't sleep the entire time--she has already informed us she is saving her dirty laundry to wash at our apartment!
My skiing at Hoch-Ybrig during the week was a bit of a disappointment--mostly because of white-out conditions. It snowed the entire time I was there, which brought nice powder, but it wasn't until I got to the lower third of the ski runs that I could see! Every time I would ski a bit and then stop in the white-out area, I would get momentarily dizzy and disoriented. I should have figured out that the solution was not to stop until I could see!! I'm sure that's what my usual skiing partner, sister Judi, would say!! Right, Judi?? Anyway, I'm moving on to a big-time area tomorrow--the Jungfrau region, which includes Wengen, Murren, and Grindelwald. For the James Bond fans out there, Murren-Schilthorn is where the skiing scene in "On her Majesty's Secret Service" was filmed.
Yesterday, Henry and I went to Basel, just a one-hour train ride from Zurich. Beyond the very nice exhibit of Picasso etching prints at the Kunstmuseum, the highlight of our day was a delicious lunch at a Michelin recommended restaurant. It was one of those places where we had to watch our table manners, but they didn't throw us out when we moved our forks from our left hands to our right hands after cutting our food!
I'm still working on my German, even though I'm not continuing with the classes. I did have several humorous moments while skiing. One was this past week when I was having lunch at one of the slopeside restaurants. Trying to make use of my German language skills, I said to the server, "Ich mochte (sorry for the lack of umlauts) bestellen" when I was finished with my meal and wanted to pay. I couldn't understand why she asked me what more I wanted to order and then walked away when I said "Nein." When she didn't otherwise appear to be interested in taking my money, I realized that I meant to say, "Ich mochte bezahlen." The former means I want to order; the latter means I want to pay. I went somewhere else to eat the next day! When I was at Andermatt and renting skis, the young fellow who helped me spoke some English, but when he was adjusting the DIN settings on the skis (these settings alter how much pressure is needed for the bindings to release), he asked me, "How do you drive?" I couldn't understand what he was talking about until I remembered that the German translation of "to ski" is "Ski fahren." "Fahren" is the German word for "to drive." Not only is it used in the context of driving a car, it's also used in other contexts, such as cycling ("Rad fahren")!
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