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.

Zurich - Old Friends

Old Zurich, Old Friends

One major reason for returning to Zurich for a year was that it would give me a chance to catch up with old friends.

To be honest, I’ve actually been a bit bad about this and there are loads of people I still haven’t contacted to arrange to meet up for a drink (hello Gerard!). Having said that, I haven’t done too badly either.

However, what’s surprised me is how many people I’ve met up with who I hadn’t even had the faintest idea I would end up seeing again. It really does feel like this is a year destined for renewing old friendships.

Almost as soon as I arrived, I discovered that the company I used to work for 8 years’ ago was pitching for business at my new place of work. Not only that, but it was the very people I used to work with who were coming over!

To clear my conscience, I declared my potential “conflict of interest” at my new workplace and informed them that I wanted to meet my old colleagues afterwards. Since I was only new, it was particularly good to be meeting up with familiar people, catch up on the gossip, and meet some of the new faces in my old company (including the person who took over my old office!), who, come to think of it, after 8 years are probably now regarded as “old” employees. It all added to the sensation that somehow everything about coming back to Zurich has worked out extraordinarily well. Heaven knows why I still like Egypt, where everything insists on going horribly wrong!

Then for some reason I dreamt about an old friend who I hadn’t seen for maybe 20 years and so I decided to drop him an email. I hunted about on the internet, just to check that the email was still valid (it appeared to be current). Anyway, it turned out that he'd wanted to get in contact with me to get a friend of mine's email to archive some email correspondence they’d had (my own emails were obviously never adequately inspiring!) and also he was just about to be passing through Zurich en route to a few days’ holiday prior to a conference.

So, after 20 years, I met up with him and his wife in Zurich. It was wonderful to see them and great to renew the connection again. I had no idea that we’d meet up again and in Zurich of all places!

Around that same time, it felt like I got a flood of emails from old friends. One friend passed me a message from an old friend wanting a copy of an old article of mine; it had been so long since I’d last seen or heard from him that I’d forgotten that he also didn’t like cheese. I mean, we non-cheese eaters usually stick together (hi Simon, I’m talking about Ed!). So, that’s how long that’s been!

And then Teresa, who I used to share an office with when I came over to Switzerland the first time, almost 8 years’ ago, but who then moved to Amsterdam, has now returned to Zurich and is working in the same building as I am. How bizarre is that?

Zurich can be strange like that. Five members of my old Medical Affairs team are now working either in the building where I am or in the building next door (and not in the old team). It’s like we just can’t move away from each other.

Another person I met up with that I hadn’t anticipated at all was Paulo, my former manager, who had moved back to Brazil maybe four years ago now. He’d come over with his family for a holiday in Europe and passed through Zurich en route, so I got to see him again after all these years, too.

Anyway, it’s all been amazing. For now, at least, the gods have been smiling down on me.

Zurich - Swiss National Day

Swiss National Day and the Gnomes of Zurich

This year, August 1st fell on a Saturday. It’s a bank holiday here in celebration of Swiss National Day. Unlike in the UK, where if a bank holiday falls at the weekend, it’s moved to Monday so that people can still benefit from a day off, in Switzerland, if the holiday falls on a Saturday, it’s on a Saturday. Tough luck for all those who work Monday to Friday only!

Since I don’t get paid for bank holidays, I was quite happy about this. However, fortunately Steph emailed me on Friday to remind me that the shops would be shut on Saturday and that I would need to get my food in on Friday. I just about managed it, but didn’t buy a loaf to make my sandwiches (I’m contemplating giving up with this) as there wasn’t really any nice bread left. I did go round to the local supermarket on the Saturday just in case it was open, but it wasn’t.

Another thing that’s peculiar to the Swiss (I think, but I could be wrong) is that they can buy fireworks on only three days of the year. One such occasion is for Swiss national day. It’s not like in the UK where, come November 5th (“fireworks night”, “bonfire night” or “Guy Fawkes’ night” where we celebrate a foiled attempt at blowing up the House of Lords back in 1605; if I recall correctly, this day is also known as “Gerard’s birthday”), the shops are full of fireworks. In Switzerland, it seems to be more discreet. Maybe it’s changed in the UK, as I haven’t lived there for 8 years now, but I remember counters with rows and rows of fireworks in almost every shop as November 5th approached. However, in the UK you can in any case buy fireworks pretty much whenever you want throughout the year. I remember in my childhood, on the approach to bonfire night, the television would transmit many safety warnings and gruesome pictures and stories of what had happened to people who hadn’t handled the fireworks with due respect. It was all part of the run-up.

Therefore, it was quite a shock when I went to Cologne once for New Year (hello, Julie!) and people were in the streets just throwing fireworks off a bridge down onto the road below. Maybe we had stumbled into a bad area, but I think there’s a more ingrained awareness in the UK of the danger of fireworks due to the annual Guy Fawkes’ celebrations. It’s part of your childhood to watch those safety adverts year in, year out.

Anyway, there are lots of fireworks on Swiss national day. I got a bit freaked out as I turned my lights out last night and heard a hissing sound coming from nowhere until I realised it was a firework going off somewhere (not in my flat, I hasten to add!). People also hang out flags and bunting and will often invite friends round for barbecues.

I don’t know if they’re sold in the UK, but here in Switzerland you can buy ready-boiled eggs (picnic eggs). The shells are painted in bright colours so that they’re not mistaken in your fridge for normal uncooked eggs. Anyway, on the approach to Swiss national day, the eggs become painted with the Swiss flag. There’s no mistaking which country you’re living in at this time of year!