Silvester

That's what they call New Year's Eve here--"Silvester". Someone explained it to us this morning but I'm still not entirely sure we get it (other than that it came from Italy). Anyway, we may not be able to stay awake until midnight, but it was a great Silvester regardless. Yesterday morning we took the train to Interlaken, where we had booked last-minute hotel rooms (Interlaken itself isn't terribly exciting, but its in a great location at the base of the Alps). Anyway, we split up and a few of us took the train up to the charming ski town of Grindelwald while a few others went all the way up above 11,000 feet to the Jungfraujoch, the so-called "Top of Europe". This morning we all headed back up to Grindelwald so the kids could try skiing and Gretchen and I could try sledding. It was a blast trying to sled on those old-style wooden toboggans with runners where you're sitting about a foot above the snow and have minimal control over where you go. We never entirely got the hang of steering or stopping except for dragging our feet, so our legs were coated in snow from crotch to cuffs by the time we got to the bottom (my brilliant idea of the day was to wear corduroy pants for sledding, although at least I had long underwear to cushion--literally--the cold). Gretchen took the lack of steering and stopping to an extreme and pretty much wiped out whenever she wanted to stop (and sometimes when she didn't). At one point she crashed spectacularly right in front of me and almost sent both of us hurling over the edge onto a black-diamond ski run. It was a beautiful two days, especially since they had received fresh snow earlier in the week and there wasn't a cloud in the sky either day, which was a welcome break from perpetually-gray-these-days Basel. Given the great weather, perhaps it's not surprising that: (a) we forgot our camera (although the grandeur of the Alps is difficult to capture in a picture); and (b) when we got back to Basel it was raining.

Anyway, happy Silvester (or however they say it here)!

My inner 13-year-old

Yesterday Gretchen took the family up to Titisee, Germany, about which I'm sure she'll have more to say when things settle down around here, but I'd just like to make the observation that in the last week she's been to both Titlis and Titisee. And she had a gute Fahrt both times.

Comments

Many thanks to those who post occasional comments here--even when we don't respond, rest assured it's always a treat to hear from folks and it makes it more fun for us to have a semi-interactive blog!

Hopefully not a trend

We're having a great time with Gretchen's family, although we've now had two visits from adults with children and the first two days have followed the same trend--we're hoping it gets broken this time:

VISIT 1
Day 1: Family arrives, too wiped out by jet lag to do much, lots of sleep
Day 2: Enough energy to see Basel; child vomits
Day 3: Kirk and Gretchen get the stomach flu

VISIT 2
Day 1: Family arrives, too wiped out by jet lag to do much, lots of sleep
Day 2: Enough energy to see Basel; child vomits
Day 3: ?????

My fingers are crossed...

(I have to say, the kids are real troopers--if jet lag is tough on those of us adults who travel regularly, I can't imagine how much harder it must be on kids who aren't used to the big change in their body clocks.)

More Christmas

After having a very nice Christmas, yesterday we got a Boxing Day treat--Gretchen's sister's family arrived safely and on time for their first-ever visit to Europe. So we got to spend another day celebrating Christmas while they fought their collective jet lag. It's great to see them, although Grady has evidently decided he's not getting enough attention and is acting like a two-year-old.

Yesterday's wierdness came in the form of snow--we planned to drive to Zurich Airport but woke up to unexpected snow that was sticking on the roads. Since we don't get our winter tires until later this week, we thought we should play it safe and take the train instead. So we took the tram downhill to the station, and when we got there it was raining, not snowing. We live uphill from the station, but it's not like we live in the hills (imagine going uphill from Georgetown to the National Cathedral--we would be maybe halfway up), yet that slight elevation was enough to turn the rain to snow. By the time we got back the snow had turned back to rain and what little snow was gone. This morning it appeared to be snowing, but now it looks like rain again. Bizarro.

Tsunamis

I don't know if it's big news back in the States, but the big story here are the awful tsunamis in South Asia. In addition to the terrible toll on the local populations, many of the areas that were badly hit are quite popular with vacationers from Europe. Indeed, many of the areas hit were areas we considered going on our vacation in Asia last year. Simply awful.

Merry Christmas!

For those who celebrate it, we wish you a very Merry Christmas. While it's strange being so far from family, we've had a very nice Christmas--after getting back from skiing yesterday we went to a nice (but way past our bedtime!) midnight service at the local Anglican church last night, then had a low-key Christmas celebration at home this morning. Now we're getting ready to have Christmas dinner with Canadian friends, and of course we look forward to the arrival tomorrow morning of Gretchen's sister Kris and her family from Wisconsin. Anyway, we hope you have a nice Christmas!

Great read

I just flew through a book called The Sweet Season by Austin Murphy. The author, a writer for Sports Illustrated, spent several months following the football team (and their legendary coach, John Gagliardi, who has won several national Division III championships with highly unorthodox--especially humane by football standards--methods) at St. John's University in Minnesota. While football plays a major role in the book, I was surprised by how much of the book was actually about family, faith, life in small-town Minnesota, the fun and travails (mostly the former) of being in college, etc. Very well-written, often laugh-out-loud funny, and sometimes touching. A perfect read for the holiday season.

I am a dork, Christmas Eve edition

As if I hadn't already established that I am, indeed, a dork, today provided further evidence. We decided it would be nice to do something fun for Christmas Eve (which is supposedly bigger than Christmas Day here), and what could be more fun than breaking in our newly rented skis? So we got up early and drove an hour-and-a-half to the town of Engelberg to ski in the Alps at a place called Titlis (teeheeheehee).

I should have known there might be trouble because Engelberg was the site of my biggest wipeout ever...not on the slopes, but in the parking lot. A few years ago while living in DC I had a meeting in Basel and afterward took the train to Engelberg for my first Swiss ski experience. I had finished a day of skiing and was walking to catch the bus when my ski boot caught a patch of ice--up I went and down I came. I was sure I broke my elbow, but fortunately it was just badly bruised--I had a lump on my elbow for at least 6 months afterward. The point is, Engelberg hasn't been kind to me.

The other point is, I'm a klutz. Not only do I slip and fall in parking lots, but in the past two days around the house I've shut a cupboard door on my finger, closed the refrigerator on my foot--don't ask--and kicked the corner of a futon frame that was lying in wait beneath the comforter. The bottom line is, on a good day I can barely walk and chew gum at the same time.

So anyway, back to today--we took the gondola up the mountain and started to ski down and I was just...off. Something just didn't feel right...actually, nothing felt right. By the time we both stopped midway down our first run, Gretchen was thrilled to hear me say (and I quote) "I can't see, my boots don't fit, I'm out of control, and I have no confidence." (Specifically, we weren't in the sun so my sunglasses flattened everything and made it impossible to distinguish ice from powder and moguls from level slopes; my boots were somehow tight enough that my toes were numb, yet loose enough that my foot was sliding around so much that the skis wouldn't respond; my out-of-shape legs were like rubber after 2 minutes so I wasn't able to carve turns well; and most importantly, when you combine the previous three factors, my confidence was shot--and I'm convinced confidence matters even more than skill when it comes to skiing.)

Still, I was a trooper and carried on. As we were getting toward the bottom of the hill, I was all alone on a fairly level stretch when all of a sudden my left ski decided the snowbank looked like lots of fun and the next thing I knew I was on my butt in that same snowbank--most people couldn't fall like that if they tried. Fortunately Gretchen missed that one, although she figured it out when I didn't catch up with her for a while. I had pretty well decided that it wasn't worth skiing with the boots of death when we decided to head over to get some lunch, which entailed going down one last slope to another lift. It was steep but flat and uncrowded--usually my favorite conditions--when this time my right ski decided the snowbank was much more interesting, and since I had a good head of steam, I went ass-over-teakettle into the side of the hill, shedding both skis, both poles, and my hat (it merited at least a 9.8, maybe even higher if the Russian judge hadn't given me a 9.5). Best of all, Gretchen saw the whole thing.

I usually don't fall until my first afternoon when I start to get tired--falling twice before lunch simply confirmed that it was not my day. So I decided that my destiny was to stay inside, drink coffee, and be supportive of Gretchen while she practiced her form--needless to say, I did a much better job of that than I did skiing. Now I know I need to do several things before the ski season really gets going. First, exchange my boots. I don't know if I have wierd feet or what, but for some reason I've never found a pair of ski boots that didn't instantly cut off all circulation to my toes. I swear, there's a part of me that would rather wear a burlap jockstrap than put on a pair of ski boots. OK, so that's a bit of an exaggeration--but not much. Second, get my lazy butt in shape. Despite not really making it through an hour of skiing, I feel like I fought a heavyweight title fight. Even my arms are sore (from pushing off with my poles on flat stretches). There's a part of me that still thinks I'm 16 years old--when I could take a couple months off and still run a 6-minute mile without breaking a sweat--instead of pushing 40 and getting winded from walking up (or even down) a flight of stairs. The bottom line is that it's going to be a long ski season, especially if I can't make it through the morning.

Having said all that--and that was a lot!--it was still a really good day. There are certainly worse ways to spend Christmas Eve than sitting in a warm mountain lodge, drinking coffee and gazing out at the Alps while waiting for your lovely wife to come skiing down. And perhaps best of all, despite my mishaps on the slopes, I didn't wipe out in the parking lot this time, which is a step forward. Anyway, here is our day in a nutshell:

Grey Christmas?

What slim hopes we had of having a white Christmas here in Basel appear to be dashed--after a week of sub-freezing temperatures following last weekend's snow, today we've got temps in the 40s with light rain, which is rapidly turning our winter wonderland into a sloppy, slushy mess. C'est la vie!

I like to watch

If one of us is outside, Grady loves to sit at the window and watch. This morning Gretchen decided to go out and clean snow off the car before we drove down to rent our skis (I know that's probably the job of the man of the house, but I swear she honestly loves stuff like that--I think it's a Midwestern thing). Anyway, while she worked to scrape the snow (which had melted and re-frozen and was quite crusted onto the car), Grady and I gave her encouragement from the warmth of the house:

Kandersteg

I think I'm starting to get the hang of this vacation thing. Today we decided to go up to the mountains since there had been fresh snow over the weekend and since Gretchen has really only been to the Alps once since we got here. So we decided to head up to Kandersteg. We didn't actually know anything about Kandersteg other than that it was easily and quickly (2 hours) accessible by train--we don't have our winter tires on the car yet--otherwise, we didn't have a clue what to do once we got there. Fortunately, the people at the tourist office were very friendly and helpful (not always a sure bet in Europe, by the way), and they suggested we ride a chairlift up into the mountains and go for a hike around the Oeschinensee (a lake). That sounded great, other than the FREEZING COLD weather, but we toughed it out and headed up. We were surprised to find that not only was there a hiking trail, but there was a little ski area as well. We set off for the Oeschinensee, and after about 5 minutes I realised my toes were numb (despite knowing we were heading to the mountains, I wore my lightest hiking boots with cotton socks--I'm not a smart man). Having once had frostbite on my feet, which was not a lot of fun, I decided it might be best to head back to the lodge and warm up. Gretchen was really eager to see the lake, though, so she decided to press on. In some ways it was ideal for both of us--she got to take a long walk in the cold to see a frozen lake (she's from Wisconsin, after all, where some people orient their whole winter around frozen lakes), while I got to sit and drink coffee and read a book. Anyway, the scenery was fantastic, and the amazing thing is that Kandersteg is pretty much an afterthought--most people seem to know it as the place where you can put your car on a train and go through a tunnel under the Alps. There are just so many little towns like it that even though it's beautiful, there are countless other towns just like it. It may not always be the most exciting place, but what a beautiful country this is! (Here is a view of town from the top of the chairlift, as well as Gretchen in front of the church in town...and believe me, it was as cold as it looks.)

Walk like a penguin

I was having strange flashbacks to my college days today. Don't worry, nothing alarming like sketchy fraternity parties or anything, but it was more about the weather. We got our first snowfall in Basel yesterday and it is absolutely beautiful! But it is also quite dangerous, or gefährlich, as they say here. Even though we shoveled our sidewalk, not everybody else did such a good job as Kirk did, and it's very icy. (In fact, we must have done a really good job because our landlord gave us a very nice box of chocolates to thank us.) Walking Grady today reminded me of walking on campus back at the University of Minnesota the first day after a new snowfall (which was quite often). You feel like you have to walk like a penguin so you don't wipe out-- you know, legs straight and knees locked. Undoubtedly, back at the U, you always had one really bad fall each year (probably because you refused to wear sturdy snow boots instead of your fashionable shoes), and you hoped that nobody saw you, but you know they did. And you know they were all laughing, but you hoped that they also felt bad for you at the same time.

Tastes like chicken

What Kirk didn't mention about our dinner last night is that I tried escargot for the first time. I never would have actually ordered it, but it was part of an "Amuse Bouche" that they brought us before the meal. (Kirk told me it was called an "Amuse Bouche"... I didn't know there was a word to describe the complimentary appetizer they sometimes bring you at nice restaurants "compliments of the chef"... he's so worldly) In addition to escargot, it consisted of a jellied Pot-au-Feu and a taste of lobster bisque. I'm sure the actual names of the dishes are much more elegant in French, but we really didn't understand most of what our waitress said so that's our interpretation of what we ate.

Schnee!

It doesn't snow (Schnee) here very often, but this afternoon it started snowing and it hasn't let up since--we've probably got a good 2-3 inches on the ground now. It's really beautiful. We were thinking about going downtown to walk around before dinner (thankfully our friends have a four-wheel drive SUV to get us to dinner, because our little rear-wheel-drive-lots-of-fun-on-the-Autobahn-but-not-so-fun in-the-snow-especially-with-no-winter-tires-yet car isn't going anywhere in this weather), but our landlord just called to ask us to "put the snow away so passengers can go on the path" (i.e., do some shoveling).

I am a dork

I'm not above laughing at myself, so here's a picture of me looking ever-so-hip while waiting for the tram to take our Christmas tree home. (I'll let Gretchen write more about the tree later if she's feeling inspired...)

Wisconsin is hip

You can imagine my surprise when we found a Wisconsin hotel listed in a book we stumbled across yesterday called Hip Hotels USA. Of course, I've always loved Wisconsin, but I've never thought of it as an especially hip place. The book, as you would expect considering it was in a Basel bookstore, is written in German. The listing for Canoe Bay (which looks beautiful, by the way) starts like this: "Wisconsin? Warum sollte jemand nach Wisconsin fahren?", which basically means "Why should anyone go to Wisconsin?" I'm just wondering...does anyone have a clever response to that question?

Rainy Sunday morning reading

A couple of interesting items from this weekend's International Herald Tribune (which is basically a highly condensed New York Times for expats and travelers): First, a Frank Rich column about the absurdity of some conservative Christians' claims that their faith is somehow threatened in the States (as a personal aside, it's so frustrating that the Jerry Falwells and James Dobsons of the world have become the popular face of Christianity in the U.S.); second, and on a much lighter note, a Dave Barry column about the joy of dogs and their toys.

Au Boeuf Noir

I hope I never get tired of this sort of thing--tonight we decided on fairly late notice to go to France for dinner. So I poked around the Michelin guide and found a restaurant more or less at random in a nearby town: Au Boeuf Noir in Hésingue. (By the way, is it not a little strange that the authority on European restaurants is a tire company? I mean, if I'm looking for a good restaurant back home, it's not like Goodyear or Firestone jump to mind as resources. But I digress.) I loved my appetizer--smoked salmon over fried potatoes (trust me, it sounded and tasted much fancier in French)--and Gretchen had an almost perfect steak for her main course. It was kind of fun that they didn't really speak English, so we had to make do with our elementary French--it always adds an element of mystery to the meal since we're never entirely sure exactly what we've ordered. Best of all, it was just a short 20-minute drive from our house. And tomorrow night we're meeting friends for dinner at one of their favorite restaurants, Wirtshaus zur Säge in Flüh (Switzerland). Our wallets may be lighter after this weekend, but our waist lines will more than make up for it!

Randomness

This is the kind of thing that's fun about having iTunes on your computer to synchronise with the iPod: you get random schizophrenic progressions like what we have this morning: first some Yo-Yo Ma, then Lyle Lovett, followed by The Fugees, then The Carpenters, No Doubt, The Beastie Boys, and Cowboy Junkies. Keeps us on our toes...

Weather

I don't think I'll ever figure out the weather here (and the absence of The Weather Channel doesn't help matters--why is it that back home you can get a detailed forecast for each little town, plus radar to see that a storm is currently over Fairfax County and headed for our house in the next 20 minutes, but here you can only find a general forecast for the northern and southern parts of the country?). Basically I've figured out that the forecast is completely irrelevant--it can either rain or be sunny at any time, with no rhyme or reason whatsoever (except when there are weeks on end of gray and overcast--when Gretchen arrived in Zurich this week, they announced the current conditions as "freezing fog"). Case in point: after being sunny and freezing cold all week--every morning, all the cars in the neighborhood were encased in frost from top to bottom--yesterday it warmed up a little and last night it was raining and so windy it sounded like a hurricane outside, then this morning we were eating breakfast and looked outside to see that it was snowing, and now 10 minutes later it's sunny with a blue sky. As you can imagine, planning how to dress for the day is a bit of an art form.

What to do?

This is really strange--after what seems like months of working 12-14 hour days, today I start two weeks of vacation (or "holiday", as we call it here in Europe). The second week will be busy as Gretchen's sister's family comes for a visit, but this week--no plans other than to try not to drive Gretchen crazy as I interfere with her normal daily routine. Actually, there's a lot I want to do: buy a Christmas tree, rent skis for the winter, take a day trip or two, check out a couple of local museums, maybe catch a movie (the local selection isn't great at the moment, but we'd like to see The Incredibles, or as it's called here, Die Unglaublichen). Still, it feels odd to have all this time on my hands...

It's back

I know you've all been on pins and needles waiting to hear about our TV dilemna. It's fixed. The satellite man was here this afternoon and fortunately it was a very easy repair. Apparently the cord connecting the satellite feed to the building (which is in our landlord's apartment upstairs) was plugged into the wrong outlet. It's a mystery as to how it got here. I wish I had something more exciting to write about, but unfortunately not every day is exciting, even when living in Europe. I had German class this morning (which was a real challenge after a 3 week break), ran a few errands downtown afterward with my friend and German partner Sabrina, came home to eat lunch and walk Grady and that's about it. I finally unpacked my almost-lost luggage and now I'm planning to wrap a bunch of Christmas presents. I'm hoping we can get a tree this weekend.

No TV

Yes, it's true, our TV is broken. Actually, the TV itself isn't broken (which is good considering we just bought it in the spring), but it appears that there's a problem with the satellite hookup. We just get a blank, blue screen and lots of loud static. It's been this way ever since Kirk got back from DC. After explaining the problem to our landlord (who is also our upstairs neighbor), she talked to the man at the satellite company who suggested I try "manipulating" or "controlling" the outlet where the cord connects to the wall. I'm not sure exactly what he meant, but those were the English words our landlord came up with to describe his "proposal". Considering I had already tried disconnecting and reconnecting everything attached to the TV, we now have an appointment with the satellite man tomorrow afternoon. I know I often complain about the lack of English programming on our TV, but I actually kind of miss it. Right before I left for DC, MTV started showing old episodes of Real World: Back to New York. I always liked that season.

Dutch treat

Tonight there's a big football (soccer) match between FC Basel and Feyenoord here in Basel. There were evidently stories in the local papers this week about the concern that Dutch hooligans (I know that sounds like an oxymoron, but I guess the Brits don't have a monopoly on rude fan behaviour) could be coming to town for the match. I took a walk downtown at lunch today and the streets were packed with drunk, loud Feyenoord fans--it wasn't quite threatening, but it was starting to get borderline menacing. (Incidentally, the only way you could tell they were Dutch was because of their team colors--otherwise, Dutch sounds remarkably similar to Swiss German to the untrained ear.)

Anyway, just a few minutes ago I heard a roar outside my window. I looked down and there were probably about 100 people chanting and walking through the middle of traffic in the general direction of the stadium. As they headed away, all of a sudden a huge line of Polizei in full riot gear came marching behind them while police cars blocked traffic in both directions and other police walked down the street parallel to the crowd. For a couple of minutes I thought I was going to get to relive my glory days in L.A. during the riots. Anyway, they eventually all ended up out of sight so we're not sure how it ended (if it ended), but traffic is at a standstill and there's a steady stream of sirens going by. I had been thinking it might be fun to try to attend the match, but now I'm thinking maybe it's for the best to watch it at home (if our TV worked, that is). Good times to be had tonight in Basel!

Phew!

The nice man from the Zurich airport just delivered my missing luggage. I actually don't know if he was that nice-- it's not like we talked-- but he made my day by ensuring the safe arrival of my bags. I packed them full with all my Christmas purchases (both for me and to give as presents) and I was paranoid that I would never see them again! I still don't understand how my luggage didn't make it on my flight, and of course United couldn't give me a good explanation when I called to complain last night, but it's all good in the end.

Life is good

According to today's FT, research shows that "the Swiss enjoy not only the best of lifestyles but the longest lives in Europe..." It must be because of the chocolate...

What a week!

After a fabulous week in DC, I arrived back in Basel this morning. The only negative of the whole trip was that my luggage didn't arrive in Zurich with me. Can anyone explain to me how United can lose my luggage on a direct flight from Dulles to Zurich?? Supposedly it has now been rerouted on a Lufthansa flight through Frankfurt and will be delivered to me sometime tomorrow. I really don't understand how they can manage to not put my bags on the plane with me considering I checked in with plenty of time prior to the flight in Washington. It just further confirms that Dulles is a mess of an airport. Without a doubt, the best part of my trip to DC was spending time with so many good friends. I think no matter how easy it is to adjust to living overseas you can never stop missing all the friends that are still at home. I also managed to do a ton of shopping and eat lots of good food at many of our favorite restaurants (eg. Jaleo for tapas, Raaga for Indian, Five Guys for a burger). I bought so much stuff during our visit that I filled an extra suitcase and still had to ship a big box as well! I reached a few conclusions after spending a week back home in DC... 1) Both Kirk and I have become more patient and less-stressed living in Basel, but our tension levels can easily be raised back to high by driving in DC traffic for a week, 2) While I enjoyed visiting with friends from my old office, I absolutely do not miss working, and 3) Diet Coke really is better than Coca-Cola Light!

Showing my age

I can tell I'm getting older not only because of my exponentially increasing gray hair (which is admittedly masked by my dirty blonde hair), but also because I've been digging the new CDs from R.E.M. and U2 (especially the latter--"Vertigo" is an excellent song to have on the iPod while walking to work). It's so...well...mainstream, but I like that they've gotten away from their more experimental '90s phases (especially R.E.M., who sort of lost me for awhile). Hopefully this isn't just a stop on the way to digging the new Michael Bolton or Lionel Richie...

(R.E.M. is actually coming to Basel in January, but unfortunately it's already sold out. Tickets for Kylie Minogue, however, are still available if you'd like to plan a visit to Basel.)

Eternal sunshine

Saw a movie on the plane over to DC that's still sticking with me: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, which was just nominated for a Golden Globe award for musical or comedy. This story describes it as a "whimsical romance", which is really misleading. That makes it sound like an airy chick flick, but it's actually a fascinating exploration of the power of memory. Parts of it are quite funny, but I found the tone overall to be rather melancholy. Jim Carrey--who I don't usually care for--and Kate Winslet are brilliant. You probably have to be in the right mood because it's fairly thought-provoking, the storyline isn't especially linear, and the tone and style are rather distinctive (it's written by Charlie Kaufman, who also wrote Adaptation and Being John Malkovich). I feel like I need to see it again in the comfort of home instead of on a seven-inch airplane screen.

The trains run on time

I actually read this editorial from the weekend Financial Times on the train from the Zurich Airport to Basel this morning, and it quite nicely manages to make fun of both the UK and Switzerland (it is true, by the way, what they say about Swiss trains--you can generally set your watch to them, and people get really uptight if they're running even a minute late):

Modern railways

In the 1949 film The Third Man, Orson Welles's Harry Lime cynically noted that the only thing Switzerland had to show for 500 years of brotherly love, democracy and peace was the cuckoo clock. This was, of course, a monstrous calumny; the cuckoo clock was invented in Germany. But Switzerland's even more remarkable contribution to civilisation was the concept of the train that runs on time.

Swiss trains are so reliable you can set your cuckoo clock by them. But this Sunday, Swiss National Railways is making the biggest changes to its timetable in more than 20 years, altering the times of most of the trains and meddling with one of the few great certainties in the nation's daily life.

There are two ways to run a railway. The Swiss model, essentially modern, is based on the idea that the railway timetable is literally true and that the trains will run at the stated times. The British model, essentially postmodern, rejects the idea that railway timetables are capable of conveying a fixed meaning or universal truth, holding that train times can only be shifting, relative and provisional.

Next to the simplicity and rationality of the Swiss model, British-style dysfunctionalism may appear unsatisfactory. But there are enormous advantages in living with a rail system that simply cannot get any worse. Having no expectations that a train will ever appear on time, passengers are amazed and delighted when it does, so life contains only pleasant surprises. The Swiss model, in contrast, produces only a sense of boredom when a train appears on time, yet produces anger or despondency when it is late, so passengers are doomed to disappointment.

No wonder the Swiss are so glum. For their sake, let us hope the new timetable is a disaster.

Home again

It was great to get back to DC last week/weekend--my first trip back since moving this spring. Unfortunately much of the time I was working, but it was still nice to get caught up with friends, eat familiar food, and get some Christmas shopping done. Being back also reminded me how horrendous the drivers are in DC--I'd forgotten what it was like to have people driving slow in the fast lane and fast in the slow lane, stopping in the middle of a busy street to look at addresses, etc. It's a bit like Beirut, but with better lane markings and signage. I re-discovered the car horn and the Stinkefinger.

I also had forgotten what a miserable airport Dulles is--while still not as bad as Roissy Charles de Gaulle in Paris, it's actually not far behind. This commentary pretty much sums it up.

A very quiet house

Anyone who is a dog owner will understand what I mean when I say it is eerily quiet whenever your dog is not home. I took Grady to his kennel in Mumpf this afternoon because I'm leaving for DC in the morning. Kirk is already on his way there (after delaying his flight by a day because of lingering effects of his nasty stomach flu). Now I'm just waiting for our visitors to get back from their adventure on the Glacier Express (they also leave for DC tomorrow morning, but on a different flight). With Grady gone, I have to admit I enjoy being able to eat a snack on the couch without having a dog jump on top of me begging, but nonetheless I always miss him and his quirky ways and loud barking when he's not here. I have really been looking forward to this trip to DC, and now I can finally can get excited about seeing friends and going shopping at a normal mall and eating good food that I can't get here, (I've been craving a cheeseburger from Five Guys), and drinking a really cold Diet Coke. Those are the things I miss!

More Chargers...

I liked this bit from Brian Murphy's The Hangover on ESPN.com (referring to the top pick in this year's draft basically refusing to play for the Chargers):

Again, to recap: Eli Manning, before the NFL Draft, tells the world that the San Diego Chargers don't know their posterior side from their elbow joint. He defies the Chargers to draft him, and forces a trade to New York when they do. A quick update: San Diego, at 9-3, is the hottest story in the league, coincidentally taking place in "America's Finest City", a town of good live music, beautiful beaches and, yes, fish tacos. Eli, at 0-3 as a starter, is freezing his posterior side off in New York City, a place as forgiving as Dennis the Menace's neighbor, Mr. Wilson. Anytime you need a recap, Eli, just check The Hangover. We've got your back.

I just saw Niggi-Näggi

He looked like Santa Claus to me, but the sign announcing his visit at the local "mall" where I just bought Christmas lights and a tree stand called him "Niggi-Näggi". Lots of kids were lined up to see him, but from what I could tell, they were all terrified once they came face to face with him. He was offering them Grättimaa, (I'll explain what they are later), clementines, and nuts. They didn't seem interested in his gifts. Maybe they were all too worried about being put in a sack and sent back to the Black Forest (supposedly that's what happens to the bad kids on Santiglaus-Daag). I've actually developed quite a liking for Grättimaa, which are basically bread in the shape of a little man with sugar sprinkled on top. Sometimes they have chocolate chunks baked into them which makes them even better. In a way they're like gingerbread men without the ginger. All the stores and bakeries in Basel are selling them right now, and most places have cardboard Grättimaa hanging by string from the ceiling announcing their availability.

Kaffee

This is how I can tell I've been out of whack: I'm normally a devoted three-cups-of-coffee-a-day drinker, and since Friday I've had a cup-and-a-half of tea. Total. My head says it wants coffee, but my stomach says "no way, José"...

"San Diego Super Chargers"

It's understandable if you don't know the tune to the 1970s Dan Fouts/Don Coryell-era disco song referenced in the title, but I'm certainly singing it to myself today (download and listen for yourself--it's the sound of my childhood, I tell ya). See, the woeful San Diego Chargers--who were picked by everyone (including me) to finish well below .500 this year--have a two-game lead in the AFC West. (Great quote from that article, by the way: "With this team, it gets tight. But when it gets down to nut-cuttin' time we get it done." I have absolutely no idea what that means.) Now I probably shouldn't jinx it because they've had a habit of clutching defeat from the jaws of victory over the years, but they're on a pace to make the playoffs in the toughest conference in football. (And, being in Switzerland, I'll miss every minute of it even if they do make the playoffs...)

Santiglaus-Daag

I was supposed to fly to DC today, but since I feel more or less like I've been run over by a train, I decided to stay home sick today and fly tomorrow morning instead. And good thing, because December 6 is Santiglaus-Daag (Father Christmas Day) in Switzerland! Since this is the kind of thing you can't make up (Schmutzli?!?), I'll just quote directly from one of our expat magazines:

Santiglaus lives in the Black Forest where he spends all year writing down what every child does in a big book...On the evening of December 6 he comes to visit all the children, with his book and his donkey, loaded down by a sack full of presents and accompanied by his side-kick Schmutzli. Schmutzli is a dark Father Christmas who carries a bundle of sticks with which to whip bad children (it's a very old custom, you can tell) and brings along a second sack, in which he puts the really really bad children and drags them kicking and screaming back to the Black Forest for a year.

Children are usually expected to learn a rhyme or song off by heart to recite to Santiglaus. One of the most well-known (though least recited--it takes a hardened child to actually say this when face-to-face with a real live Santiglaus) goes:

Santi-Niggi-Näggi
Hinderem Ofe steggi
Gib mr Nuss und Biire
Denn kummi wider fiire

(Santi-Niggi-Näggi,
I'm hiding behind the stove,
hand over the nuts and pears,
then I'll come out again.)

A common urban legend you'll often hear in Switzerland is that a cousin/uncle/friend-of-a-friend was once actually packed into the sack by Schmutzli. Don't believe it! Most children are so impressed when meeting Santiglaus in the flesh that anything more than a very mild ticking off will result in tears, being put in a sack would probably cause severe trauma.

So it's come to this

Since we're both in recovery and don't have much energy, we spent the afternoon watching bobsledding and curling...and if that's not exciting enough, it was broadcast in German. Doesn't get much more exciting than that!

REALLY good times

What a delightful weekend--instead of entertaining our guests, Gretchen and I both came down with the stomach flu--luckily Gretchen's wasn't as bad as mine, because she ended up nursing me through it. UGH!!! At least we're eating again, but unfortunately Gretchen is going to stay home and recover rather than go on the Glacier Express. And I sure can't wait to get on a plane tomorrow...

What does this say about me?

I just noticed 7 out of my past 9 posts ended with an ellipsis. I must be getting predictable...

(8 out of 10!)

Good times!

Yesterday our friends Kristina and Mike and their three kids arrived from DC for a visit. First they missed their connection in Atlanta, so instead of flying direct from there to Zurich, they had to fly to Stuttgart and then catch a connecting flight to Zurich. Not only did this get them in later than originally planned, but of course their luggage didn't make it. Then last night one of the kids got sick, and it's been cold and rainy since they got here. Knock on wood, but hopefully things are looking up--their luggage finally arrived, the sun started peeking out this afternoon, we're hoping the illness has passed, and they're all getting ready to go (with Gretchen) on the Glacier Express this weekend from Zermatt to St. Moritz--I'm jealous! And of course I'm now fighting a cold and have to get on a plane to DC on Monday...

News of the world

It's good to see that Iraq is getting a new terror alert system, and that the Swift Boat Veterans may have life after Kerry...

Art Basel

Since Stacy and others have asked what Art Basel is all about, here is an article about the one in Miami Beach that is going on now. (We've never been to the one in Basel. Or Miami, for that matter...)

Grady goes international

We recently got an email telling us about a new blog called Modern Pooch that focuses (big surprise) on dogs. One of the features is that you can upload a picture of your dog, so on a whim we sent a picture we love of Grady looking out the train window at the Alps near Wengen. So he's famous now! (Plus he seems to be one of the few big dogs to have his picture posted--most of the others seem to be little yappy dogs...I'll take a big, dopey, playful dog over a little yappy one any day of the week.) Anyway, his picture was posted here. Hopefully he won't get a big head about it...

Napoleon Dynamite

Evidently the film Napoleon Dynamite just arrived in Europe because I just saw a review today. I forgot that I had seen it when I was visiting Madison this summer (my allergies were so bad in the house that I had to get away for awhile every day). It definitely takes a certain sense of humour and the right frame of mind, but I thought it was really funny in a bizarre, clever, budget-film-with-an-arthouse-mentality sort of way. Two thumbs up.

Sex and the City

Could somebody please tell my how (or why) I survived without HBO for all these years? I'm now totally hooked on Sex and the City. I borrowed the series DVDs from a friend here in Basel and I literally have to tell myself that I cannot watch more than 2 episodes a day. (By the way, they actually show it here on German and/or Swiss TV, but I prefer to watch it in English and skip the challenge of translation.) Kirk doesn't seem to get it... I guess it's a chick thing. He'll be sitting at the computer and I'll be watching an episode and he'll hear some strange comment, or noise, coming from the TV (as you often hear during the show) and he'll ask "What are you watching??" As if he needs to ask. I'm a bit concerned because my friend only has seasons 1-4, and I'm already about halfway through season 4 (Carrie just got back together with Aidan). Does this mean I need to buy season 5 and 6 when I'm back in the states? Perhaps it would be a good stocking stuffer from Santa...

Born in Arizona, moved to Babylonia...

King Tut is coming to the States, but you know where he started? Basel, baby. Basel. (OK, so technically he started in Egypt, but there's no need to be so literal about it...)

A good night

Not that we ever get to watch college basketball over here, but it was sure nice to wake up this morning and see that Duke beat Michigan State and Wisconsin beat Maryland in the ACC-Big 10 Challenge last night...