Zurich - Back Again

Back in Zurich! (photo (c) Sheila Kunwar)

I arrived back at around 9.30pm on New Year’s Eve. From the airport, I caught the bus back home and walked to my flat. The air was cold and for the first time I really noticed all the Christmas decorations lit up in the windows along my street. Stars, shapes of Christmas trees, coloured lights, a whole array of decorations shone out into the dark night to welcome me. Blasts of fireworks echoed around me; up one of the side streets I could see a firework being lit, smoke furling in the air, and again, another misty cloud swirled further up the street where I was walking. Colourful sprays of light sped up into the night sky along with the cracks splitting the air. I had the full sense of being back, of it being New Year, of Christmas; time was defined, I breathed in the cold air, I was here, back in Zurich. It was like magic.

All the fireworks reminded me that the next day would be a bank holiday, so I dumped my luggage and went round to the shops to buy some essentials (milk, orange juice). I reflected that I must live in an area that’s particularly keen on fireworks as I couldn’t remember having heard so many before. Later, I learned that this abundance of fireworks was at least in part due to private fireworks having been banned in the city centre this year.

When I entered my flat, I felt that sense of relief I always have that everything was just as I’d left it. No burglaries. Leaflets were on my table about the fibre optic network that had been installed in my absence (on 23rd Dec – what a date to choose!), one of the orchids had now flowered in a beautiful, poppy-like, white and purple. A large box thing with handles had appeared in my kitchen. Even now I can’t remember what it is. It looks as if it might have been a hamper, but I can’t remember receiving one. It looks familiar and I think it belongs to the flat, but I have no idea where it should be. That’s the problem of living in someone else’s place – if things aren’t yours, you don’t pay much attention so you’re stumped if they turn up somewhere strange. I’d had to tidy things away since the fibre optic people were going to be coming into my flat in my absence, so it took a while for me to relocate my slippers, which are usually in the lounge or by my bed, and to find the kitchen hand towel, which I normally leave lying on one of the kitchen tops.

I checked my emails, flicked through the TV channels and settled down to watch Quantum of Solace, which, to my surprise, I hadn’t seen before. Relaxing in front of a Bond movie with a bar of chocolate is just the thing to do on New Year’s Eve. 

There was no mistaking midnight. Even with double glazing, the sound of the fireworks going off all around me drowned out the television (at first I thought it was guns in the film, but no!). I stepped outside, but the ground was wet, so I didn’t venture far. The air was alive with cracks, whistles, streaming lights reaching across the sky. I decided most of it was coming from the other side of the flat, so I went to the kitchen to see if I could see more from there.

To my horror and fascination, people were setting off fireworks right by the parked cars! To a Brit, this lack of respect for the danger associated with fireworks is completely mind-boggling – I’ve mentioned before about all the education that we have on television (or used to have, at least) and at school about handling fireworks. It seems like madness to light the fireworks just by a car. They even lit a jumping jack and it bounced along under the car. I waited with baited breath for the car to explode wondering if the car owners knew what was happening. Jumping jacks are banned in the UK!

To my astonishment, some people came out and went round the cars with a torch. Meanwhile, the fireworks continued to be let off just beside them. I assume those people with the torches were the car owners. They made no effort to reprimand the people letting off the fireworks or to speak to them at all, as far as I could see. For me, this was just beyond my understanding. I got too nervous watching the fireworks being lit so close to the cars (if the cars exploded, the window I was looking through may also explode!), so I went back to the film and further away from the action.

However, with the noise of fireworks all around me and watching a Bond movie, I felt that in my own little way I was marking the New Year and it was good to have that sensation of temporal locatedness again.

The next day was grey, cold, and everywhere was wet. The whole of Zurich was closed. 

I felt a pang of longing to be back in Sahl Hasheesh and felt I’d lost my way a bit. What was I doing here? I could be reading my book on the beach, I could be swimming. Why had I come back to this grey, miserable place? The memories of the sun and sea were stirring me into a sulk. 

I cured it by going out on a boat trip on Lake Zurich – to remind myself that life can be good here, even in winter, if I just make the effort!

Hurghada-Zurich - Return Flight

El Andalous - Beautiful Flowers in December

The time in Egypt went by all too quickly. I’d barely arrived and I had to go.

Hurghada used to be a pleasant airport – it was safe enough (I thought) and it all worked well. Now, though, security procedures have tightened. Although I appreciate the need for this and am in agreement with it in principle, I hope that the procedures will improve in efficiency at some point.

People had been saying you need to arrive 3 hours in advance. I thought this was a bit daft, but Nicole was taking me to the airport and she had an appointment, so she was taking me the whole three hours in advance. This was fine as I’m happy enough to sit and have coffee and cake or even just to read, if need be. It’s no great hardship.

As it turned out, I needed the entire three hours. First of all, the car was stopped as we entered the airport grounds. Nicole’s driving license was checked, they opened the boot of the car, they asked which of us was the passenger. Needless to say, this meant there was a queue of cars to enter the airport while these checks were performed.

I was at the new terminal and was relieved that the people in front of me were also going to Zurich as I wasn’t actually too sure if I had the right terminal (there used to be only one so I didn’t used to have to think about this kind of thing). You wouldn’t know that tourism was at only 30% looking at the queues as you entered the airport. The queue to get in stretched as far as I could see and, when I got that far, it turned out that there were only three luggage scanners, which was why there was a huge bottleneck. Heaven knows what it will be like when tourism is back to 100%! 

Unlike in most European airports, all your luggage was scanned before you even checked in (in Europe, you check in and then only your hand luggage is scanned). It’s always been like this in Hurghada, as I recall, so I’m not sure why the queues were so long this time. Anyway, that took me an entire hour. To be fair, I should point out that passport control on arrival in the US often takes an hour, too.

At least it meant that the check-in queues were non-existent. I checked in and then joined the queue for passport control. This wasn’t so bad. One confused guy tried twice to get through without having checked in and he was turned away twice, so the procedures were working.

I think – although I lost the plot a bit – passport control was then followed by a queue to check again that you’d had your passport stamped. Then you had to join another queue to scan your hand luggage, again. This was more chaotic. A German yelled out (in German) that one of the queues was for women only and it would go faster if people weren’t in the wrong queue. Luckily I can understand German, so I moved queues appropriately. I tried taking out my laptop, but a woman (again, in German) told me it wasn’t necessary.

By this time, the full three hours had passed. My flight was due to take off in 15 minutes, but they still weren’t boarding, so I nipped to a café and had a quick cup of coffee and a cake as I was parched after all that waiting and associated stress.

They checked passports again as you boarded and then one guy in front of me was patted down and had his hand luggage thoroughly searched with a torch as he entered the plane. A German woman complained very loudly about yet another check and how ridiculous she felt it was.

To my surprise I ended up sitting next to the guy who had his luggage searched again and it turned out that he was travelling with his twin (sitting next to him). Or maybe it was vice versa. Maybe I was actually sitting next to the twin and not him. I'm really not sure!

After that it was all plain sailing - or smooth flying is maybe a better expression - I treated myself to a wine (not included in the flight) and finally got to read my book. Finally, I was on my way back to Zurich.

Sahl Hasheesh - Sporting Highlights

Sahl Hasheesh - Horse Jumping Competition

The first day after I arrived, the beach was empty at El Andalous and, as I walked up to the Piazza (it’s so beautiful!), the beaches of the Premier Romance, Le Clessidre, and Il Gusto were also all only sparsely populated after the recent alleged bombing of the plane from Sharm El Sheikh. The weather was perfect, as it always is – blue skies, sunshine - and the mountains on that day were sharply defined.

I was headed towards the horse jumping competition just behind the Premier Romance hotel, near the Piazza. Horse riding competitions aren’t something I’d normally associate with Egypt, and Egyptians who do horse riding must be very much the wealthier elite. 

There seemed to be three paddocks – one for waiting, one for practicing, and then one for the competition. The horses were beautiful and the riders were dressed in full riding attire even in the sun. A few competitors wore what looked like captain’s or military suits adorned with golden epaulettes and shiny buttons. To my surprise, young children appeared to be competing alongside the adults, also all in the proper clothing.

Large white bean bags were dotted along the fences for people to sit on and there was one section with white folding seats. Trainers would yell at the riders (I got to learn how to say “hold her back!” in Arabic, but I’m not sure it’s going to help me very much) from the sidelines. The atmosphere was relaxed and convivial; there were quite a lot of Egyptians, cheering on their competing relatives, no doubt, and some tourists also watching on.

I’ve only ever seen these competitions on television before, so I was surprised at how small the course looked (it looks larger on TV). The first two riders I watched jumped clear rounds, so I initially thought that it was an easy course. I had to rethink that when each subsequent competitor gained faults.

The event was well organized. The next horse would enter the ring before the previous horse had finished, so no time was lost. I practiced my understanding of Arabic as I listened to the achieved times being announced over the loud speakers. Il Gusto had set up a satellite café/restaurant so that people could have a snack without having to walk down to the sea front. It’s not often that you see things so well planned in the Red Sea area. 

I was gratified to see commercial use being made of the otherwise empty land and rumour has it that international competitions will be held here in the future. It was fun to watch and all very casual.

But, predictably, swimming was my major anticipated highlight on returning to El Andalous. The water was colder than in Zurich or Turkey previously and on my first few days on the beach I’d even wonder for a moment if I really wanted to go in (but, of course, I did). However, once I got going, the sea was really quite warm (around 22 degrees?). I didn’t even feel cold on coming out of the water, so once I’d plucked up the courage to get in, I was fine.

I’d recently bought myself a Suunto Ambit3 Sport watch (inspired by someone from my swimming holiday). It has GPS and can map out where you’ve swum, how far, with which stroke, how fast you swam, how many strokes you use per metre, etc. I’m learning the crawl, so I wanted it to inspire me to achieve longer and longer distances.

However, although they advertised the product as waterproof to a certain depth, their adverts failed to explain that the GPS wouldn’t work under water and therefore would not be able to record breast stroke. These sporty types always assume that front crawl is the only stroke available! So, I spent a lot of my holiday playing around with getting the watch to function properly for alternating breast stroke and crawl.

After trying multiple ways of wearing the watch, I ended up attaching it to the back of my goggles. The distances seemed to be more realistic than when I wore it on my wrist or on the shoulder strap of my costume (the watch would slip down), but it can’t detect my stroke (yet). Getting the watch to work to my satisfaction is still a work in progress.

However, swimming every day brought home to me how healthy a lifestyle I lead in Egypt. I feel invigorated and brimming with health after my swim; it’s always that point of the day where I think that this is all I want to do in life. I’d go back to my flat in the evening and eagerly await to see which data my watch gave me for that day’s swim. It was frustrating not being able to stop and say hello to the fish (for fear of further disturbing the GPS reading), but hopefully I have more of my life left to do that again at a later stage. I hope the fish will forgive me.

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!