To begin with, there was mooing on the train. Not an ordinary public transport train – the train that took you from arrivals to immigration & baggage claim. Yes, there was a nice-man-sounding voice telling us why we were hurtling through the tunnel, then tinkly music, and then cows mooing. I don’t know why. But I must admit I’m intrigued. It was the strangest introduction to a city.

I’m in Zurich. It’s clean. It’s pretty. It reminds me of Shillong somehow. Perhaps because of the pine tree hills ringing the town. That’s probably the only reason.
We’re staying in an area called albisreiden on the west – the last stop on tram 3 line. The public transport is so good, even I can’t get lost. Ridiculous.
I strain to hear English though. Funny how along with people you can miss a language. I’m trying to decipher signs – in shops, on roads. It’s not too difficult. They’re usually warning you of what you can’t or shouldn’t do. The same the world over.
My favourite part of the city so far is district 1 – the oldest part. In its honour, I promise to dedicate an entire post on the area. With pictures so you won’t get bored or suspect I’m making things up.
Today, we went grocery shopping (expensive) and climbed down a hill (free).
We’re staying in an old farmhouse with a Swiss couple named David and Brigett who are lovely, kind and gentle. The place is small, cozy and filled with sketches, photographs, art prints and quirky odds and ends. And a fat old cat who mostly ignores me.
What I do love, however, is the church nearby with a soaring steeple. Not because I’m particularly religious. There’s a far more poetic reason I’m afraid. It was struck by lightening a long time ago, and the clock is perpetually stuck on midnight. Or noon. Whichever way you choose look at it. I like that. I like that of all the places I could be living in – in a country obsessed with precision and efficiency – I’m near a clock that refuses to work.

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