Snippets of Zurich

This next song is about what happens when a socially-awkward girl meets a socially-awkward guy. Which is: absolutely nothing.”

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Alper Magrone – pasta and potatoes in a creamy cheese sauce, with caramelised onions? So far, so yellowy goodness. But the ingredient list is not done! Also added – pureed apple, and perhaps a hint of cinnamon. It kind of works, but I can’t help the feeling that someone dropped the dessert in the main and just thought “what the hell, I’m going to go with it”.

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From the not-everything-is-dating-advice dept:

“Your wife really should take better care of you”, suggested the airport masseuse, after being amazed by the climbing-induced sorry state of my shoulders.
“Alas, I’m not married”, I offer.
“Well, your girlfriend then.”
“I don’t have one of those, either”
“Oh! Then you should go swimming!”
“Swimming is a good way to meet women in Switzerland?”
“What? No! I meant, swimming would be good for your shoulders.”

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As the internet has taught me, “more cowbell” should improve anything. But I’d never actually heard them in their natural habitat – that is, attached to cows. My god, they’re loud. Other than that, hiking along a Swiss hilltop through an autumnal forest, with summery weather, is thoroughly enjoyable. To illustrate, this was my route (to just past the tower marked by the arrow):

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It is hard to keep a straight face on the shuttle that links the two parts of Zurich airport. At the outbound platform, a sign declares “30 seconds to Heidi”- refering to a clever series of photos that, when driven past at speed, have a flickbook effect of animating said fair maiden. That’s fine. However, the yodelling, flugelhorns, mooing and, yes, more cowbells, are rather harder to take seriously.

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Communal dining seems to be very much a thing. I loved that cafe-culture was in full effect, with almost every eatery spilling out onto the streetspace around it, and hordes of people picnicking, enjoying takeaway, or just relaxing with a magazine alongside the river. On my first day I found one particularly popular bratwurst van, where the clientele spanned the range from immaculately suited financiers, via families with young children, or my tourist self, to a biker gang in leathers! It took me a very long time to find a table, then discovered why – you don’t sit by yourself, and if there’s space at your table complete strangers will join you (as two did). You don’t say much, but it feels a lot less lonely for a solo traveller like me.