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- Downtown Zurich
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- Horses in the mist
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- Wet rocks, i.e., no climbing for Ross from Bozeman :-(
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- Wild Swiss mountain goat
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- There are apparently mountains out there
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- As seen in the New York Times (see link at end of post)
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- Swiss suit after hours, Paradeplatz, Zurich
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- And the swiss suit’s lady
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- Downtown Bern
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- From the Bern Cathedral
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- Bern
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- As rural Swiss as it gets
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- Thuner Lake near Interlaken
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“The Sound of Music” – Julie Andrews
Upon entrance into Switzerland I am greeted by fair blond maidens who adorn me with wreaths made of flowers, Swiss chocolate and Swiss Francs. We twirl and dance and sing the songs of the hills. A cow chimes in on cowbell and I ride him into the mountains to a giant lake of bright, white milk. A waterfall turns to chocolate and the lake to a foamy Swiss mocha. I swim and drink and am full. A fairy carries me to my home inside a beautiful hollow where gnomes bake bread, smoke pipes and play the flute. I am lulled to sleep on a pillow of captured clouds. Or was it all a dream?
When I awoke I was with friends from Montana at a country villa outside Zurich. We ate well, celebrated the beginning of a new family, frolicked in the misty forest and hiked up a mountain. Misty clouds swirled in the sunlight at the edge of the mountains framing and obscuring craggy cliffs and the distant valley below. The echo of a mountain goat’s tiny bleat bounced across the towering rocks. We descended and cooled our barking dogs in a cold crystal lake. We returned to the city to swim in the river and mingle with the movers and shakers in the richest city in the world. Ahhh Zurich. I almost bought a $30,000 watch but became distracted by a chocolate shop instead. Methinks the chocolate a better investment. I went to Credit Suisse and inquired about my ancestral Swiss account; they pretended like they knew nothing. I await word from my boy President Hans-Rudolf. Big ups, Ha-Ru!
I hopped a train to Bern and was greeted with a rooftop breakfast and the esteemed company of Manuel (re: Spain) and his lady. I swam in the river and joined new friends for some footbal. I wore Barcelona colors. I somehow scored goals, made a fool of my American self and stopped not the onslaught of kicks from the opposing team’s female striker. We climbed a churchtower, swam some more. I descended into an underground esoterical bookstore where the Gandolf-like proprietor stood counting stacks of coins on the counter. I asked if he was still open. He said it wasn’t a store and as such was never open or closed. I asked if I could look around. He told me not to touch anything and that nothing was for sale. I wondered where the coins came from. I inquired about some Tolkien. He asked me why I inquired. I said because I might want to buy a book if he had it. He angrily told me nothing was for sale. I bid him farewell and disappeared in a magical burst of smoke.
Manuel and I ventured to the Berner Oberland (upperland) and hiked to a classic Swiss village with giant glaciers spilling off giant mountains into the verdant valley. Back at Manuel’s parent’s home we ate raclette with delicious country cheese, cold beer and fresh cherries. I slept well and awoke to the smell of a baking cherry pie.
Or was it really all just a dream? Were the hills really alive with the sound of proverbial music (kept at a tolerably low volume, of course)? Do gnomes not exist just because humans have never seen one? Is Michael Jackson really dead if we still dance to “Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough” in posh Zurich plazas?
I have not the answers to these quandaries, but dreams and magic are often unexplainable. And one can never have enough good dreams and/or magic.
Dankeschoen Switzerland!
R.I.P. MJ
“Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough” – Michael Jackson
http://www.nytimes.com/slideshow/2009/07/07/arts/20090707_JACKSONREADERPHOTOS_SLIDESHOW_7.html
