The day we arrived was still and sunny, a perfect summer day. K's host father met us at the station; he hadn't changed a bit in the ten years since we'd last seen him. It must be the Swiss sun - if he had been in Australia he would have shrivelled up like a sultana years ago, but he was just ageless, which was rather comforting. We spent the night with the host parents, M and her two lovely kids eating good food outside in the warmth.
The next morning the host parents headed off on a little getaway they had planned weeks in advance, leaving us to go about our business of relaxing, sleeping in, and then eventually going out to meet M and the kids at the swimming pool for a lazy picnic near the pool - we weren't swimming, so were just dressed for summer in shorts and jandals.
To get to the quiet shady spot under the trees out the back of the swimming complex, we had to navigate through a labrynthine entry hall arrangement. We paid our entry and were then ignored and left to our own devices, like we should know what to do next. We thought we'd try going through the changing rooms and, hopefully, out the other side. Nope, that wasn't it. We backtracked into reception, looking bewildered and foreign; alas they still assumed we'd know what to do. Maybe it's through the main pool area? We gave it a go - through the glass doors and down the steps near the pool. Well that got them interested in us - the attendant (Bademeister) appeared from nowhere, regarding us with a mixture of incredulity and trepidation, as if wondering if anyone could genuinely be so stupid, or was this some sort of elaborate joke at his expense?
We explained our predicament, that we were trying to find a friend who was outside by a pool, but there were no signs to suggest how we might achieve this. He showed us through with a long-suffering shake of the head.
The picnic was lovely and relaxed under the shade of a tree, away from all those pesky other visitors who were actually using the pools. We then headed back to M's place and played with the kids for an hour or two while she prepared a delicious dinner.
We left M's husband M (M&Ms? delicious) at home with the kids and went into Winterthur for the music festival. We saw King Pepe performing his Pepe Jazz album; modern Swiss-German jazz. He was a really charismatic performer and there was a good atmosphere on the Kirchplatz, and a beautiful evening.
Unfortunately we both took ill the next couple of days, so missed our planned hike in the alps. M&M took me to Zurich on the second day of sickness. I was out of breath just walking beside the gorgeous lake, so would have had no chance in the Alps. After lunch at a little Asian Imbiss, we caught a ferry back to where we'd started.
My last day in Winterthur was spent visiting the Fotomuseum, which was showing three excellent exhibitions including a Lewis Hine (reproduced below without permission) and a hilarious mini exhibition of photos of Swiss chalets that are used to camouflage the entrances to underground army bunkers. We'd heard about this cunning ruse already so it was good to see it was an acknowledged military practice; those 120 guys who walked into the same chalet weren't just going for a giant Twister party.
Our send off from Switzerland was decidedly un-Swiss. M's father had taken us to the train station and we were waiting for the next train to Zurich (where we had to change for the incredible super-fast 350kmh+ French TGV service to Paris). As we waited, a rail employee approached us and told us to take shelter in the railway station equivalent of the military chalet - a waiting room - because a train full of football supporters was approaching and we were liable to get rubbish and abuse thrown at us. We watched from our zoo cage as the drunk supporters dealt with the disappointment of an empty platform, then carried on their way. I followed them on the next train, arriving home 40 hours later.
No comments:
Post a Comment