Tastes like wallaby

Served today at lunch: brochette de kangourou, or kangaroo kebab if you prefer. It wasn't bad. It's supposedly quite lean and healthy, although it was a bit gamy and venison-like. Gretchen was not happy to hear about this when I got home, because it reminded her of this guy (although at the time she was actually a little bit freaked out by the kangaroos):

Hot hot hot

I almost forgot that a while back I popped into a nearby Tchibo (the place that sells coffee and completely random merchandise). There I saw something that I still can't believe I didn't buy for the simple entertainment value of watching Gretchen try to use it: a Trockenhaube, or hair-drying hood, that vaguely resembled something a hazardous material disposal worker might wear. (Or do people actually use these and I'm an idiot for even suggesting it's funny? Wait, don't answer that.)

Nets

Maybe it's just me, but this struck me as a rather worthwhile cause.

(On a semi-related note, one of the guys in our prenatal class asked if any of us were planning to put nets over our babies' cribs. His wife then rolled her eyes and told us it wasn't mosquitos he was concerned about, but that he was actually nervous about bats. I have plenty to freak out about with this whole baby thing, but bats just aren't real high on my list.)

Have I gone Euro?

A couple of weeks ago I sarcastically declared that I was Euro because I could make an appointment over the phone in French. Now, after his visit, Dave has thrown down the gauntlet and declared that it's true that I'm Euro. Allow me to respond to his points:

(1) British spelling...guilty as charged. At work I have to write in British English (socialise, colour, programme), so now I tend to think in those terms and use that spelling all the time instead of switching back and forth. For what it's worth, I have NOT adopted a faux-British accent.

(2) Metric system...I have to disagree (mostly) with this one. It's true that I've kinda figured out the centigrade/Fahrenheit thing, although only in the most general of terms (16C=61F, 30C=almost 90F, 0C=32F...anything else is a rough guess). I finally figured out kilos (multiply times 2 and add a little bit). I can only do kilometers by working the math in my head or (more commonly) by looking at my speedometer. I can't do centimeters to save my life (which could be a problem because the baby's measurements will be in centimeters and kilos). Let's just say I'm not planning to come back to the States pushing to convert to metric like they tried in elementary school in the '70s.

(3a) Manpurse...I've covered this one before. Yes, I have one.

(3b) Manpris. I've never heard this term before, but evidently that's what Dave called the 3/4-length shorts (i.e., man capris) he saw when he was on the town with Gretchen, to which Gretchen responded by telling him that I have some. It's true, but I don't think of them as being very Euro. If they were Euro (or at least what you see around here), they would be white and slim and, in my opinion, pretty gay-looking. Mine, on the other hand, are from Australia and are bulky and (in my humble opinion) not that gay-looking at all. Dorky, perhaps, but Euro? I'll let you decide (from last summer in Krakow):



In fairness, I suppose I should add that I now go on holiday rather than vacation, willingly choose to watch football on TV (or soccer, as you Yanks might call it), and drink wine at dinner almost every night. On the other hand, I'm desperately craving a trip back home to the States so I can shop for clothes and shoes in sizes and styles that I know and understand...

Fat city

This is belated, but I had to comment on the food on our Bavarian trip last weekend. Not that this probably comes as a surprise, but German food isn't exactly the lightest cuisine on the continent. After four days of eating nothing but hearty gut-busting fare, I felt like I was the one with a baby in my belly. Let me see if I can remember our meals (and this doesn't include breakfast buffets, afternoon stops for cake and coffee, random pastries, ice cream, beer, etc.):

Friday lunch in Heidelberg at Zum Franziskaner, Gretchen had Jägerbraten (pork roast in a mushroom sauce) and dumplings, while I had a pork steak with bärlauch (wild garlic) butter and fries.

Friday dinner in Schwäbisch Hall at the restaurant of the Haller Löwenbräu brewery (not to be confused with the Löwenbräu brewed in Munich or the crappy US imitation), Gretchen had spätzle with pork tenderloin and cheeze melted over the top, while I had Maultaschen (sort of a German cross between ravioli and lasagna) in a rich tomato sauce. Little did I know this would turn out to be the lightest thing I would eat on the trip. Incidentally, the next morning there was a great little food market right outside our hotel, and when we saw that for 1 euro we could buy a tiny little Haller Löwenbräu beer and keep the glass, who cared that it was only 9:30am--I couldn't pass up an offer like that!



Saturday lunch in Rothenburg ob der Tauber was a very special treat. As previously mentioned, it was too touristy for our taste, but when Gretchen spotted a funky pair of Birkenstocks that she simply had to have, we asked the woman helping her if there were any restaurants she liked that weren't too touristy. Sure enough, she suggested the Rödertor just outside the tourist zone. Almost as an afterthought, she mentioned that it was a Kartoffelstube, which basically translates as a cozy potato restaurant--and let me tell you, Gretchen loves potatoes. Sure enough, the menu had two entire pages with nothing but potato recipes. She went with the potatoes baked with garlic and rosemary, with a big side of pork schnitzel (breaded and fried). I had a gooey baked gratin of potatoes, spinach, cheese and garlic. Mmmmmmmm!



At that point you'd think we would just have a salad for dinner--but you'd be wrong. In Bamberg that night we stumbled upon Zum Domreiter. It turns out Bamberg is known for its Rauchbier (smoke beer), which I had to try. Sure enough, it tastes (and looks) like beer that's been smoked...better than it sounds, but one was plenty. Gretchen had the Sauerbraten (basically, German pot roast like her Oma used to make) with cabbage and a potato dumpling, while I had a plate of assorted types of local bratwurst.




The next day we were off to Regensburg, where a woman at the hotel recommended a place called Dicker Mann. Never mind how funny that name is in English--in German it means "fat man", so it was just the place for us! Gretchen opted for a bowl of potato soup and Fleischpflanzerl (basically, a Bavarian hamburger patty) with potato salad. As for me, I went with the Wienerschnitzel (breaded and fried veal, not hot dogs as many Americans think) with fries.

Dinner found us at a real Bavarian beer hall restaurant: Brauerei-Gaststätte Kneitinger. Never mind the food, which was good--what made this great was the atmosphere. It was the sort of place that only had long, communal tables. At one point all but one of the people at a neighboring table left, so the one guy who was still there just picked his beer up, moved over to our table, and started chatting with the people at the end of the table. They eventually had to leave, but another guy showed up and in no time they were chatting it up as well. From what we could tell, they didn't actually know each other but it seemed perfectly normal to converse with anyone and everyone regardless. Unfortunately they were speaking with a heavy Bavarian accent (the first time on our trip that we noticed it, actually), so Gretchen couldn't keep up. We did manage to ask someone to take our picture, though. As for food, it was sausage for both of us: bratwurst and potato salad for me, Knackers (tee hee) and sauerkraut for her.



(Sadly, the next morning we planned to stop for more bratwurst at the legendary Historische Wurstkuchl after breakfast, but it turned out neither of our stomachs were in any condition for that at 9:00am. Go figure.)

For what turned out to be our last meal in Bavaria, we were driving down the road to Neuschwanstein when we got hungry and decided we would stop at the next halfway decent-looking restaurant along the way. We randomly stumbled on Gasthof zum Lamprecht, and we took it as a good sign that the parking lot was full. We weren't prepared for what we saw when we walked in: two long tables of people decked out in full Bavarian togs. We're talking lederhosen, crazy hats, you name it. You may think that stuff is all just for tourists, but rest assured we were the only tourists in the place and they weren't putting on a show for us (as a matter of fact, we so wanted to take a picture but thought it would be rude). The food--pork schnitzel and fries for both of us--was delicious, but almost an afterthought compared to the atmosphere.

(You'd think we would eat much lighter when Dave was here--after all, when we were roommates he would read labels for the food I bought and tell me how many grams of fat it had--but sure enough we found ourselves eating the usual rösti, cheese fondue, hearty Alsatian food, etc.)

Incidentally, a good test of whether or not you could live in this part of the world would be to see if this post made you feel: (a) hungry; or (b) ill.

Some things I just don't understand

Yesterday when I saw our landlord (who lives upstairs) she gave me a big ugly chocolate bug. For the first of May, she said. Sure enough, I looked and saw it was called a Maikäfer, which is evidently a "May bug":



So I asked her if this has any special meaning (not an unreasonable question when someone gives you a chocolate bug), and she replied with something like: "Oh, yes. The 1st of May is a holiday, and we don't work that day, and we give this to each other." Well, that's much clearer. (In fairness, she was trying to explain in English.) Just when I think I'm getting a handle on how things work around here...

It's cow time

Anyone who reads this blog regularly knows that I'm a huge animal lover. More specifically, I go absolutely crazy for Swiss cows! Well, it's finally springtime in Switzerland which means one very important thing... the cows can finally come out to graze! As we drove down toward the mountains this past weekend, it was evident that the cows were getting ready to come out. The fragrant smell of cow manure was EVERYWHERE, as if the farmers were opening the barns to start to air them out. Can you imagine how bad they would stink after being closed up and full of stinky cows for a whole winter? In the lower elevations, especially around the lakes, we saw plenty of cows that were enjoying their first few bites of spring grass. Unfortunately, it was still too early for the cows who live in the mountains. They may have to wait another month or two until all the snow is gone.

Here in Basel, I had my first cow sighting of the year yesterday as I drove home from the grocery store with my friend Liz. Thankfully, Liz had her camera with her once again, and I decided to pull over on the side of the road for a few photos despite the risk of being rear-ended (Liz is also a fellow cow-lover). It was a busy road, mind you, and I'm sure all the cars behind me were wondering why on earth we were pulled over just to admire some Basel cows. Anyway, here's what we saw! Even a baby feedding! And remember, in my world, ALL cows are dairy cows.



"Why are you taking my picture?"

Hausfrau/tour guide on strike

I'm afraid I may have to go on strike soon. My big belly and this growing baby inside of it are slowing me down! Seriously, it is really hard at times to accept that I just can't do everything I used to be able to do, and that I have to rest more often, and that there's nothing wrong with that! After more than a week of nothing but playing (a long weekend in Bavaria and then hosting Dave), I've spent the last two days doing nothing other than my Hausfrau duties. I really don't mind cleaning, grocery shopping, and doing laundry, but I sware it's taking me at least twice as long as it used to because of all my "rests" on the couch. This may be hard to believe, but the laundry may be the most tiring of all. Last night, as I was complaining, Kirk asked me, "How are you going to do laundry for the next two months?" I hate to complain about our laundry situation, because I know we have it much better than many others in Switzerland, considering we have our own machines that we can use anytime of any day. But here's the trouble. The machines are in our basement. That means that I have to walk up and down the stairs dozens of times on a laundry day like today (especially considering how small the loads have to be to fit into our mini European style machines). I'm exhausted! Woe is me, I know...

I suspect my tour guide duties will also be on hold for a while. I'm feeling especially thankful this week that Dave chose to start his 10-week world tour here in Switzerland. It really was very considerate of him. I guess he had suspected that had he come any later, I may have had trouble being the hostess with the mostess, and he was right! We had such a great week with him here, but he wore me out! We did lots of exploring (as we've already posted) and traveling, as you have to do when you come to Basel. Thankfully, both Dave and Kirk were very understanding and patient when it comes to my slow pace. They had to put up with my frequent bathroom breaks, my slow walking, my regular requests to sit down and rest for a few minutes (on a bench or something), and my constant snacking demands. Somehow they never complained about my frequent requests to stop for ice cream!

I still have about 2 months to go with this pregnancy, and from now on we're pretty much Basel-bound, other than the occasional day trip. It's hard to imagine 2 whole months without traveling considering what the past 2 years have been like for us, but frankly, I'm more than happy to stick around here for a while and give my body lots of rest.

Beautiful Switzerland

Last summer when I was back in Wisconsin visiting friends and family, my friend Nanci asked me if I could name a favorite place of all the places we've traveled since living in Basel. That is a very difficult question to answer, and I pondered it for a while. Kirk and I generally love everyplace we visit, if for no other reason because there's always something new to experience... a different culture, new sights and sounds and smells, good food, interesting people... so it's hard to think of just ONE favorite. After careful contemplation, I decided my answer was this: the Swiss Alps. I truly feel there is no place more beautiful (at least based on the small piece of the world that I've seen so far). While cleaning out my parents' house a couple years ago, I found some old school work of mine (maybe from middle school) where I had written about my dream of visiting the Swiss Alps someday. Who ever would have thought that I'd be living just hours away from this spectacular region?! It really is a dream come true for me.

Once again this past weekend, I marveled at the beauty of the Alps during our quick 2-day visit to the Berner Oberland with Dave.

We stayed in a nice (albeit rustic) hotel in Grindelwald. It had to be the cheapest place we've ever stayed in Switzerland-- not because it was a dump, but because it's between seasons (in fact lots of hotels and restaurants were closed for a month) and I think they were happy to have anyone stay there! Here's the view from our balcony.



We took the train up to Kleine Scheidigg for lunch. There were still a few skiers, although the snow was really slushy and I think it was one of the last days of the ski season for this area. We were able to eat outside in the sun wearing T-shirts! Here's the view from where we sat for lunch.



On Sunday, we drove all the way around both the Brienzersee and the Thunersee (the two beautiful lakes that surround Interlaken), stopping along the way in charming towns to take pictures and enjoy the sun. I love lakes. What do you expect, I'm from Wisconsin? But these lakes are unlike any other lakes I've ever seen. The water is a really clear blue-green color that is incredible, especially when the sun is shining...



The Brienzersee once again...



Ahh... beautiful Switzerland...

Who has time for blogging?

It's been a great visit with our friend Dave (whose bag, incidentally, made it the day after he arrived). Dave's one of my closest friends. We knew each other way back in college together, then later became roommates when I moved to L.A., where he endured (among other things) my being stalked by one psycho ex-girlfriend and where we experienced the fun of both the riots in 1992 and the Northridge earthquake in 1994. (Basically the worst years in my adult life, bar none.) From there we actually both ended up at the same grad school (not intentionally), which was funny because in retrospect we wondered if we were accepted because of some sort of affirmative action program when they received applications from two men living at the same address. (Which I suppose is even funnier in retrospect because several years later Dave came out of the closet.) Since he also lives in the DC area, he and Gretchen have become close friends as well. We've all had a blast hanging out this week (Germany, France, the Alps...much more later) and getting caught up, although I suppose we're ready to kick him out and get our lives back to normal and he's ready to ditch us and embark on his awesome trip around the world. So tomorrow morning he's off to Venice (by flying first to Helsinki, which is sort of like flying from Washington to Toronto via Miami) and we're back to our usual boring routine.

Deutschland

Like Gretchen said, it was a good trip to Germany. More later about the food, but here's some of what we saw:

We made a quick stop in Heidelberg for lunch on the drive up.



After a nice drive through the Neckar River valley, we spent the first night (Good Friday) in the small and well-preserved town of Schwäbisch Hall.



The next day we entered Bavaria and went to the famous city of Rothenburg ob der Tauber on the Romantic Road. It was nice and all, but too touristy for our tastes (and I can't even imagine what it would be like in summer). The highlight was lunch, about which more later, but from there it was on to our destination of Bamberg, which was beautiful.



After spending Easter morning wandering around Bamberg, it was off to our final destination, Regensburg. Unlike the other towns we visited, it wasn't filled with half-timbered gingerbread houses. But it was still historic and attractive, and was also a bigger city so had more life than the other towns we visited.



Alas, on Easter Monday (a holiday here, believe it or not) it was time for the long drive back. We decided to take a side excursion towards Schloss Neuschwanstein, better known as the inspiration for Sleeping Beauty's Castle at Disneyland. We didn't actually want to visit the castle, but we wanted to at least see it from a distance, and we also wanted to enjoy the Bavarian countryside--mission accomplished on both counts!

We like Bavaria

Our long weekend in Bavaria was great! We ate a lot of yummy heavy German food (mainly pork, other meats, sausages, various varieties of potato products, and sauerkraut). Kirk drank lots of good Bavarian beer (and I enjoyed the few sips I had as well). We visited lots of charming towns. People were friendly and understood my German! I passed the test of successfully choosing and booking 3 different hotels in 3 different towns.

More on all of this later (including some pictures), but that's the quick update for now. I'm spending the rest of my week playing tour guide to Dave, who arrived safely and in one piece yesterday morning. Unfortunately, his bag didn't make it (and will hopefully arrive today), but considering he'll be wearing the same clothes for the next 11 weeks of travel, what's two days?

Thankfully, his small "Gretchen" bag DID make it to Zurich! His bag of goodies included a precious teddy bear for our baby-to-be, some trashy American magazines (eg. People), a bunch of new maternity clothes (both borrowed from DC friends and what I ordered online from Gap), and every expats favorite American snack-- peanut butter! Don't ask me why American Airlines managed to get this bag on the plane, but not the bag containing all of Dave's things!

It also seems that Dave brought along some spring weather from DC. FINALLY we have a forecast of sun and mild temperatures (and no rain) for the entire week! Switzerland is always beautiful, but so much more so when the sun is shining...

Nesting

Several years ago, while we were still living in Washington, I remember telling a friend one time that I had been doing some fanatic cleaning over the weekend. I remember telling her I had been scrubbing around the bathtub with an old toothbrush and that kind of thing. Her response was: "Are you pregnant?" I had no idea why she was asking... and she went on to explain this "nesting" instinct that often goes along with pregnancy. And no, I wasn't pregnant at the time. Just a cleaning fanatic.

Now I know what she means. All of a sudden I have this fanatical desire to get our house in order. There is a logical reason for this, considering our living quarters here in Basel are not huge, which means we need to rearrange furniture to make room for all the new baby stuff that will be moving in. In addition to our bedroom, we have one other large bedroom which is currently used as a guest room/office/Kirk's closet. Please excuse me, I forgot to mention that Grady thinks this is his room. Soon it will be a guest room/office/Kirk's closet/baby room. Grady will no longer have his a room.

So last weekend I started going through drawers and cupboards and boxes, and I'm amazed at the amount of junk we've accumulated in 2 years! I found some old pictures of this place when we first moved in, and we were quite clutter-free at the time. I feel this tremendous need to de-clutter at this moment. I have spent all of today continuing my "nesting". I cleaned out a couple kitchen cupboards after discovering the arrival of the annual Basel ants (yuck), I ironed a million shirts, I sorted through all of the baby "stuff" we already have (a lot!), put contact paper in the drawers of what will become the baby dresser, and sorted through a ton of my clothes that will not fit me again until next winter (if then...). Those are all being moved into the basement.

The biggest accomplishment of all was cleaning all the floors. I have a confession to make. I haven't cleaned the floors since I fired our cleaning lady. That was 6 months ago. I mean, I vacuum all the time (how can you not when you have a black lab that sheds continuously), but I never mop. I hate cleaning the floors. A couple days ago I bought a new mop contraption (and the corresponding bucket and cleaning solution) and I may no longer dread cleaning the floors! It worked like a charm! It seemed like a quite an expensive set of cleaning materials when I bought them, but now I know it's worth it. The floors will be regularly cleaned from now on.

I have a very good reason to be in a rush to get some of this cleaning and nesting done today. On our way back from our long Easter weekend in Bavaria (we leave tomorrow morning) we will be picking up a very special visitor at the Zurich airport! Dave is coming to Switzerland! Dave is one of our very bestest friends from DC, and Kirk and Dave have known each other for about 20 years. Is that right, boys? Dave was supposed to visit us in June 2004, but ended up having to change his plans at the last minute after learning that I had to unexpectedly spend the summer caring for my Mom in Wisconsin while Kirk was traveling for work. FINALLY... the day has come... and Dave will be here next Tuesday. We're very excited for his visit. We're also honored that he will be kicking off his 10-week around-the-world tour by starting at our place! I know that people from other parts of the world are known to take months at a time for travel, but this is highly unusual for Americans. It will no doubt be the trip of a lifetime for Dave and we're thrilled to be able to share in it!

I'm so Euro

Since I'm starting to resemble a Q-Tip (if not properly managed, I have the potential for a serious Greg Brady 'do), I decided today that I had to make an appointment for a haircut ASAP. Although Guy (our French hairdresser) speaks English, when I called I got someone who, when I asked "parlez-vous anglais?", promptly said "Non!" Rather than panicking, I dug deep into the recesses of my brain and found enough high school French to book a time tomorrow. At least I think that's what I did. It's entirely possible that I instead either (a) booked a haircut for sometime in 2008; (b) ordered a year's supply of Camembert cheese; or (c) have a date with a French male hairdresser this Friday night. But the important thing is that whatever I actually did, I managed to do it in French. Pardon me while I burst with pride.

ADDENDUM: I once asked my French colleague what you call an appointment with a hairdresser, and he told me it was a rendez-vous. It's entirely possible that he was messing with me, but I have to say it's a little strange to call and say you would like a rendez-vous with your hairdresser. Not that there's anything wrong with that...

Tragically unhip

We're not especially cool under any circumstances, but all the more so (or less so?) now that we're parents-to-be and living in a land where Bryan Adams and Phil Collins constitute a significant percentage of radio airplay. So every now and then, just to see what the kids are listening to these days, I'll walk over to Media Markt to see if there's anything worth listening to. (You can bring almost any CD to listening stations, which I have to say is a highly effective sales tool that should be replicated by any music store worth its salt. But I digress.) So a couple of weeks ago I stopped in and found myself listening to what turned out to be a greatest-hits collection by a group called Massive Attack. I had heard of them before but being unhip didn't know anything about them...actually, with a name like that I guess I figured they were a metal band, but couldn't have been more wrong. Instead it sounded a bit like a mix of Moby, Everything But the Girl, maybe a little bit of Texas, with even a dash of Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon thrown in. I'm probably not doing it justice, but with the headphones on it sounded like it would kick some serious ass on the iPod (which I have since confirmed), so I splurged and bought it. Anyway, I brought it home and was playing it when Gretchen walked in and the following conversation ensued:

G: What is this?
ME: They're called Massive Attack. Evidently it's "trip hop".
G: Trip hop? What's that?
ME: Ummmm--I think it's a genre?
G: Huh...

Now I'm living in fear that she's going to ask me the difference between house and trance music and I'm going to have to admit how little I really know about pop culture.

This is getting ridiculous

What Heather said. And today it snowed. Again. In April. And the forecast for tomorrow?:



Enough already!

A bright sunshiny day

Today it's once again rainy and chilly, but yesterday was one of those beautiful spring days (perhaps due to a Föhn?) that absolutely must be taken advantage of. So we decided to take Grady over to Lange Erlen, a park in Basel featuring a rather half-assed zoo (where Grady almost tried to get into it with the goats, tough guy that he thinks he is, and where we saw the storks mentioned in the previous post). The main reason we wanted to go there was to have a nice walk along the Wiese River. Dozens of dogs were scampering and swimming, and while Grady snapped at a few of them, overall he did really well. Best of all, he actually walked into the water up to his ankles. You'd think that wouldn't be a big deal, but since he's the only lab on the planet who doesn't like water, we were pretty happy.



Since we were in the neighborhood, we then decided to visit a Basel landmark I had never seen: the Dreiländereck. This is a sculpture marking the point where, in principle at least, Switzerland, France and Germany meet. It's quite underwhelming: it's in an ugly, industrial part of Basel on a rather unattractive stretch of the Rhine, and if I never see it again my life will be no less complete. On the other hand, it did give me an opportunity to do my best Titanic impersonation. (Although, never having actually seen the movie--despite my fondness for Kate Winslet--I think I said "I'm on top of the world!" instead of "I'm the king of the world!" So sue me.)



After a couple hours of walking around, we were in dire need of sustenance (a common theme with a wife who is 7 months pregnant), so we found an outdoor cafe in nearby Riehen where they had strawberry cake--and few things in this world make Gretchen happier than cake.



Alas, all good things must end: after going downtown on a still-sunny evening to meet friends for dinner, we left the restaurant to find that was raining once again (and naturally, half of us were wearing leather jackets and none of us had umbrellas)...

Return of the storks

Despite our recent odd bout of unpredictable Aprilwetter, there are several signs that spring is finally on its way: daffodils blooming in our yard, birds chirping, the delicate aroma of pig poop in the air, etc. But perhaps the surest sign that spring is near is that the storks have made their return to Basel. After seeing a few of them in the field near our house a few weeks ago, we saw several of them when we were out yesterday. I'm telling you, there's just something about storks that makes me smile (and not just because of our current situation).

Travel planning

Considering that I am the unemployed member of our household, one might assume that I do all of our trip planning. But that assumption would be wrong. Prior to moving here, I had assumed that it would be part of my job description as Hausfrau, but, as it turns out, Kirk is the primary travel planner in our family. During our time here in Basel, we have learned that the two of us have very different styles of travel planning. (When I refer to "travel planning", I'm generally talking about choosing hotels, which could also mean choosing towns/cities to visit if we're going to more than one place.)

My process goes something like this. Go online, search for hotels in the town/city we're planning to visit, then read a few reviews of these hotels (primarily on Trip Advisor), get tired of doing too much research, and eventually just pick one because I've had enough online reading and can't take the pressure anymore. I generally feel that whatever hotel I pick will be good enough.

Kirk's process goes something like this. Go online, search for hotels in the town/city we're planning to visit, then read all the reviews of these hotels (using Trip Advisor and every other possible online resource), make numerous spreadsheets outlining all the pros and cons of each hotel, agonize over it for a while, go back online and read more, agonize about it again, and eventually book a place, hoping it will be OK.

As you can see from my description, the process of choosing hotels is a perfect example of a key personality difference between Kirk and Gretchen. Kirk is a perfectionist, and I tend to do things a bit half-assed. For the good of our marriage, I have generally deferred all travel-related decisions to Kirk. I have to admit that his choices are (almost) always perfect! There was just one exception to this rule, which was last fall when we went to Burgundy for our anniversary and he vetoed my choice of a hotel in town and opted for a very isolated chateau in the country. You may recall that after 2 (miserable) nights in the chateau we left early and spent the last (very happy) night my chosen hotel in town. In general, however, I'm very happy to have him make our hotel arrangements and pay the bill. That way I just get to go along for the ride!

Next weekend, I will be facing a travel test of sorts. We've decided to spend the long Easter weekend (both Friday and Monday are holidays in Switzerland) on a brief driving tour of Bavaria. No more flying for me, so the rest of our pre-baby trips will be in a car or on a train. As you know, Bavaria is a big place and there's no way to can cover it in 4 days. We've decided to skip Munich on this trip (since it deserves it's own weekend excursion) and focus instead on some of the small towns in northern Bavaria. Somehow I ended up making the arrangements for this trip! Not only did I choose the 3 towns we'll be staying in (Schwäbisch Hall, Bamberg, and Regensburg), but I also chose the 3 hotels-- and without ANY consultation with Kirk! I had offered to talk through my top choices with him, but he deferred to me and asked me to book them without even looking up the hotels online. Wow. This is scary.

I'm proud to say that we have 3 hotels booked for next weekend, and my work is done. Stay tuned after Easter to see what Kirk thought of my choices...

By the way, for any of you Germany experts out there, I realize that Schwäbisch Hall is not in Bavaria, but we wanted to see it and it's on the way to the other towns, so I just lumped it into the category of Bavarian towns.

At your service

I've been traveling for work fairly extensively for about the past 5 years or so, and yet until my recent trip to Cairo there was one thing I had amazingly never done: order room service in the hotel. That's partly because I tend to have a lot of work dinners and partly because when I don't have a work dinner, going out to eat is a nice treat. Room service always seemed like such a waste when there was good local food to eat. But when I was in Cairo my hotel wasn't near restaurants, I had to do some work in my room, and they had Lebanese/Egyptian food on the room service menu, so I figured why not? And despite my reluctance, I have to say I rather enjoyed it. Now I'm sitting in my hotel room in Frankfurt where I decided to order in because I had a bit of a stomachache and so skipped out on a work dinner. Since eating out is one of my great pleasures I don't think it will become a regular thing, but I have to say there's something kind of nice about being able to kick off my shoes while watching BBC and not feeling like a leper sitting at a table for one in some chichi restaurant. (And with all due respect, missing a night on the town in Frankfurt isn't exactly a terrible loss...)

Die Hebamme

If you're going to have a baby in Switzerland, as we are, then Hebamme is an important German word to learn. It means midwife. I'm not sure that the term midwife is used much in the US. It's definitely not as common as it is here. At home, I think of it as being used only in a context of alternative birthing methods. I suppose at home the women who help in the delivery room are simply called labor and delivery nurses. And frankly, I don't know if there's a difference in what the nurses in the US do to assist in that process vs. what the midwives do at the Swiss hospitals. And I don't know whether there's a different training/education process to get them to that point. But regardless, I've already learned that midwives are VERY important here, and the term is often used during our prenatal classes, and during our doctor's visits.

Anyway, last night we met our first Hebamme. Once a month, the hospital where I'll be delivering offers a tour in English for parents-to-be. There were just 4 of us, and the other couple is a British couple who are also in our prenatal class. I have to admit that I was a bit nervous and anxious about the hospital tour, even though part of me was also looking forward to it. Let's be honest. No matter how excited you are about having a baby, NOBODY is excited about the actually process of having the baby (eg. the delivery), and seeing a delivery room just makes it that much more real. It's terrifying to me. I try to keep myself calm by remembering that millions of women have done it, that millions of women around the world do it every day, and, most importantly, that I'm a strong woman (or at least I like to think so).

In addition, I don't like hospitals in general. Unlike my sister, who works in a hospital and is totally comfortable in the environment, my only experience with hospitals is visiting sick people. More specifically, I spent so many days in Madison hospitals over the past few years when both of my parents were fighting awful diseases that ultimately took their lives. Hospitals just bring back too many icky feelings for me.

All that being said, I have to say I was pleasantly surprised at the positive experience during our hospital tour last night. The midwife who took us on the tour was very nice, and calming, and kept a good sense of humor through our endless questions. It was actually somewhat reassuring to see the delivery rooms and the midwives that would be assisting in the delivery. It's a small, private hospital (only 3 delivery rooms), which makes it feel not quite so institutional. We saw the rooms where we would wait if we came to the hospital in early labor but weren't quite ready for delivery (some of which had nice balconies overlooking the surrounding park), we learned who to call at the hospital when we think it's time to be admitted (when contractions are about 10 minutes apart for about an hour), and even how to get into the hospital if we come in the middle of the night. I love how I just used "we" in all of those sentences! I don't have to do all this labor stuff alone, do I?!

Finally!

For years now, Kirk and I have been trying to get a picture of a very special landmark in our neighborhood. OK, it couldn't be "for years", considering we've only lived here for 2 years, but it seems like forever since we first spotted it! The problem is that we see it only rarely, and at those momemts we never seem to have the camera in the car when passing by. But, lo and behold, today it was spotted, as I drove with a friend on a neighborhood sightseeing and grocery store tour (Liz is new to Basel and needed to be introduced to Gartenstadt, which is where I do most of my shopping). Thankfully, Liz had a camera with her because I had mentioned we might drive into the hills and take a look at some old castle ruins. Thankfully, as well, Liz was not shy about jumping out of the car and snapping a very priceless photo of our treasured neighborhood PUSSY WAGON! Here it is-- at long last!



Let's be clear about this, I don't know exactly what this van is all about, I don't know why it's called that, and I don't know who lives there. But, as much as I hate the dreaded "P" word, a sighting of the wagon always makes me smile!

(By the way, the tour got even better as we drove up to see the castle ruins above Arlesheim and then stopped in for coffee and cake at the Schlosshof Dornach , one of our favorite summer-restaurants-with-a-view. Now we know that it's also good in the other-than-summer-months for Apfelwähe and Zwetschgenwähe and Heisse Schokolade!)

The talk of the town

If blogs are any indication of the current gossip, then certainly yesterday's freak snow storm is truly the talk of Switzerland! I can say this quite confidently because I think every expat-in-Switzerland blog that I know of wrote about the crazy April weather we experienced yesterday. Thanks to two of our fellow expat blogger's entries about the snow (The Big Finn and Ms Mac), I learned a new German (or should I say Swiss?) expression about the obviously unpredictable weather during the month of April. I thought it was ironic that both of them wrote about it, and imagine my surprise when I read the same expression in the Baslerstab (a free, local newspaper): April macht, was er will! This translates loosely to "April does what it wants". True, true.

Today was still quite cool, but the sun has been shining most of the day (and the snow has all melted), giving me reason to believe once again that spring is just around the corner...

The battle of Switzerland

As I mentioned yesterday, there has been a war of words in the letters to the editor of the FT about Switzerland. I can't link to the letters themselves because you have to be a subscriber, but I'll do my best to paraphrase or steal the best quotes. Oddly enough, it all evidently started with an article about how London has become a financial hot spot. In response to that article--which I don't think mentioned Switzerland at all--an expat living we'll call Ms. H in Zurich wrote a letter to the editor last Wednesday that included the following:

"...London is little more than a series of villages strung together by broken train rails and supported by a miserable infrastructure...the public transport system is filthy and dilapidated...Anyone who has spent even an hour in Zurich knows that trains in Switzerland are so punctual one can literally set one's (Rolex) watch by them...I finally settled here because I can combine a fantastic career and be water-skiing n the lake just minutes after work...It's good to be an adult in Switzerland. I wish I could say the same for London."

Well, as they say...it's on! The next day brought two counter-arguments. According to the first, from Munich:

"While not wishing to dispute the characterisation of London's infrastructure as described by your well-credentialed water-skiing correspondent Ms. H, it is quite difficult to imagine a country that has tried harder than Switzerland not to be at the centre of anything to do with Europe...I would venture a guess that the diversity of vibrant cultural influences and traditions to be found in the filthy, ill-mannered backstreets of London would knock the stuffing out of Zurich's stuffy, self-satisfied social scene."

And the second, from an expat living in Lugano:

"...I would give Ms. H a few more years to see if she changes her opinion slightly after having her trash and paper recycling looked into by her neighbours, her personal financial/legal records searched on the internet by her colleagues...Everything works here like a dream, really. But you pay for that by being surrounded by pathetically boring people and no culture. The Swiss make rules for everyone else, but they themselves are exempt as and when they please. They are as stingy with their emotions as they are with their pocketbooks."

Zing! Naturally it couldn't stop there. On Friday there were two more responses, the first an appeal to reason:

"...Can anyone name a city of a similar size, say in the UK or the US, with more culture and fewer pathetically boring people?...I have always explained the boredom of Geneva by its lack of a critical size rather than by accusing the Swiss people, culture and character...Zurich certainly offers a fantastic quality of life for people ready to live at a slightly slower pace than they would in London. And in any case, Europe's more vibrant cities are only an hour's flight away."

This was followed by a letter from Vienna slamming Swiss business:

"...In the realm of business, the Swiss have paid dearly in the last few years for their national approach...the picture is just not what appears to be; and morally, well, need much more be said about what we now know about the shameful behaviour of Swiss banks?...Great skiing, wonderful cheese and wine, chocaholic heaven and super toy stores--news that merits merely a postcard."

After a weekend break, they were back at it. First there was a retort from an expat (at least I think so) from Zug, regarding the earlier letter from Lugano:

"Please join in my quest to free the Lugano One. I hope that my campaign will succeed in freeing your correspondent from her Swiss hellhole. She is clearly being held against her will, and being denied the opportunity to encounter the vomiting traders and chippy English burglars that so enrich life in London."

This was supplemented by another response to the same letter:

"I wonder...if we actually live in the same city: Lugano...Give me call (I live just across the lake from you) and let's join some of my friends at the Grotto Ticinese for a good Swiss--or Texan--steak and a bottle of Merlot! You'll see for yourself if we are so boring, after all."

Followed by another appeal to reason, this time from London:

"Your correspondents prove beyond doubt that any comparison between two cities of totally different size, geographic location and history is invidious to both. A comparison of Zurich with Southampton or Leeds might be fairer, and highlight the relative successes and failures of urban societies of similar sizes better...Zurich was the city which kept the creative spirit of German literature alive during the dark years of the Nazi era. Zurich cinemas are a true showcase of global cinema, with foreign films exhibited in the original language, in contrast to the ghastly dubbing which is the norm in Germany and France."

By Tuesday things showed no signs of slowing down. There was a letter from a former Swiss resident of London:

"The Swiss never had victories on battlefields to speak of, never had colonies, never had social upheavals or revolutions, never had social disasters. The Swiss, unlike their neighbours, do not even strike. The Swiss have no poets, no composers, few philosophers, and hardly any painters and writers of international acclaim. No wonder the Swiss are dull. However, when we measure wealth and quality of life not just as gross domestic product per capita but add some less tangible factors such as functionality of infrastructure, medical care and pension system, as well as level of education and safety of our children on their way to school, Switzerland actually is paradise. So wealth and dullness are not mutually exclusive, but potentially mutually inclusive. Oscar Wilde must have been thinking of the Swiss when he said: 'It is better to have a permanent income than to be fascinating.'"

Then another blow is struck for Switzerland, this time by a former Londoner living in Riehen (just outside of Basel):

"...what has finally driven me to desert my home country is the marked drop in courtesy levels. Increasingly, Britain is marked by a 'Me first' culture. Not only is there an unacceptably high crime rate but there is also aggressive language and threatening behaviour which is symptomatic of the decline in respect for fellow-citizens. Traditional values are still very much in evidence in Switzerland. Punctuality is a given, as is polite behaviour at all times. Service standards are extremely high. This stress-inhibiting quality of life more than compensates in my book for any perceived boredom factor or lack of cultural variety."

But this was tempered by a quote someone else sent in, which must be one of my favorites:

"With reference to recent correspondence, perhaps Sir Peter Ustinov (a long-time resident in Switzerland) may be allowed the last word on the subject: 'In Switzerland, practically everything is forbidden. What is not forbidden, is compulsory.'

All of which brings us to today, which featured only one response (perhaps the battle is losing steam?)--yet another taking the Swiss side, this time from someone in the UK:

"The recent 'London versus Zurich' debate in the letters column should be broadened to consider which elements of Switzerland would enhance the British way of life. How about neutrality, independence from the EU, an extension of democracy by referendums, banking secrecy laws, the attraction of foreign private capital and savings, immigration laws that actually work, superb public services, low taxation, an excellent transport infrastructure and an ability to attract the spending power of wealthy overseas citizens just for starters? Can any reader seriously tell me that the above list, included in any UK political party's manifesto, would not result in a landslide (as opposed to an avalanche) victory at the next general election?"

And that--almost certainly my longest post ever--is the debate about expat life in Switzerland in a nutshell. I've not inserted many of my own views, but maybe I'll reflect on it on my train ride to Frankfurt tomorrow (try not to be too jealous) and think about a response when I get back...

Five hours later...

...and it's STILL snowing! And to think that yesterday was sunny and 60 and I spent the afternoon laying in a lounge chair in our backyard in a tank top and shorts hoping to rejuvenate my Phuket tan...



At least Grady is happy about the snow...

It's April 5...

...and it's SNOWING! Somebody make it stop! When will it be spring?

Can this be true?

So this afternoon I was flipping through the Financial Times (and no, I don't mean that to sound elitist--it's circulated around our office, and while I enjoy it, I'd read Parade or the Billings Gazette if they came to my office regularly), and I came across an article about a study listing desireable cities for Asian expats. I probably wouldn't have paid much attention, but something caught my eye...sure enough, it mentioned Basel. So I found the press release from the study, and it turns out that Basel was named the 10th best city in the world for Asian expats (I can't help but wonder if my Japanese colleagues would agree with that assessment). I noticed that the press release said that Basel was considered the top location for Europeans, so I poked around and while I can't be sure I'm reading this correctly because it's in German, I think they consider Basel to be the top city for expats in Europe. There actually are a lot of things about Basel that make it expat-friendly (no Basel-bashing here tonight), but I'm still not sure if I had to pick any city in Europe to live in that it would be my number one. Copenhagen, Amsterdam, Berlin, Dublin, Paris, London, Madrid, Rome? You bet. But Basel? Go figure. (Incidentally, there has been a full-scale war of letters to the editor in the FT for the past week about whether Switzerland is a wonderland or hell on earth. More on that later...)

(I was pleased to note that ever since I was invited to Karachi, I've been saying that the only places I'd want to visit less are Baghdad and Kabul. Sure enough, the study for Asian expats named Karachi the third-worst city to live in behind...Baghdad and Kabul! It's actually considered worse than Haiti, Palestine and Sudan. Suffice it to say that while I'm sure it has its charms, I don't feel so bad about trying to get out of a trip there...)

U-C-L-A-Fight-Fight-Fight

While my bracket was a total disaster, Duke unfortunately flamed out in the Sweet Sixteen, the championship game doesn't start until 3:30am Basel time tonight and it won't be on TV here even if I wanted to stay up, I still have a rooting interest: the UCLA Bruins. UCLA is one of my alma maters, although I only spent one year there and the time difference makes it hard to keep up with basketball, so while I'm more than a bandwagon fan, I'm probably not much better than a fair-weather fan. But no matter--tonight I'll go to bed doing an 8-clap and hoping for a Bruin victory over Florida. (Besides, how can you not root for a team that has a player with a name like Luc Richard Mbah a Moute?)

Not only that, but while the Duke men may have bombed, the women's team plays for the national championship tomorrow night against the evil Maryland Terps. (No matter what happens, though, it sounds like a terribly ugly scene in Durham revolving around an alleged gang rape by members of the lacrosse team.)

My cheering for a team is pretty much a guarantee they'll lose, but I'll try anyway: Go Bruins! Go Blue Devils!