El Andalous - Settling Back

I Hope Everyone had a Merry Christmas!

It’s strange being back. The overwhelming feeling is that nothing has changed and it’s as if I’ve never been away. Yet, a number of things have changed (shops have closed, beaches are empty, a children’s playground has opened), indicating that I must have been elsewhere else in the mean time. But, somehow, that doesn’t really dawn on me; it completely washes over my head.

This is in contrast to Europe. In Europe, when I return after months or years away, I see what’s new since I was last there, and it makes me realize that time has passed, that my life has also gone on, that other people’s lives have progressed. I’m very aware of it.

Maybe it doesn’t affect me in the same way in Egypt because it’s part of the essence of being in Egypt that things always change from one moment to the next. Each time you go into Hurghada, some shops have closed, new ones have opened. I’m on the lookout for change in Sahl Hasheesh, because I report it in my newsletters. So, on the one hand, you have a sense of eternity in Egypt with the constant sunshine day in, day out, and then on the other hand, life is full of continual change, and rumour, and you’re never quite sure what will surprise you next. It’s so continual that it becomes constant and part of the very being of life in Egypt. It’s as if nothing has changed at all.

So, it was business as usual. Having said that, I was jolted into the sense that I’d been away when there were things I couldn’t remember. I’d forgotten exactly how I’d organized my beach routine (which towel did I decide was the best, what things did I need to remember to take with me?), there were items in my flat I’d completely forgotten I had (Isis chamomile tea? Which herb is in that unmarked container?), and when the delivery man handed over the flowers I’d received from my brother as a Christmas present, I worried about tipping all over again.

Other things were different but perfectly normal. My shower didn’t work when I got back. They fixed it for me really quickly (something had to be pushed out and it had been pushed in). My mobile phone no longer worked and it wasn’t even that old – it won’t charge the battery. I wasn’t so bothered by this, but Esmat was very keen on my arrival that I get my phone working and Safi was likewise anxious about how I could survive without a mobile for two weeks. Egypt remained – if only, thankfully, in a minor way – the land where things go wrong.

I went to have my breakfast one morning only to find a kitten looking at me from the sofa on my balcony, just where I wanted to sit! The next evening it was accompanied by its brother or sister and the two of them stared at me with pleading eyes through the patio doors; the next morning a third kitten had joined them and I opened my curtains in the morning to find them spread out on my balcony furniture like they owned the place. I relented and gave them some milk and then they didn’t return after that. This is Egypt – the land of the unpredictable.

I’d had a hectic social schedule in Zurich before leaving and had expected some quiet down time once I’d arrived in Egypt, but actually it’s been equally busy here on the social front. I’ve been on the weekly bus to Senzo Mall (and KFC), I was invited to Christmas celebrations on 24th and 25th December. Apparently, when you buy a turkey over here, it’s not the sanitized version you get in Europe, with a plastic bag of giblets, and a neat, tidy bundle of a bird. In Egypt it’s a hunking great brute. It’s been plucked, but inside, instead of a plastic bag of giblets, you’ll find its neck and head. You’re very aware that it’s a real bird that you’re cooking. After a morning swim, I did nothing but eat on 25th December. Actually, 24th December was much the same. After that, I attended a Boxing Day party on the evening of 26th December. It was probably my most sociable Christmas ever.

By the time I go home, I will have had at least two dinners out, too, and then there have been the Saturday owners’ meetings, as well as coffees with Safi. I feel fully back into the fray.

El Andalous - Back to Dream

El Andalous - View of Fountain from my Balcony

Annoyingly, my flight to Hurghada had halved in price by the time I flew back (I guess due to the allegedly bombed plane from Sharm El Sheikh having put people off going to the Red Sea), so my attempt to be organized and grab a cheap flight by booking early back in May had backfired. Nevertheless, it was a smooth journey. The plane was half-full and the passengers laughed when the pilot announced that it was 26 degrees and a cloudless sky in Hurghada. Even on the plane, I still couldn’t quite believe it.

We landed in the new terminal, which I’m not so well acquainted with, so the arrival didn’t really feel like a homecoming. Maybe the culture is still too different, or my skills in the language still too weak, for me to feel that it is home.

I arrived early but Esmat was already there to meet me off the plane and I reflected on how much easier it was now that I knew people and I had established myself. The sun was shining, the air was warm. The sense of homecoming began and happiness filled my soul.

We stopped off at Senzo Mall so that I could do some shopping and get a KFC. The man who packs my bags at the till in Spinneys recognized me; the person serving me in the KFC remembered what I used to order (“no coleslaw but extra chips?”). I was astonished. The Egyptians have such good memories. I went into Vodafone but they couldn’t answer all my questions because their system was down. Ah yes, I was back in Egypt.

We arrived back at El Andalous and before I had time to pick up my luggage, Ajay and his girlfriend were there, eagerly asking me how things were and updating me as Esmat brought my bags into the complex. They departed off to dinner, I think, I greeted the staff and followed the person taking my luggage to the door of my flat. Fortunately, I still had my key, after 8 months.

The flat was clean! It was wonderful. I sat down on my sofa and suddenly felt completely at home, like I’d never left. It was a strange sensation. I’d left Zurich really quite sad to be leaving Switzerland and questioning why I was going to Egypt, but now I was here, it felt like home. I’ve never had that sensation before, of having two utterly different places feel like home and being in both on the same day.

I feasted on my KFC and sat and watched two films on the television. It’s been ages since I’ve had the luxury of being able just to veg out. I sat there feeling fully content and wondering why that very morning work, and continuing to work, had seemed like such a good idea.

The next day, I woke up to bright sunshine and a pleasant heat and I had my breakfast on my balcony. It was like nothing had changed (if you ignore the fact that the cleaners had shifted my furniture to different places and found different locations for things in my kitchen). I had the weirdest sensation that Zurich had just been a dream, or was Egypt the dream? I can’t really marry up the two worlds as both belonging to my life. Now, I couldn’t believe that Zurich existed and was cold with grey skies. The fountain was gushing beside me, the gardens looked beautiful, it was wonderfully warm and the young boys who work as gardeners greeted me as they walked past.

I don’t know if I’ve just been lucky, but I was astonished at the number of people I bumped into or socialized with on the first few days. I hadn’t realized how many people I knew. The day I arrived I bumped into Steve in the corridor – it was his last day before returning to the UK. Safi appeared the next morning (I’ll maybe leave that story for another day) to take me back to the Vodafone shop. When I went for my swim in the afternoon, I met two people I know (one from Germany, one from Russia). The next day I went to see the horse jumping competition that was being hosted in Sahl Hasheesh and bumped into Amanda and John. Then in the evening I met up with Nicole (we went out for a meal) and the next day I chatted to Ksenia on the beach in the afternoon and then later Kathryn and Stephen. I was well and truly back. That otherworldly sense of timelessness took hold. I had returned to dreamland.

Zurich - Preparing for Egypt

From Sunnier Days at Badi Enge in Zurich
 "If I were a ship, it would be too late, so look ahead".
True, literally and metaphorically.

Geraldine emailed me one day saying that she was finding it hard to imagine that it could possibly be hot and sunny in Egypt, even though she knew full well that it was. I am currently experiencing the same difficulty. I look outside at the grey sky and I try to fantasise what it’s like to have a blue sky and for it to be warm enough to sit outside and eat my breakfast on my balcony, but my imagination fails me. I just feel cold as soon as I even think about being outside and I associate hot with having too many covers on my bed and it being vaguely unpleasant. But I know I revelled in feeling the sun on my face again on my Turkish holiday. I know my imagination has got it wrong! Nevertheless, I still fail to get it into my head. Egypt is like a little made-up world in my head that doesn’t actually exist.

I’m preparing myself psychologically for returning to the land where everything goes wrong for me, which is in sharp contrast to this year in Switzerland, where everything’s gone right.

I’ve asked for my flat in Egypt to be cleaned before my arrival but am already fretting that maybe they’ll forget to do it. I’ve even had nightmares of arriving to a flat with heaps of dust, or a flat where the sea is now overlapping over my balcony and all my belongings are ruined, or all my items are broken. I don’t know why I’m worrying about it, really, because it’s always been cleaned when I’ve requested it and I’ve never heard of anyone being let down (dissatisfied, maybe, but not let down).

If I hear a strange noise at night, even here in immaculate Switzerland, a part of me panics that it might be the return of the rodents. So, that’s another thing for me to worry about. What if the rats have come back and they run to the door to great me?

I’m scared that I’m going to find the sea too cold for my liking (although, since it was an exceptionally hot summer this year, it should be warmer than usual). The fish would be horrified to know that I’m even feeling a little apprehensive about them – if I decide to practice front crawl in the sea, how will they react to my splashing about in their waters in a manic fashion? Will they come and attack me? Is it really going to be that warm while I’m there??

On the other hand, of course, I am very excited to be going back. I’m looking forward to sitting on my balcony and having breakfast with the fountain gushing away next to me. I’ve ordered a load of books on my kindle, so my beach time will be wonderful. I’ve bought a swimming watch with GPS that will tell me where I’ve swum and how efficient (or not) my swimming is. If I drown, my last moments will have been tracked. I’ll be meeting up with my friends there, reconnecting with people, remembering what it was like not to work...

But I have a long list of things I need to do before I leave. Each time I tick one off, I remember something else that I need to add to it, so the list doesn’t seem to get any shorter. I’m getting there, but now I have only problematic items left, which is why I’m procrastinating and writing this blog instead.

I need to sort out my UK tax return. Finally, I can do it online as an expat, but it’s been years and now I’ve lost my login and password. But they won’t send the login and password to me, because they have my address as Egypt and not Switzerland. I have to notify them of my change of residency first. Ugh. I’m only here for a year, well, only four more months now, so it doesn’t seem worth it. But I have no choice. Stale mate.

It’s similar with my trading account which I guess I will need to update for tax purposes. I’d emailed them ages ago to say I was now living in Switzerland but I’d be back in Egypt, so how could I register myself as in Egypt when I got back. They asked me to phone them. That always puts me off. So, months later and I haven’t done anything about it. They tried to phone me, but I never had my phone switched on (of course).

I actually think I know what they will do when I return to Egypt; they will register me as in a country where I can’t be recognised as a tax resident and so they will take the measures they have to do to ensure that I’m paying whatever it is I should pay. However, I’ll have a Swiss tax return to do for this year and next, so I need to register myself as here, but it won’t be easy to prove my residency because I’m a subtenant and therefore none of the bills are in my name. Everything is just so complicated.

It’s easier just to bury my head in the sand. It’s been the year of the ostrich. 

But I suppose that eventually I'll have to face the consequences of  avoiding all this and my chickens will come home to roost. 

Maybe this means that my next book should be 25 New Year's Resolutions - For Birds!

Europe - Christmas

Freiburg - Christmas Decorations

One good thing about being in Switzerland when the weather's cold is that at least I get to experience all the Christmas festivities. Although Egypt tries to do what it can for the tourists, it's not the same as having to push your way through people to look at the wares, seeing people laden with shopping, and smelling the gluehwein from the stalls as you walk past.

It's also something that's probably a bit different from country to country within Europe (setting aside the fact that some people celebrate on 24th Dec, others on 25th Dec, others on 6th Jan, and for some 6th Dec is also important).

The idea of a Christmas market with little huts selling artistic wares originates, I think, from Germany, but is now growing in popularity in Switzerland and even in the UK. Since I was last in Zurich, the Christmas market by the opera house has grown dramatically in size. There's a huge choice of places to grab a snack (my chocolate and pear strudel was really more than a snack!) and a great choice of wares from traditional Christmas items (candles, decorations, wooden nutcracker men, wooden roundabouts) to any variety of other things (gifts from recycled materials, shawls, pottery, hats, knitware, novelty items).

There are several things that are peculiar to Zurich - a huge Christmas tree (and Christmas market) in the main station decorated with Swarowski crystals (only in Switzerland!) and a singing Christmas tree. This latter is a Christmas trees with platforms hidden in it for choirs - usually children, but not only children - to stand on and sing Christmas songs from around 6pm to 8pm, I think. All around you have wooden stalls selling gluehwein, raclette, or other stodgy and unhealthy foods. It's always crowded but that's part of the atmosphere. There are little circular tables where you can huddle round with your food and your gluehwein or you can just stand and watch them singing while trying to keep warm.

I nipped back to the UK for a weekend to visit my brother and I packed this full of Christmas things that are unique to, or at least typical for, the UK. Mince pies, turkey and cranberry pie and the non-Christmas, but essential fish and chips. I can remember returning to the UK one Christmas and the culture shock on hearing people joking in the train about Christmas parties, hangovers, being sick, and planning the next celebratory evening out. You don't hear that in Switzerland! But it was good natured and sociable and the sense of anticipation was tangible. I don't like Christmas cake or Christmas pudding, so those weren't on my agenda, but it was good to see them in the shops and to remind myself of my roots.

And then just this weekend I had a trip to Freiburg in Germany to meet up with Holger and Emil and also just to spend some time enjoying the town and reacquainting myself with it. As is the theme for this year, luck was on my side, because I left Zurich in fog and arrived in Freiburg to see 17 degrees and bright sunshine. I love Freiburg. It's a charming town and I'd forgotten how large it is (for a relatively small place) and how easy it was to get a little lost once you started diverting yourself down the little side streets. The Christmas market was good, but extraordinarily busy and I didn't have the patience for pushing my way through to see all of the stalls. The emphasis there seemed to be more on natural produce (pure honey, raw wood, drinks). The town was very prettily decorated - not ostentatious, but somehow looked as if all the shops had taken care and pride in how they decorated.

So, I haven't done too badly. I've experienced Christmas in three countries this year to get my fill of the experience. I've still to endure the bitter cold that you would normally expect at this time, so I guess my luck will run out in 2016. Still, I've enjoyed it while it's lasted!

Zurich - Reflection on Work

Picnic eggs for making my lunch - special edition from Swiss National Day!

When I used to speak to my parents every week on the phone, my Dad would ask me why I never talked about work. I replied that it was never anything new – it was what was expected of me and so there wasn’t really anything to report. Also, I didn’t say this, I didn’t really think they’d have much of a clue about what I was talking about anyway. That’s no offence to them – I wouldn’t really expect anyone to be that interested.

Anyway, I guess it’s the same with this blog and I wondered if maybe I should say something about my working life.

I’m more than halfway through my contract now. Generally, I’ve been pretty happy. The work environment has been good, I’ve made new friends and the work itself has been fairly straightforward. It’s taken a while, as always, to build up trust and relationships with the people I’ve been working with.

I’m not quite sure how I feel about working. Not long ago, I was thinking that 6 months had really been enough, at least for full-time work. Other days I feel that it’s fine as it is. Some days, I long to return to having no work to do and just going back to doing my own writing, having more time to learn Arabic, going swimming every afternoon.

On all counts, I would much prefer to choose when to wake up each day rather than have it dictated by work. It’s not about getting up earlier or later; it’s about having the choice. However, I’m lucky that the work hours are pretty flexible; I could probably do as I wished if I like, but I’m a bit old-school and prefer just to do the set time rather than come in later and stay later. So maybe it all comes back to me not really wanting to work full-time any more.

One interesting aspect of my current position is that I have a lot of dealings with my Japanese colleagues, since my role is basically to hand over what I'm doing so that they can take charge when I leave. It's been a bit of a struggle since we're operating under two different systems and it's hard to get decisions sometimes. The Japanese prefer to discuss behind the scenes and have an iterative decision making process going through each stakeholder one by one.

I attended some Japanese cultural training and, interestingly, their language requires you to know the correct hierarchical order before you can address someone properly (and I thought the Du/Sie and Vous/Tu distinctions in German and French were difficult enough!). So, the Japanese like (need) to know what your position is in the organisation before they can even speak to you and this is thought to be a good thing as you know where you stand. They also like to copy everyone in on emails to ensure equality of information, whereas in our culture the trend is to try to avoid copying in too many people on correspondence. I haven't yet had a trip to Japan with this position, but I'm hoping maybe next year (I apparently have an allowance for only one travel during my employment, so I'm hoping it's for Japan).

I do feel quite sad about handing "my" products over (one is transferring to Japan and one to the USA) as at this stage I feel I've managed to put everything into order, I've grown fond of the people I'm working with and would like to see the plans I've worked on come to fruition. From that point of view, I will be sad to leave it behind!

Paris - Visiting Sheila

Paris - In the Tuileries

There were a few things I’d promised to myself to do while I was in Zurich and one of them was to visit Sheila in Paris. For some reason, I was surfing the internet one weekend and suddenly realized that there was an offer for train tickets to Paris – only 100 CHF return! I hasten to add that this was some time before the recent attacks on Paris, as was my visit.

The train journey to Paris from Zurich is really good – it takes about 4 hours, I think, and is direct. The seats are more spacious on the TGV than on a normal train and you have neither the hassle of having to arrive 90 minutes in advance nor all the baggage checks that you have at the airport.

I’d booked a room in a cheap hotel with use of a shared bathroom. The hotel was located not so far from Sheila’s flat and close to a KFC. You can see from the latter where my priorities lay! My room turned out to be on the top floor and there was no lift; the stairs were windy and narrow. The room itself was OK, though. I had my own toilet and basin but I never managed to find the shared bathroom and internet access was only sporadic. For just two nights, though, it wasn’t a big problem. The café just round the corner did delicious breakfast, which was also a compensation.

There were a few things I wanted to do – I wanted to see the twinkling lights at night on the Eiffel Tower (which I did) and I’d noticed that Musee d’Orsay was the number one visitor attraction in Paris and yet I’d never been. I found that quite puzzling, so I bought a ticket online to save me from having to queue, and decided to fill that gap in my experience of Paris.

I originally thought I’d go to the museum on Sunday, but it turned out that I was visiting on the French equivalent of an open doors day (it has some grand name in French as only the French can manage to do), so Sheila and I ended up trying to plan which places we should try and visit. It was a bit of a trauma trying to work your way round the web sites that explained what was on – there wasn’t much explanation and on top of that, navigation, particularly if you weren’t Parisian, was rather opaque.

Nevertheless, we got a plan together and It all started off not too bad. We got to some kind of pharmacy museum and were the first there, so we went off for a coffee beforehand in a nearby café, and then returned just before it opened. The tour was all in French, so it reminded me of Geraldine visiting me and everything being in Swiss German on the long night of the museums. My French is definitely rusty to say the least! Still, I quite enjoyed trying to follow what they were saying. It filled me with renewed enthusiasm for brushing up on my French again at some point (but I think this at regular intervals and never do anything about it).

We went back to the café and from there it started to go horribly wrong. We ordered the lunch menu and got as far as our starters (which were quite impressive, if rather mayonnaise-laden, prawn cocktails). After that, we just didn’t get served. We waited and waited. We complained at least twice. Still nothing arrived. In the end we put the money on the table to pay for our starters and just left. They didn’t even run after us.

Everything that we tried to visit after that had such long queues that it was pointless to try to get in. I won’t bore you with the details (I have in any case blotted them from my memory). We did end up at a place describing how they purified and distributed water in Paris, but apparently you can go there any time and it’s always free, so actually there wasn’t so much point in going (although it was still interesting enough and they had a film for me to practice listening to French again and to sit down after all that walking).

The next day, I went to the Musee d’Orsay, armed with my online ticket. I took my time and wandered around outside, and then tried to find the entrance. To my dismay it was closed and opening with a new exhibition the next day. But for me that was too late!

I decided to go for a coffee (that’s my solution to all my problems), but first of all I needed to get money out. It took me quite a long time to find a cash machine. I saw a photographic exhibition advertised as I walked about, thought I’d pop in and see that, only to find that it didn’t start until the next day either. My luck just wasn’t in.

I finally got money out (it was quite pleasant wandering about, to be honest, and the weather was good), had my coffee. I then realized that the Tuileries were just opposite the Musee d’Orsay and I’m not actually convinced that I’d ever visited them before, so I ended up enjoying walking round there. I saw the monolith that Egypt had given to Paris, mentioned during our tour of Luxor temple when Sheila came to Egypt. Seeing the monolith like this in the centre of Paris gave me the impression that my recent past and my present were in that moment being united and it somehow suddenly felt that everything was just as it should be.

After treating myself to a KFC, I returned to the hotel to collect my stuff only to find Sheila there waiting for me. Her appointment had been cancelled and she’d actually tried to find me at Musee d’Orsay (only also to find it was closed, of course). We might even have stopped off for a coffee at the same place but we never actually crossed paths.

Anyway, it was great to see her and to have a final chance to chat again before I left (that was, after all, the main reason for my being in Paris, so all the problems weren’t really important). We went to the station and treated ourselves to a coffee in Le Train Bleu – it was a really beautiful and stunning end to the stay.

Zurich - Arabic, Third Semester

View from the Class Window

Well, after putting in some work to catch up on the Modern Standard Arabic (MSA) vocabulary as opposed to “dialect” as our teacher insists on calling Egyptian Arabic, I finished the second semester and decided I may as well carry on. By the end of the semester, there were only four of us left from the eight who were there on my first lesson (so, only three of the original attendees). However, we’ve been joined by three others mid-way (one of whom has also dropped out), which I found quite surprising as I thought there wouldn't be many people who already had a smattering of Arabic.

Progress is frustratingly slow – we’re in the third semester and only now are we starting on verbs. On the plus side, I think my reading has improved quite a bit. I’m definitely faster and a lot of the time now I can both read and understand at the same time. They are only simple texts, of course.

It's interesting learning a different way of thinking about things. In German-speaking countries, it’s customary to call a woman “Frau” (“Mrs”) after she reaches a certain age. In Arabic countries, if a woman is single, you should always use “Miss”, because to call her “Mrs” is to take away from her the possibility of finding a husband. Unlike in European or Western countries, it’s a compliment in Arabic-speaking countries to be called “grandmother”; you’d rather call someone “grandmother” than underestimate her seniority. The language, too, continues to surprise. It has three different words for "not" - one for use in the present, one in the past, and one in the future. I've never seen that before!

Anyway, we’re now a class of six and we’re all the keener ones, so I’m hoping that we might be able to learn a bit faster. The class is only ever as fast as the slowest person and I have a horrible feeling that sometimes that’s been me. I was a bit mystified as to how everyone was so good until I realized that they were all putting in quite a bit of work in between lessons (we don’t get homework). I hurriedly spent our half-term vacation trying to catch up. However, the other week was one of those lessons where I noticed that my lack of time to do some rote learning was becoming evident!

It’s also complicated by me working from German to Arabic and not from my mother tongue to Arabic. When we were learning numbers (which I already knew, although they were pronounced differently in MSA), the teacher reeled off his telephone number in Arabic and asked us to put it into our own phones. Arabic numbers are like in German (“three and twenty” instead of “twenty three”), so I was confused in my head as to whether it was easier to try to translate from Arabic into German, But when I did that, I realised I couldn't enter the number on the phone by writing down 3 and then backtracking to enter the 2 (for 23). So, actually, it was quicker to do it just straight into English. But I didn’t have enough time to think all that through and I'd lost the plot in the mean time! Apparently, numbers are pretty much hard-wired into your brain as to how you first learned them, which is why they are often not so fluent as the rest of a foreign language that you learn.

I'm also getting confused in class with the verbs. I’m not sure if it’s partly because it’s all in German again, since by the time I’ve tried to follow what he’s saying in German and what he wants in Arabic and then how I should say it in Arabic, it all gets a bit much. It’s all fine in my head when I’m doing it at home but somehow in class I panic and it all escapes me. 

Maybe it would be easier if he could just ask us to translate a given sentence, but it’s often explained in a contorted manner (eg, “you are talking to me, and I’m in a group, and let’s pretend the group has ten boys and ten girls, so what do you say to me if you’re asking me whether we’re going to the cinema?”. He’s wanting the sentence “are you (men and women, plural) going to the cinema?” but by the end of the sentence I’m thinking he wants me to say “are we going to the cinema?” because I’ve lost the plot). Having said that, somehow, it still takes me a while to work out which part of the verb he wants even when he does just directly ask me to say “are you (men and women) going to the cinema?” I'm actually not that good at retaining things in my head (which is why I like the written word). So if the sentence is at all complicated, I also stumble  (eg, “he knows her and she knows him”). I’m not sure if I would find it easier if he were speaking English, since the sentence is easy enough for me to understand, so maybe it's just me!

Anyway, those are the challenges, but I do feel I am improving! I'm slowly learning new vocabulary, the classes each week push me to keep up and do some preparatory work, my reading is definitely getting better, and I'm fired up that we're now doing verbs.

Switzerland - Autumn

Bisse de Claveau from Sion to St Leonard

I’m not really aware of time passing when I live in Egypt, since each day is so similar to the other. Having said that, in February-March I’m wishing the sea would heat up; in August-September, by contrast, I’m looking forward to getting back to cooler evenings so I don’t wake up every night feeling too hot. But, regardless, each day is blue sky and sunshine (with the rare exception) and it’s a continual holiday. Time doesn’t really matter.

However, in Zurich, or maybe it’s whenever I’m working, I’m much more aware of time and the fact that it’s passing. I always need to have a watch, I always need to know what time it is, I need to know how much time things are taking. 

A few weeks ago, we turned the clocks back. Ignoring the fact that in Egypt changing the clocks is a bit hit and miss (they seem to change their mind every year and then sometimes even within the year), even when they do change the clocks, it doesn’t make much difference to me. I might get less time on the beach, and I have to recalculate when the UK TV programs are on, but that’s about it.

Here, though, it altered my whole perception. Suddenly, I'm walking home from work in the dark and it makes me feel like I must have been in the office for ages. In that darkness, winter lurks in the back of your mind; you remember that it’s the time of year for heating, heavy clothes, and gluehwein. And along with this, of course, is the background realization that summer has now gone, that time is marching on.

It also changes my routine. My regular teleconferences on Tuesdays suddenly shifted on my calendar from noon to 11am because the clocks hadn’t changed in Australia. I’m reluctant to go to the gym if it’s already dark.

Another thing that makes me realise that time is pressing on is the change in the natural environment. Apparently, I’ve continued to luck out this year in Zurich. Not only did we have an unusually good summer, but the autumn colours are spectacular just now. 

I had wondered if I was particularly sensitive to the colours all around me because I haven’t seen autumn for a few years, but people tell me it is extra stunning this year. It’s a joy to look out my window and to see the trees; and along with that, there’s a sense of astonishment as to how it could already be so late in the year. The trees are another kind of clock.

To maximize my enjoyment of autumn, I went for a trek along the vineyards by Sion last weekend. The railway was doing a special 2-for-1 offer on their day tickets, so we were able to go to the Valais on a bargain ticket. I will miss being able to travel about so easily when I return to Egypt.

Anyway, it was November 1st and the weather was so mild that I was able to walk in a t-shirt and we were able to sit outside for lunch! It's hard to believe. 

The sky was blue, the sun was low and imparting an orange glow over the landscape. Mountains were all around us and we walked along the vineyards, which were staggered up the mountainside. The slopes were stepped with stone and slate walls bordering the small patches of ground in between for the vines (the stair treads). Looking down, the countryside was a patchwork of orange and red; on the flatter ground, a green golf course with fountains looked like something out of Camberwick Green (UK children’s cartoon-like programme from the ‘60’s).

Shops are closed on Sunday in Switzerland, so it’s a popular day for hiking. Consequently, we met a fair number of people of all ages and dispositions (babies in prams, serious joggers, pensioners, groups of youths) as we walked along. We were now in the French-speaking section of Switzerland so it was “bonjour” as we passed instead of the Swiss-German “gruezi”. The pace of life felt much more relaxed.

The route was signposted with informational boards, but I wasn’t observant enough actually to see a lizard, absinth, or a pomegranate. At various intervals, the vintners had cosy places where you could sample their wines and / or eat. However, the hiking path was quite narrow and at times the drop quite sheer. Walking along it sober was fine, but I’m not sure I’d like to risk it if I were inebriated .

Looking at all the work it must take to harvest the vines on those steep slopes made me appreciate why wine is so expensive in Switzerland. Ironically, though, when we stopped for a drink before getting the train back, the wine cost only just over 3 CHF. In Zurich, a glass of wine will cost around twice that amount (even more if you go for an expensive wine). It’s strange how very different the Swiss cantons can be (language, economics, attitude); it’s part of the marvel of living in Switzerland.

Additionally, visiting a different canton, particularly one where they speak a different language, makes you feel as if you’ve been away for longer than you actually have. Time is a funny thing.

Basel - White Dinner

Basel - White Dinner, Table by the Rhine

One event I haven’t reported back on yet this year is the White Dinner that was held in Basel. I hadn’t realized at the time I went, but apparently this is organized on the same night in many cities. Basically, a large outdoor venue is set aside – with any luck, somewhere fairly dramatic or picturesque – tables are set up, and literally thousands of people turn up to have their dinner. Everyone has to wear only white from top to toe. You can purchase a white picnic basket with white cutlery and white plates (although red wine is provided!). The tables are covered with white tablecloths, you buy a white fold-up chair to use (and take home).

You pay to attend, but entertainment of dancers, people on stilts, magicians, etc is provided.

It was supposed to happen in Zurich the year I left, but it was cancelled due to the mystery location being a disappointment and leading to lack of interest, if I recall correctly. This year, it happened for the first time in Basel (maybe even the first time in Switzerland) and the whole of the old town and the bridges across the Rhine in Basel were set up as one large, open-air restaurant. Traffic could no longer enter the centre; trams stopped running.

Getting there on the tram before it started, you could easily tell who was going to come along; I’d never seen so many people around all dressed in white. People chatted to each other or those not going along would look on in interest. A friendly atmosphere dominated in the streets and in the trams as everyone prepared to share an experience. I believe 4000 people attended in Basel.

I was part of a table of 8 people and we had a table on the central bridge, adjoined to another group of 8 people. As with everything this year in Zurich, I was incredibly lucky and the weather held. It was September, so by no means a given that the night would be warm and clear. We took along some food and wine in addition to that provided in the picnic baskets.

For me, it was good to meet some new people and it was the first time I’d been in the centre of Basel for a while. There’s usually a competition between Zurich and Basel, with those from each city thinking that their location is the superior one. Anyway, this was the first time I’d really socialized with a group of Basel converts and for the first time I could really see the attraction of Basel – I could agree that it appeared to be a friendlier, more down-to-earth place than Zurich, and it’s lovely to see the river flowing through the centre.

I was a bit annoyed with myself for drinking too much and thus losing much of the next day (which was also the last proper outdoor swimming day of the year!), but it was all good!

Kas, Turkey - Swimming Holiday

Me Lagging Behind! Photo (c) Strel-Swimmming

Well, I arrived back safe and sound and, believe it or not, I even felt rested!

I don’t know if we’re having an exceptionally beautiful autumn this year or if it’s just because I haven’t seen an autumn for two years, but I’m often struck these days by the oranges and reds of the trees around me. It’s wonderful. When I took off from Zurich airport, it was great to see all the hillsides with splashes of different colours down below.

I changed at Istanbul to fly on to Dalaman and then, from Dalaman, I’d arranged to share a 2-hour transfer with a woman who was also on the same holiday as I was. I didn’t get into Dalaman until 21:20, so it always was going to be a late night. I was a bit nervous about sharing a two-hour transfer with a stranger, having to chat when I was tired, and then having to swim after a short night’s sleep but it was too late to do anything about that.

Anyway, it all went – err – swimmingly. That’s despite the fact that I arrived at Dalaman in the warm air, enchanted to see bougainvillea flowers around me, but then to find that my bag hadn’t arrived with me. However, it transpired that what they meant was that my bag was in the international terminal and I’d arrived in the domestic one. A short bus ride reunited me with my belongings and, for once, I’d taken my mobile phone with me and had it switched on, so I was able to text my transfer companion to let her know what was happening.

She turned out to be the same age as me and she’d been on two of these holidays before, so she was able to answer some of my questions as we drove along through the dark Turkish roads. She was great company, so it was all a bit of a relief. We didn’t arrive until 1am, and we had to be up at 8am for our induction, so that stressed me out a bit and I didn’t sleep too well. There was a list of participants handed to us, so it was good to have that to remind myself during the week.

Anyway, I got up to bright blue sky and sunshine and a view over the sea. I immediately felt better about things.

We had a short swim before breakfast so that they could group us into slow, medium, and fast swimmers. It was already clear at that point that I was by far the slowest swimmer; some people managed to see some turtles even on that first swim, but I was too busy trying to catch up or turning round early so that I wouldn’t be the last back.

There were nine of us altogether so it was a nice-sized group; there was one Australian couple, one Canadian couple, a Dutch woman, and the rest of us were Brits. Most of them were around my age, with just two who were probably quite a bit younger.

The routine was to have breakfast at 8am, which wasn’t too bad a time at all (much to my relief!), then on the boat by 9.15am, sail for a while, then we’d go on our mid-morning swim of over 2 km. After that, we had a rest on the boat or would play in the sea while they cooked our lunch. Lunch was served on a long table on the boat where we sat and passed round the dishes and chatted while we ate. We would then sunbathe, read, or talk on the boat for 90-minutes, and then we’d be taken on a shorter swim of just under 2km. We swam 23km in 5 days. I feel quite proud of myself.

The weather was fantastic – sun, blue skies, air temperature in the high 20s, and sea temperature around 25 degrees. The water was a swimming-pool blue and crystal clear. It couldn’t be better.

I did end up swimming quite a bit faster than I would do given the choice, since I was always far behind the others. I was the only one swimming breast stroke. They asked me to wear a bright orange buoyancy tag so that they could spot where I was and be sure I wouldn’t drown. I felt a bit of a plonker, but I could understand the rationale. Although I swam faster than usual and felt I was racing – that was me pressurizing myself, I hasten to add – I was quite pleased that actually the distances were fine and I wasn’t even out of breath by the end of it. I could feel my arms starting to ache a bit towards the end of each swim, but that’s a good thing (I think).

There was the main boat and 2 dinghies following us to see if we needed water or help. I felt fortunate to have gone with Strel Swimming as I heard that another, similar company tends to have competitive people on their trips all trying to swim faster than each other and you’re in the water by 7.30am. For me, that’s not a holiday! This was very relaxed and no-one minded me being slow.

Everyone in the group was friendly and encouraging. The Australian guy said his mother was still taking part in 3km swimming competitions at the age of 88 years old.

It turned out that the Canadian guy held the Guinness World Record for chin-ups; I can't remember how many he did now, but it took him 12 hours! Actually, the founder of the company has Guinness World Records for open-water swimming, including swimming the Yangtze where dead bodies were floating down the water in the darkness of the night. I can't say I have any ambition to do that.

I guess they have the privilege of saying that they had the author of 25 New Year’s Resolutions—For Fish! on their trip, but somehow I don’t think that’s quite so impressive.

Anyway, it was great. We had time to ourselves during the day if we wanted it, we swam in beautiful water in stunning scenery, and in the evenings we’d meet up and go out for a meal together. Kas was a lovely town. I wasn’t exhausted by the end; I’d felt I’d had a rest and with all that exercise I felt I’d managed to totally switch off.

It did make me miss Egypt a bit – that kind of lifestyle really is my idea of perfection.

Zurich - Booking a Holiday

Badi Enge - "Are you able to swim back, too?"

I mentioned a while back that I’ve booked myself on a swimming holiday. I stumbled across it in the summer months when I was searching for some long-distance swims that I could take part in. There were two in Switzerland (2.65 km and 3 km; the 2.65 km one I’d done before, so was really looking for something a bit longer) and, actually, I ended up missing them both. They were both on the same weekend and it happened to be one of the very few weekends where it was raining, so I opted out. Typical!

Anyway, because it was “swimming season”, I was feeling all enthusiastic and full of desire for new challenges. I like swimming in the lake, but there’s only so far you can swim, so you have to repeat stretches if you want to swim a certain distance. Consequently, I was trying to find these “long distance” swims to take part in. During these swims, the waterways are closed off to other boats, and the way is indicated and lined with rescue boats for a safe swim.

I finally found a really good site and it asked you to state your competence for it to select you swims of an appropriate distance. I naively thought that if I could swim around 3 km, I could be fairly termed as an “intermediate” swimmer. To my horror, the intermediate swims started at 10 km in length. Even the beginner ones went up to 10 km, so it was a reality check. Maybe it was meant more for professional open-water swimmers?

The other problem I have is that the longer swims usually require you to swim crawl, whereas I swim pretty much only breast-stroke. I can see the logic, because they can’t close the waters all day while people just go along casually at their own speed, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating when I’d like to have the opportunity to push myself a bit.

Anyway, on the left-hand side of the website there was an advertisement for a swimming holiday. When I clicked on it, I found that it was doing exactly what I wanted. You go out on a boat, swim 2-3 km in the morning and the same again in the afternoon. You have lunch on the boat. You’re accompanied by a few dinghies so that all swimming speeds are catered for, and you swim from bay to bay or island to island. I will definitely be in the slowest group, since even my breast stroke isn’t that fast. If you want a rest from swimming, you can just sunbathe or read on the boat instead. Perfect!

I’ve booked myself on a week’s holiday to Turkey (taking in one Greek island as well) and they are claiming the water will be 24 degrees. I hope this is true as I’m not very good with water that’s much colder! I’m a luxury swimmer at heart. On the first day they also film you from below and above water and give you tips as to how to improve your swimming. It should be interesting.

Of course, now that I’ve committed to it, I’m feeling a bit nervous. What if I can’t do those distances, will we have to get up really early in the morning, what if I’m so much slower than everyone else, what if the water’s too cold, will they try to force me to swim faster, what if I need the toilet, will I be too exhausted when I get back to do any work?

By the time you’re reading this, I will have returned, so I’ll let you know how I got on next week!

Zurich - Long Night of the Museums

Zurich Tomato Festival

Zurich is full of festivals; it’s probably one of the things I miss most when I'm in Hurghada. In Zurich, there’s always something new happening, something going on. In Hurghada, it can be a struggle to think of something else to do. It’s partly a function of Zurich being a larger city and partly a function, I guess, of it being located in a richer country. There are, of course, also advantages that Hurghada / Sahl Hasheesh has over Zurich, otherwise I wouldn’t be living there.

Anyway, when Geraldine came over to visit, as well as it being the month of “Zurich Eats!”, it was also the weekend of the “Long Night of the Museums”. This is the one night a year when all the museums stay open until around midnight and you can buy a single ticket for entry to them all.

We’d done this in a previous year, but we messed up a bit when it came to the clock museum because we got lost. Looking back, I can’t understand how this happened, because the museum is in the main shopping street and we’d ended up in some rather dodgy back streets with no form of public transport. And, when we did finally find it, the tickets were sold out (it has limited entry). But I could swear that when we’d found it, it wasn’t on the main street, but I could also swear that the museum hasn’t moved. It doesn’t really add up, but that’s memory for you.

So, this meant that we both had a certain determination to get in this year (and not to get lost!). I was a bit more on the ball (at least I’d learned from past experience!) and discovered that you can reserve places in advance from the museum itself. This was helpful because not only were we guaranteed entry, we also knew exactly where it was before we had to get there.

Although special buses are laid on for the event to take you from museum to museum, in practice it’s not so easy to see that much because it requires a lot of coordination. There’s not one circular line; there are five or six separate bus routes, so you need to know which buses go from where and what times and to which places. Inevitably, I haven’t worked all this out in advance to military precision.

We didn’t do so badly, though. The cactus collection (yes, not really a museum, but the zoo and botanical gardens were also included, for example, so the term “museum” is quite broad) was just up from the Street Food Festival that we went to, so that was our first stop.

For the Long Night, they’d laid on a musical performance as well to reflect how music, like plants, can also adapt. They hadn’t really made any concession for foreign visitors though – not only were all the introductions and explanations only in German, they were actually only in Swiss German. I could get a rough gist of what they were saying, but I was lost for quite a lot of it. Geraldine, who doesn’t even speak German, was probably completely flummoxed.

We also visited the Botanical Gardens – not that you can see a lot at night, but they’d got food stalls there, a special display where you sniff things hidden in barrels and guess what they are (I think I identified only one out of six!), and a display of saffron, which was their theme. They even offered a saffron cocktail for you to sample, but I’m not sure I’d drink it again.

After that, we finally made it – without problem – to the clock museum. It’s inside a very posh shop – I can’t quite remember but it wouldn’t surprise me if the salesmen were wearing white gloves – and, again, the tour did not consider the possible presence of foreign visitors, so the spiel was all rattled off in Swiss German. However, with it being an upper-end shop, the snacks provided were also rather delicious. It was just sandwiches, if I recall correctly, but I also remember that they tasted very good. We even got a glass of Prosecco with the snacks and then a Lindor chocolate ball as a leaving present.

Oh, and the museum was good too (I almost forgot in my excitement over the food and drink)! It took you through the history of clocks from using water and sun to tell the time, and even incense sticks, to modern-day waterproof technology and, of course, fine, high-end timepieces as well.

And that was about all we had time for. I think I’ve been three times now and have never repeated a museum yet!

Zurich - New Year's Resolutions--For Fish!

Now Out on Kindle! Thanks to Everyone who Voted.

It’s that time of year again where I indulge myself in talking about the release of my annual New Year’s Resolutions book.

I’d kind of committed to releasing 25 New Year’s Resolutions – For Fish! (NYR Fish!) in October this year, since I’d stated the date in my other books ( –For Dogs! and –For Cats!). At the time, I hadn’t realized that I would be back doing a full-time job in Zurich. It would have been much easier to get it out in time if I hadn’t needed to work!

I also didn’t know that I would be so busy in September (I haven’t had a single free weekend), so it’s been a bit stressful getting it done and even now I’ve only managed to get the kindle version out so far (although the paperback should follow this week, if I’ve done the set-up correctly).

NYR Fish! was enjoyable to write as it took me back to being in Sahl Hasheesh and my daily swims; those swims already feel like another world now. I’ve even started to forget the names of some of the fish, whereas when I was living in Egypt I was completely absorbed in it. Most evenings I would spend time reading my guide books and trying to identify which fish I might have seen that day.

As usual, selecting photographs was the most time-consuming part of the process. On this occasion, it was a bit of a mixture between my previous two techniques. I had the resolutions first and then found the photographs, but some of the resolutions had been inspired by photographs that I knew I already had.

Collecting fish is allegedly the second most popular hobby in the world, and to my great joy this was borne out by there being loads of good photographs available on Flickr.com. Unfortunately, there were two resolutions (“Do the longest poo” and “Contribute to the environment”) where I experienced particular difficulty in identifying a suitable picture. I’d found two really good options on the internet (one of which had inspired that first resolution), but neither of them had an attribution to the photographer. Consequently, I was stumped as to how to get the copyright / permission for using it in my book. I spent quite a lot of time sending out enquiries, but to no avail.

At one point, I considered risking it and adding a note in the copyright section of my book asking the photographers to come forward if they found their work printed in my book. Neither of them were professional photographers, so I didn’t think I was taking away income from them.

But I chickened out. I re-read all the copyright stuff that I’m so familiar with. I even toyed with the idea that maybe I could argue that the photographs were being used for commentary. But in the end I had to admit that I shouldn’t really use them without permission.

I also discovered a blog where someone had been prosecuted and fined for using photographs from the internet, even though she hadn’t used the photographs for commercial purposes and she’d removed the photographs immediately once she realized she was breaking the law.

And then I read claims that one company finds people who have not asked for permission to reproduce photographs, they then purchase up the copyright themselves, and subsequently prosecute those people for using them without permission. These rumours may well be completely false, and in my opinion it’s dodgy on legal grounds (at the time of implementation, the photographs were not under that company’s copyright), but it was enough to scare me. Having said that, I can’t see how anyone could have located the photographers of the photos I wanted to use because I, at least, found it impossible.

Anyway, I ended up playing safe and staying 100% legal. Life is too short for the potential stress that could occur later.

But it left me with a problem, because I couldn’t find any Creative Commons-licensed images to fit my needs. I ended up looking at photographs with rights reserved where I could find out who the creator was in order to ask for permission. I got there in the end, but it was a lot of work that you don’t really appreciate when you look at the end product.

I’ve also learned from past experience to keep a screen grab of the Creative Commons license for each photograph; I’ve had cases in the past where people have removed the Creative Commons license and demanded money as soon as I informed them that I’d used their picture in my book. I couldn’t argue that they were bound by the agreement, because I had no proof that they had initially licensed their work under Creative Commons for commercial use. In these cases, I’ve always removed the photograph and used another one – I’m not going to reward that kind of behaviour!

Anyway, the kindle version (US, UK) of NYR Fish! is now available; the paperback should be out by the end of this week, with any luck. To find out about price changes, free giveaways, etc, just visit and like the dedicated facebook page!

Zurich - Theaterspektakel

Theaterspektakel - Taking Cover at the Back!

As I was scratching my head, wondering what to write about next, I realised that I hadn’t yet said anything about Theaterspektakel. This is a theatre festival of sorts – it’s located by the lake and a stage is set up for paid performances. In addition to this, the area is laid out with various stalls selling food and drink.

You can wander round and watch various performances for free – usually magicians or other types of street performers.

I’ve been there many times with Lena but we have a bit of a history of managing to wait for each other at different entrances and thus spending quite a lot of time hanging about beforehand. It’s not helped by the fact that I’m not a mobile phone type of person and often forget to bring it with me / charge it in advance / have it switched on / bring a note of my SIM password. There’s such a lot to remember, I really don’t know how people cope.

Anyway, this time we settled for an unambiguous meeting point at Buerkliplatz, so that we could arrive in style by the boat that’s laid on by the event (you have to pay a nominal fee unless you are Lena and have a special card).

It’s one of the many summer events in Zurich that rely on good weather. I envied the swimmers a bit as we arrived, but the evening was a good temperature and we strolled about looking at the various acts and deciding where to eat. I usually have a Mistkraetzeli (a small chicken described in wonderful Swiss terminology as “shit scratcher” as Lena likes to point out), but this time I was in the mood for a lamb curry. It’s the usual process of paying a deposit on your glass which you get back when you return your drinking vessel.

It seemed to me that there were slightly more acts than usual this year – one guy doing balloon animals, another performer slicing a sheet of newspaper with a whip into ever tinier sections while a petrified volunteer held it steady, another magician cutting a girl into two.

We sat down for a drink, but the only place was beside two smokers. It’s so ironic that the Swiss, who are such keen skiers, swimmers, cyclists, and mountaineers, are also avid smokers. I guess they have to have at least one vice to show that they are, after all, human.

The wind started to pick up out of nowhere. People started to move themselves to places where there was cover. Lena and I sat there, believing it would just blow over. A few big drops splatted onto our table, but we clung to our belief that it would be only a shower. Eventually, as we got wetter and wetter, it became clear that it wasn’t going to be just a short flurry and so we, too, took cover, only there wasn’t much space left at this point.

We ended up in the actors’ entrance just behind one of the free acts on the main stage. The act was a slapstick acrobatic magic show type thing and really it was as interesting to see the childrens’ faces as anything else (I’m not entirely sure the performers realised that so many children were going to be present as some of the humour was a little adult). I don’t think I’d seen so many children in previous years, but Lena said it was earlier this year and so the children were still on holiday. We were probably a bit of a nuisance to the actors who kept on pushing past us to get to their lockers, but they were very polite all the same.

By the time we went home, though, the rain had stopped, so it wasn’t such a big deal!

Zurich - Zurich Eats!

Stall at the Street Food Festival

Swimming and food seem to be the sole two topics of my blogs! No prizes for guessing the topic of this particular entry.

I had Geraldine over to visit for a weekend in September, so I investigated what would be on while she was across. It turned out to be the month of Zurich Eats, so we pretty much joined in.

There was a Street Food Festival along the lake. For some reason, I’d kind of forgotten to factor in that it would be very busy if we went at 6pm, but I guess at least we saw it at its peak.

There were loads of stalls selling hot snacks from all over the world – I can’t quite remember what they all were now, but I think there was Nepalese, Tibetan, Korean; if not those, then it felt as if almost everywhere was represented including many countries that you don’t usually see (however, the UK was not represented!).

The choice was a bit baffling and we ended up sitting by the lake with a glass of wine while we tried (and failed) to make up our minds as to what we would eat. The boat just in front of us was the one I’d hired for my 50th birthday! In the end, we just started walking round again and stopped at the first one that took our fancy (it all looked good, but nothing was a “must have”).

There were loads of people, so it was a slow process walking along to see what there was and then also a bit complicated to locate where a queue began and ended and which people were just onlookers. But I’m not complaining! People were not pushy and for such a large attendance, it was pretty civilised. It was fascinating to see all the different types of food.

The prices were not expensive (by Zurich standards), which indicated to us that the idea was probably to buy things from one or two stalls rather than get a full meal from one. However, we ended up just buying something from one of the stalls and it ended up being more filling than it looked. I think it might have been Taiwanese dumplings. The rain was probably also a factor in us cutting down our food intake.

Another part of Zurich Eats was a tomato festival (yes, a tomato festival!). We went to that on the following day after stuffing ourselves at the Hiltl where we had had brunch.

Several people had told me that the Hiltl brunch was very good and indeed it was. For a fixed price of 57 CHF, we got a prosecco, two hot drinks, plus the full buffet including breads, cereals, fresh juices, fried and scrambled eggs, as well as the usual lunch / dinner buffet that they always have, which has an overwhelming choice. I can’t even begin – there are things like onion rings and pakoras, then there’s an Indian curries section, a Thai curries section, then just general salads, then other vegetarian dishes (Roesti, mushroom sauce, spaghetti, other pasta dishes), and then a whole section of desserts.

Anyway, after brunch, we walked up to the Tomato Festival by Buerkliplatz near the lake. Unfortunately, we were both too stuffed to be able to eat anything else, although tomatoes aren’t my favourite food, so I wasn’t really so tempted anyway.

We wandered into a prize giving ceremony, but we weren’t sure what it was for and only later discovered that it was for the photography competition. The photographs were all printed on the outside of the tent and ranged from professionally-taken arty photographs, to colourful displays of tomatoes, to photographs of tomatoes in funny shapes, and just generally comedic photos with tomatoes. I wasn’t sure what the judges were looking for based on this large range of topics or if there were different categories for people to enter. It was a fun display, though.

There were also many stalls set up from people selling different breeds (?) of tomatoes and it was, as far as I could tell, a celebration of rare tomatoes. Each stall had tiny bits of tomatoes set out for you to try, so you could wander round and taste each of them in turn. The colours ranged from almost white to almost black and some were multi-coloured. One was called a pineapple tomato and I was a bit curious about that but never got to taste it.

In addition to tomatoes, there were also other stalls of handcrafted items and home-baked or home-grown food, as well as various types of grappa. Grappa / schnapps seems much more common in Switzerland and Germany than in the UK.

Anyway, it made for an interesting afternoon. Next weekend, the food festival continues in my work building on Saturday, so I think it’s following me around and not me it. I will obviously starve once October comes.

Zurich - Eating Out

Desserts at the Kameha Sunday Brunch

I’ve been trying to decide if there are differences between eating out in Egypt and eating out in Zurich (apart from the obvious – prices and location!).

I’ve revisited some old, familiar places since I’ve been back (Seerose, LakeSide, Bauschaenzli, Tao’s) and tried out some new places (Kameha, Razzia).

I started off thinking that really you can eat out just as well in Egypt as you can in Zurich, but I’m now wondering if that’s true and, actually, whether it’s even fair to compare. The two countries are complete opposites – Switzerland is almost sickeningly wealthy and Egypt is so poor that even the electricity isn’t stable. Switzerland can afford better things and in addition the quality items are closer and cheaper to import. It has a larger, wealthier population to serve; in Egypt, particularly now, the “wealthy” residents and tourists (whether Egyptian/Arabic/Western) are relatively scarce, and there’s no incentive to invest in fancy restaurants. Interestingly, Egyptians and Arabs holidaying in Egypt now spend more money than the Europeans, so the recession in Europe has its consequences for Egypt as well.

Although I enjoy eating out, it’s not a “must do” on my agenda in life. However, when I was in Egypt, I used to go out maybe once a week with Nicole, trying out various establishments. The quality was higher than I was expecting, although, of course, the better the food, generally the higher the price. B’s at the marina, for instance, has high quality offerings and a great location, but you are paying near European prices (whatever that means; but lower than Swiss prices!). Thai Garden in Mamsha is also nicely designed with good food. Again, it’s not so cheap, but that’s speaking as someone who is thinking of Egyptian prices and having no income rather than as someone earning and thinking in Swiss francs!

My budget is limited in Egypt as well, so I rarely go to the very top-end establishments, whereas in Switzerland I’m earning and can afford to spend the money. This also skews the comparison. For instance, the Indian restaurant at the Oberoi in Sahl Hasheesh is supposed to be stunning, but I’ve also heard its cost is near prohibitive (for those living in Egypt), so I’ve yet to try it out.

But the selection and quality of good restaurants in Zurich is superb. I’ve already had some wonderful meals sitting by the lake (Seerose, LakeSide), some restaurants have interesting features (Razzia is an old cinema and is beautiful). You pay a price, of course, but there’s such a huge selection of places to go, many of which I have yet to visit, that it’s overwhelming. In Hurghada, we sometimes struggled to find somewhere we hadn’t tried that looked decent (by European standards). Often, the best places are in hotels, which makes eating out feel a bit clinical, too.

In Egypt, places are often not consistently good – so you can go one time and think you’ve found a hidden gem, you return, and you feel rather disappointed. In Switzerland, there’s more consistency. Usually, if a place is good, it will be good all other times that you go as well. You may feel you are paying a fortune, but in return you will often be sitting somewhere that’s amazingly well (or interestingly) designed. In the Kronenhalle, you can even go for a drink surrounded by original works from Giacometti, Picasso, and Chagall. Angkor has little channels with fish swimming round you as you eat. This summer, the Hiltl, the world’s oldest vegetarian restaurant, has decorated its exterior with fake grass. And, of course, you get a great selections of wines in many restaurants, which is lacking in Egypt.

A very German/Swiss tradition is the Sunday Brunch. It took me many years to warm to this idea – I couldn’t really see the point at first (why eat all that at this time of day? Breakfast isn’t so expensive and I like my morning cereal). However, I’m now a convert. It’s a wonderful way to spend a Sunday. Brunches generally run from around 11am until 2pm and most times it is an all-inclusive buffet with breakfast items, main course lunch items, and desserts. I went to the brunch at the Kameha the other week.

The location isn’t so great (although Lena tells me that it says otherwise on the Kameha website!), but for 69 CHF the brunch was excellent value and the food of good quality. There were all the traditional breakfast items, plus honey from a honeycomb, antipasti, a dim sum table, eggs cooked to order, a choice of mains cooked fresh to order and brought to your table (the day we went, it was veal or a vegetarian pasta dish), tea, coffee and water to your heart’s content (and a prosecco before you began). The desserts were home made as was the delicious ice cream. There was no mistaking the flavours in the desserts – the coffee mousse was stronger than my cappuccino!

If you want to experience the high life, the Dolder brunch is also good, but more expensive (and, scandalously, doesn’t include water). However, you can buy a champagne add-on option, and drink as much champagne as you like. That’s what I call getting your priorities right!

So, all in all, I’ve got to admit that it is nice to be back and to have this huge range of places to go to and enjoy. This is, however, largely helped by the fact that I’m earning a salary (for which I am also grateful!).

Zurich - Open Air Cinema (Salt Cinema)

Salt Cinema with Live Orchestra - photo (c) Hye-Youn Lee

Let me clarify something when I say that I love the open-air cinema. You have to bear in mind that it’s Switzerland and, although the weather here is, surprisingly, much better than it is in the UK, it’s still Switzerland and not Egypt. Consequently, there is always a risk of rain.

In previous years I have sat watching a film in the pouring rain thinking I will just sit it out, then the water trickles down the back of my neck (because I haven’t put my waterproof – that they supply – on properly) and gradually more and more people leave as everyone sits there getting wetter and wetter. This isn’t the scenario I’m talking about when I say it’s one of my very most favourite things! Although I guess the sense of anticipation of whether the weather will stay good does add something of a frisson to going to the event (I'm a risk taker at heart).

As I said in my FilmFluss blog, Salt Cinema is a grander occasion than FilmFluss. First of all, you usually need to book in advance to have a hope of getting a ticket (hence why you can end up sitting in the rain – for FilmFluss you can just turn up on the night if the forecast is good and usually be pretty sure of getting in). Unless you’ve managed to get a limited, special ticket, you have to turn up early, as soon as the doors open, and, after queuing, run to reserve yourself a good seat. The seats are on a purpose-built stepped wooden tribune overlooking the lake and they are on a first-come, first-served basis.

There’s a choice of places to eat where you get good food and you sit down at tables (even if the tables are usually packed!). Of course, there’s a bar as well, and you have to pay a deposit on your plates and glasses and return them to the collection stations. It’s all very well organised. They have signs for you to use to reserve your chairs once you’ve found a free one, and they provide the waterproof ponchos if it rains. There’s no undercover section, so the weather has to be good.

For me, the high point of the evening is when the screen goes up. If you’ve never been before, you don’t necessarily realise that the white thing hanging horizontally across the lake is the screen. I originally thought it was just a piece of the necessary equipment. The music starts, and then the solid white thing rises up – out of the water it seems – and becomes vertical on metal legs, and you realise that it’s transformed into a screen that’s framed by the backdrop of the lake. I find it magical. In the background you can see the boats chugging up and down the lake, the moon shining on the water, hear the water lapping...

This year, I think for the first time, the final film was accompanied by a live orchestra to play the film track. The film was Perfume – I’d read the book but not seen the film (indeed, it had completely passed me by that it had been made into a film; I read the book many years ago).

I had been wondering how they would organise this, since if it rained, it would presumably have to be called off (yet they’d sold all those tickets!). However, it turned out that they had constructed a special covered section for the orchestra, so the musicians were always going to be dry (and, more importantly, so were their instruments). The orchestra was seated just under the screen, so for this performance, I missed out on the magic of the screen rising up as it was obviously not technically feasible to do this once the orchestra was located where it was. Consequently, we arrived to the screen already in place.

As is typical, Perfume showed on one of the very few nights where rain was forecast; however, although a few drops of rain landed on our heads, it didn’t last long at all, and the evening turned out to be cool but not wet. Most of the audience wore their waterproof ponchos throughout just in case, but fortunately the waterproofs served only as an extra layer of warmth.

In addition to the orchestra, there was also a choir located to the left, also under cover (I almost wrote undercover! They weren’t undercover; indeed, they stood up each time they sang).

Since I hadn’t seen the film before, I didn’t have a comparison of with and without live orchestra, but although at times I forgot the orchestra because I was so engrossed in the film, at some points I was very aware of the music (actually, I may go and get the soundtrack, I thought the music was beautiful). They had cut the original soundtrack from the film, so the live orchestra provided the whole rendition.

Because the open-air cinemas always end late due to having to start fairly late as they need to wait for it to get dark, people usually rush off as soon as the credits come up. However, this time, because the orchestra was there and playing right until the end (indeed, it was probably their longest piece!), most people stayed. And, of course, there was hearty applause at the end, and very well-deserved too! I felt privileged to have been able to experience this and we were so lucky that the weather held, making it a brilliant experience.

Zurich - Street Parade

Tail End of Street Parade

Before anyone who has done a google search on Street Parade gets all excited at having found a link to this blog – don’t! This may sound as if it will be a blog on Street Parade, but actually it isn’t. You have been warned.

Actually, this is likely a blog that will get many people annoyed, but I’m afraid I have to say it. I hate Street Parade. Well, that’s not entirely true. It’s great to see people coming together, it’s good to have a fun, peaceful, non-aggressive gathering, it’s only once a year and it’s an organisational nightmare that’s executed extraordinarily well.

But, being the moaning Minnie that I am, for anyone who doesn’t like crowds of people so close to each other that you can absorb everyone else’s sweat, who doesn’t want to hear music blaring during daytime, and who still wants to get from A to B across Zurich, it’s a nightmare.

It seems always to happen on the hottest day of the year. I remember on a previous year, arriving at Stadelhofen station in Zurich on my way back from somewhere, having forgotten it was Street Parade. I’d got off the train early, thinking I’d pop off to the Badi and have a swim because the weather was beautiful and at the end of August you know this is likely your last chance to swim in the open air for the year. The place was crammed with people. I tried to cross the road and I think that alone took 20 minutes. I gave up and took the train back home but was very disgruntled (I’m maybe not the most adaptive of people!).

It was similar this year. A wonderfully hot weekend was forecast – it looks to be the last this year. The weather did as forecast and I made my way eagerly over to Badi Enge. It wasn’t until I was on the tram and I heard the announcement that the tram wouldn’t be going where I wanted it to go that I remembered that this was the weekend of Street Parade.

Anyway, after chopping and changing a bit with various modes of transport, I arrived at Badi Enge. There was a huge queue outside. They informed me that there was an event going on. If I wanted to go swimming, I could use any of the other city lakeside lidos, for example Badi Utoquai was open.

Utoquai! That’s the other side of the lake and the city was closed to transport. It would be impossible to get there without going out of the city and back in again and I didn’t want to waste all that time.

I looked at the city map and realised that Badi Mythenquai was probably the closest. I’d never been before, so wasn’t too sure how to get there. Nevertheless, I managed to find the right tram.

It wasn’t until I saw, through the tram window, all the people that had been on my tram walking towards the Badi, that I realised that I’d missed the correct stop. So, I got off at the next stop and then had to walk all the way back,

Disgruntled once again,  I wasn’t really in the mood for a swim any more by the time I got to the Badi,.

I explored a bit – I was impressed that Hiltl (well-known and popular vegetarian restaurant in Zurich) had a reasonably-sized outlet, but they didn’t do iced coffee and they didn’t do the shortbread that I so enjoy at Enge. However, I now realise that prices in Badi Enge are quite expensive.

I always feel a bit nervous swimming somewhere new (how does it work, are there deeper/shallower bits, how far are those distances?). The section of the lake it “owns” is quite large; I didn’t dare swim beyond its confines, partly because I didn’t know the area that well yet and also because no-one else seemed to be doing it. Steps led down into the lake (I prefer this to walking in gradually), people were diving off a three-tiered diving area, and some were lying on the floating wooden platforms in the middle of the lake, which are there for you to scramble on and then jump off again when you feel like it.

There was plenty of space in the changing rooms (Enge is always busy and a bit cramped) and on the grass outside (finding somewhere to sit/lie at Enge is always an issue, although I prefer having the railings at Enge to support my back while I read).

Anyway, since the area of water was quite large and new to me, I ended up swimming for 1 hour 20 minutes, which should be about 2km at my (slow) speed of swimming. This will be good practice for my swimming holiday (a future blog).

In the distance, I could still hear the tones of Street Parade thumping away as I swam. Three helicopters kept on passing overhead. The lake was quite choppy, maybe because of the number of boats out that day, so I couldn’t avoid getting my face splashed with water or taking an involuntary drink of lake water now and again.

I laid in the sun while I dried off and read my kindle, but then a band started up in Mythenquai. It was also part of the Street Parade. There was no escaping it if you are anywhere remotely near the city centre.

I decided to leave, but was happy I’d had my swim. Nevertheless, getting back took quite a while so whereas I’d been thinking I had plenty of time to get things done in the evening, by the time I got back, that window of opportunity was lost. I was back to feeling disgruntled.

Oh well. Such is life!

Zurich - Open Air Cinema (FilmFluss)

FilmFluss Waiting to Begin

I love Zurich in the summer – not only because I can swim outside (and that is a major factor), but also because it is the open-air cinema season and this has to be one of my favourite things in the world!

There are other events, but the two I always go to are FilmFluss, which is an open-air cinema showing by the River Limmat, and Salt Cinema (previously Orange Cinema), which is by the lake and is organised by said telephone company. Although they are each very different, I love them both.

FilmFluss usually has more “arty” films and has a cosier and more makeshift feel to it than the grander Salt Cinema. By day, the venue is a swimming pool. Well, sort of, at any rate. It’s an outdoor area where you can lie in the sun or go in the water. However, because it’s the river, the water flows quite fast, so you don’t really swim – you just get carried away by the water. Consequently, you can go only one way, you drift down to the end and then run back up to the start and do it all over again.

I’ve only been once and will never go again. There are these notices with pictures on, that I didn’t understand at the time, indicating that you should approach the end of your “swim” feet first. I’m not quite sure how that helps, but I guess it must. Anyway, I didn’t follow this advice because I just didn’t understand how it all worked and couldn’t fathom what the picture was trying to tell me. Consequently, at the end of my being carried downstream by the current, I was in my normal breast-stroke position. I arrived at the big netted fence at the end and to my horror the water pushed me flat against the fence and I became pinned to the barricade. The current was too strong for me to push back and I just couldn’t move. It was like being on one of those funfair rides where the centrifugal force pins you against the wall. My head was above water, so I wasn’t at any risk of drowning, but I still needed to get out! Two people had to hold out their hands to lift me up until I could get my feet on one of the rests. I felt like a right plonker.

Anyway, by night, for two or three weeks in the early summer, this place transforms into a cinema. It’s much nicer! One of its best features is that it has a covered section – it’s a wooden area with pillars all along where it overlooks the river and it almost has a churchy feel to it. It only fits three rows of people. They decorate it with strings of coloured lights and the seating is just those individual black, plastic seats with metal legs (some chained together to form a row). So it’s nothing fancy, but it’s cosy all the same.

Behind the covered area and up some steps they place rows of chairs outside going up the fairly steep embankment, so I imagine there’s not too much difficulty in seeing over the person in front of you (I’ve never actually sat there).

They construct a metal frame on the long wooden open-air walkway at the other side of the river that belongs to the pool and you watch them hanging what looks like a big sheet there in readiness for the film. You have to wait until it is dark before the film can begin, and the first adverts are always stills, which adds to arthouse feel of the event. There’s a bar in the outside area selling drinks, pizza, and burgers and there’s always a guy going round and selling ice creams (what’s the point of going to a film if you can’t have an ice cream?).

As in most Swiss cinemas, there’s a break in the middle. The film just stops abruptly and then off you toddle to have your cigarette (a surprising number of Swiss smoke), buy your ice cream, go to the toilet, etc. Each time, even now, this comes as a surprise to me and they always manage to time the break just when I am at my most absorbed in the film.

The sound quality is good and as background noise you have the trains going over the bridge and as background visuals you have bats flitting about in the night air. It all adds the atmosphere.

I really like the casual flavour of FilmFluss, I love the location, and there’s something quite exciting about watching a film outdoors.

UK - Ascot

A Day at the Races

Well, l was let out last weekend – it was my first time outside of Switzerland since I arrived in April. A group of us had booked some time ago to go to Ascot for the Dubai Duty Free Shergar Cup. It came at about the right time for me, as after four months it was nice to have a change of scene, even though I do love Switzerland in the summer and am really happy to stay here in the hot weather.

There are two things that generally happen when I travel from Switzerland to the UK – the first is to act as an exporter of some Swiss chocolate (gifts) and the second is to order items for delivery in the UK that I either can’t get in Switzerland or (more likely) are cheaper to buy in the UK. So, I took across some Lindt champagne truffles as a gift to our hostess and ordered myself two swimming costumes (one was only 2.50 GBP and the other was 20 GBP) and some swimming goggles (2.99 GBP). They were from a website I’d just discovered (www.decathalon.co.uk) and I got a bit overexcited. There’s nothing the British like better than a perceived bargain!

It’s always good to be back in the UK – it’s just the familiarity of it all, the little villages, the stores you’re used to, the various accents, quirky boutique shops, the country lanes, the fields, the banter... it’s all just what I grew up with and your home country always holds a special place in your heart, I think.

Candice had hired a car to get us from Heathrow, but she was a bit taken aback when we ended up with a huge Jeep instead of a normal car for the weekend. It wasn’t quite how we’d imagined turning up for our dressy weekend. Then it took us almost our entire journey before we’d worked out how to switch the headlights on (we got a few honks and stares), and Pam’s house was on a road that was not on the GPS, so at the end it looked as if we were driving in the middle of a field. But we got there safely!

Pam was the hostess with the mostess (thank you so much, Pam!). The day before Ascot we went to the Bombay Sapphire distillery. I wasn’t so keen on this idea since I’ve been round distilleries before and I’m not that fond of gin, but actually it was very interesting. They had a greenhouse-like place designed by a famous bus designer (whose name escapes me) where all the plants incorporated into the secret recipe (that reminded me of KFC!) were growing. You could select your favourite flavours and they made you a cocktail at the bar. The sun was shining, I had great company, a fabulous cocktail – it couldn’t really go wrong!

I’m not really a “see and be seen” kind of person and nor am I a girly girl, so I wasn’t massively excited at the prospect of dressing up, but actually, I have to admit that I really enjoyed the day at Ascot and to a large extent because of the dress code. There weren’t as many hats or fascinators as I was expecting, although I’d never seen so many different dresses in my life. Not one seemed to be duplicated. At first I was puzzled, because I feel I’ve searched every shop in existence for dresses this year and hadn’t seen any of them on people at Ascot, but then I remembered I was in Switzerland and Ascot wasn’t.

The racecourse itself is impressive – beautifully manicured lawns and we had a perfect summer’s day, so it felt very archetypal British, although why I should think that when pure blue skies are so rare in the UK, I’m not entirely sure! We’d booked a meal and drinks package, so were in the Premier section of Ascot, and could look over the racecourse. People were already laying out their rugs and picnics on the lawns by the side of the course and the boards showing the odds were at regular intervals just by the pathway, just like I’d seen on television.

The horses looked beautiful and when we went to the winners’ enclosure, you could see that the winning horse was allocated a huge bucket of water and the other horses who only came 2nd-5th (out of 10) got smaller buckets of water. To my surprise, the water wasn’t for drinking, it was for pouring over the horses to cool them down. I somehow doubt that the winning horse was aware that he or she had more water than the others!

Afterwards, there was a concert including performances from Lulu and Rick Astley as the singers I knew best (I’m showing my age!). In front of us, the people left an empty bottle of Bollinger on the grass. It was almost like being in Switzerland (referring here to the quality of champagne, not the messiness!). Rick Astley interrupted the concert due to a scuffle somewhere in the audience, he called security, and then continued. So, a bit of drama was also sprinkled in.

On our final day we went to the local country pub for a good old British Sunday roast and then it was back to Switzerland, where for once things didn’t run smoothly and the flight was delayed (I’ll blame that on the UK). But it was a great break and I’m always surprised at how much more of a rest it feels when you go away somewhere than when you just stay put.