We stayed local this weekend, along with many of our Swiss neighbors. In fact, most of the Swiss we know aren't in a big rush to go on weekend trips, or even day trips. Why would they when not too far from home is a bike ride near apple and pear orchards or a hike through vineyards?
As much as I mourn my former urban and semi-urban lifestyles (four years in Manhattan and a year in Mission Hills, San Diego), I have begun to appreciate the quiet country life. Even the simplest instance of running into my Swiss neighbor four days in a row, not in our building but out and about, brings a smile to my face.
Friday, after Isaiah got home from work, we went for a bike ride along the canal that runs parallel to the Rhine. There's a bike path near our building that follows the canal through fields of cow manure and modern style residences. The evening air was the perfect temperature for a T-shirt ride, a cause for celebration since we couldn't be sure whether or not it would be our last ride of the season
ohne jacket. We briefly crossed paths with our neighbor who was walking her dog and exchanged a customary
"Grüezi."Saturday morning was surprisingly sunny, so after a muesli and yogurt breakfast we went for a morning ride. The bike trails were pretty deserted, as I'm sure everyone was hitting up the shopping centers before they closed. This time we rode near the hillside vineyards just along the outskirts of Au and Berneck. Our neighbor, again, was walking her dog. We acknowledged one another with a casual
"Grüezi" and big smiles. After some shopping across the border in
Dornbirn, Austria, we came home and went for an afternoon ride from Au to
St. Margrethen.
Sunday was pancakes and pouring rain and lazing about, but by the afternoon the sky cleared and the sun shone, so we went hiking through the aforementioned vineyards. This time the
Wanderweg trails were fully occupied by singles, couples, and entire families walking-off Sunday brunch. Who did we run into? You guessed it. We longed to be able to say more than
"Grüezi."
This morning I was back at the vineyards on my bike. Another gorgeous T-shirt weather day. I could get used to this! Of course, I ran into my neighbor again. This time I stopped.
She spoke,
"Blah blah blah."I nodded. I didn't have the heart to ask her to repeat herself
langsam because most likely I wouldn't understand her the second time around either. I couldn't let her down - she seems to think I can speak German.
I couldn't really say
"Grüezi" at that point because we were past greetings as she had launched right into chit chat. So I began,
"Das Wetter ist..."She finished my sentence,
"Wunderschön."
I repeated.
"Ja. Wunderschön."I wanted to say something like, "I want to take advantage of the weather while it's nice, so that's why you've seen me on my bike nearly every day."
Instead I opted for,
"Das Wetter ist sehr schön, aber wenn das Wetter ist nicht so schön, ich bin [miming sad face]."She responded,
"Blah blah Velo-touren jeden Tag, blah."Yup, she definitely noticed that I had been riding my bike almost
jeden Tag for the past several days...
Just because Lauren (a.k.a. Sister) couldn't do her skydive last Thursday due to cloudy weather over Interlaken, we couldn't go snowboarding over the weekend because none of the nearby resorts were yet open, and she didn't even get to see the first snowfall in our town (which she missed by a few hours since she left early this morning), doesn't mean we didn't have a great time together.
Our Thanksgiving menu: Rollschinkli cooked with fresh pineapple, Cornish game hens basted with apple cider and brown sugar (Sister smuggled in some C&H dark and golden brown sugars for us!), raisin and leek classic stuffing, rosemary mashed potatoes and homemade gravy, cranberry sauce with port and cinnamon sticks, green bean and mushroom casserole with French's fried onions (also thanks to Sister), candied yams (topped with Kraft mini marshmallows), and raspberry cobbler for dessert.
In a lovely house in Southern California, my family will be celebrating Thanksgiving Day without me, yet again. Lauren and I won't be there to tell our ridiculous arm stories -- oh, how we will be missed. Instead, we'll be frolicking in Interlaken, and then digging into a Thanksgiving-style dinner on Friday.
Happy Thanksgiving!
A Scot, a German, and an American walk up to the ticket booth of a mountain cable car in Switzerland.
We've lived in Switzerland for over a year now -- that much is true. We are bona fide residents, at least as far as the IRS is concerned. Despite our residence permits and resident status, if we were to live here another year or ten, I doubt I'd ever stop feeling like a tourist.
Walking around the city double-fisting it: sausage in one hand, roll in the other.
Frescoed facade
Intricate wooden oriel (bay window, right)
Well, it's been long gone for weeks now, but the summer (and early autumn) hiking season is officially over. Many mountain taverns closed shop at the end of October, tucked away in areas that will soon be buried in several feet of snow and possibly attacked by avalanches.
Here's my favorite subject posing in Malbun, Liechtenstein.
The snowy peak in the distance is Säntis.
I was too late capturing a funny Isaiah moment. In this shot, he's just slid down "the perfect hill for sledding" minus a sled. We didn't think to bring ours, but that didn't stop Isaiah from sliding down in his jeans.
Our friends Ueli and Berty live in a house that goes by the name of "Türli," which means little door. (How cute is that?) The story goes that when they registered to live in their town, the council explained that their house should bear the name "Türli" because long ago in the very spot where their house now stands once stood a little door. Anyway, in their front yard they grow grapes. For weeks I had been bugging Berti about remembering to call me when she and Ueli would have their yearly harvest. With the weather so dreary for the past couple of weeks, I was beginning to think it might never happen.
Back in San Diego, I had grown accustomed to being blinded by a woman pushing her shopping cart in the supermarket, her bling-bling engagement ring stunning me with its brilliance and beauty. Here, and throughout my travels in this region, I have yet to come across such an encounter. I am constantly scanning the female hands around me in search of diamonds, and if I am lucky enough to find one, it's most likely attached to an American hand.
Living in a Swiss border town, and one so close to several borders, means we visit a lot of other border towns. We've met up with friends in Feldkirch (Austrian/Liechtenstein border), gone swimming in Bregenz (Austrian/German border), and taken lots of various shopping, cycling, and side trips here and there. Popping over to Germany, Liechtenstein, or Austria is often easier and closer than visiting many Swiss cities, including Zürich.
Münster
Harbor
Schnetztorturm, part of the old city wall
We stayed local this weekend, along with many of our Swiss neighbors. In fact, most of the Swiss we know aren't in a big rush to go on weekend trips, or even day trips. Why would they when not too far from home is a bike ride near apple and pear orchards or a hike through vineyards?
Sunset over the Bodensee - Bregenz, Austria
