Success, Part 2
You'd think it would be hard to match the excitement of the cowbell, but little did we know that a second quest would soon be over shortly. We noticed an antique place (or, rather, a Brocante) near the cowbell shop that we decided to check out. As we were walking up, Gretchen reminded me that she was really hoping to find an old pair of wooden skis from back in the day. I think it's a Swiss regulation that every Alpine hotel has to have a few ancient pairs of skis as part of the decor. Every time we go to the mountains, it's all I can do to keep Gretchen from prying them off the wall and smuggling them out in her ski bag.
So what was the first thing we saw when we walked up? An old pair of skis! They had not just one, but two pairs out in front, with more in the back. We opted for the relatively newer pair (he figured they were from the 1950s), in part because unlike the others they would (barely) fit in our car.
So when we get back to the States, our house is going to be seriously rocking the Stübli style. (On a related note, we decided that our acquisition of the cowbell and skis, combined with my earlier purchase of an old-school broom, meant that a cuckoo clock would a bit too over the top.)
On top of that, the place was called "zum Bebbi", so we asked the guy running the place if he was from Basel (Baslers are known informally as Bebbis). He said he was, but that he had to get out of Basel because there was "too much noise, too dirty, too much stress". Which just goes to show that everything is relative, since when people ask us what we think of Basel, among the first adjectives that tend to come to mind are quiet, clean and relaxed. (Then again, we've been cautioned that parts of Basel are basically ghettos--y'know, where the immigrants live--that should be avoided, especially at night, yet I wouldn't hesitate to walk in most of those areas at 2:00am.)
So what was the first thing we saw when we walked up? An old pair of skis! They had not just one, but two pairs out in front, with more in the back. We opted for the relatively newer pair (he figured they were from the 1950s), in part because unlike the others they would (barely) fit in our car.
So when we get back to the States, our house is going to be seriously rocking the Stübli style. (On a related note, we decided that our acquisition of the cowbell and skis, combined with my earlier purchase of an old-school broom, meant that a cuckoo clock would a bit too over the top.)
On top of that, the place was called "zum Bebbi", so we asked the guy running the place if he was from Basel (Baslers are known informally as Bebbis). He said he was, but that he had to get out of Basel because there was "too much noise, too dirty, too much stress". Which just goes to show that everything is relative, since when people ask us what we think of Basel, among the first adjectives that tend to come to mind are quiet, clean and relaxed. (Then again, we've been cautioned that parts of Basel are basically ghettos--y'know, where the immigrants live--that should be avoided, especially at night, yet I wouldn't hesitate to walk in most of those areas at 2:00am.)
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