Lenin & I

I’ve been in Zurich a week.
There’s many things I like about it, but I wouldn’t want to live here.
I think an encounter with a city is similar to an encounter with a person. It’s difficult to tell when you meet someone for the first time whether you’ll be friends, foes, lovers. Or that you’ll remain casual acquaintances, pleasant strangers reduced to fragmented bytes of cyber information. It’s slower, a more gradual process of getting to know someone, some place, some city.
Perhaps. Read more


Bern is lovely.
Quite like an auntie you’re a little in awe of – she’s beautiful, smells nice, dresses very elegantly and speaks in a tone of hushed and genteel eloquence. In front of her you feel a bit of a grimy ragamuffin.
Bern is not far from Zurich (but then, what is?) – about 50 minutes by train. It’s located in the “middle land” area of Switzerland, and the journey there takes you through expansive countryside of softly rolling hills and clear rivers with pretty castle-houses on their banks. Read more

The Southern Touch

Friday, the 3rd of June, was special.
For starters, I was up at 6.15 am.
I put face wash on my toothbrush. I am not a morning person.
Brigett and I were on a tram by 6.30 & on our way out of Zurich on a train half an hour later. It was going to be a long journey – three hours south would get us almost to the Italian border. Read more


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.

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