Suisse Cheese

(Ed. Note: What follows is a guest contribution by one of the longsuffering subjects of this blog. Enjoy.)

Mein Snowboard

We have a clear Nordic bias in our household, but there was a time when Noah was younger that I feared some of Wendy's German was creeping in under the door.

In particular, he had a penchant for using possessive pronouns incorrectly, such as exclaiming, "Mine blanket!"

Well, I found a billboard in Lucerne, Switzerland that confirmed what he was trying to communicate.

Midnight in Baar

We arrived in Zurich Sunday morning and took the train to Baar, which was homebase for the week. After decamping in our Ikea-furnished, ISO 9000 certified rooms at the Ibis hotel, we had a delightful lunch of butcher's offal fried in lard at the Gasthaus on the corner. Then our little party (I was traveling with a co-worker and her husband) took to the streets to view the Carnival parade - the Swiss Mardis Gras. Instead of passing out beads, they hand out shots of hard cider or schnapps. Otherwise, the insanity is pretty much the same. It was explained to us that each town has a different theme every year and that most of the costumes and decorations are hand-made and then sold the next year to another town who uses them.

This year's theme had something to do with a character named Rabedibum. (pictured)

There was a surprising (for me) amount of U.S. Politics on display in the parade, and I started to wonder if their "bum" didn't have something to do with President Bush. I never found out, as I stopped trying to communicate with the street people when I realized they spoke less English than I spoke Deutsch.

The Band Played On

The community bands who played were a stark change from America, where only high school or college kids march in parades. The ages of these hornblowers ran the gamut, which was probably a factor in what happened later that night.

After a long day of travel, I had managed to go to sleep around 10 p.m. I shouldn't have bothered. At midnight, the bands began staging again directly under my hotel window. They got warmed up with what sounded like the Minnesota Rouser, then slowly marched off down the street.

Jolson Finds Work

I mentioned the Swiss are more attuned to U.S. politics than even I am in these opening days of the Apocalypse. They had two floats in their parade themed around the recent presidential election. I was happy to see Al Jolson back on the stage playing the role of Barack Obama. Not sure who they found to play Michele. They do have black people in Switzerland, but apparently not in Baar. Anyway, the Swiss seemed happy with the election results. Misery does indeed love company.

YO DA LAY EEE WHOOO

The Swiss trip was mostly business. The corporate headquarters of the company I work for are located in Zug, which is a small village with a newer business park housing office buildings for some well-to-do global concerns. I saw a real estate ad while walking in the city and didn't see a house under 2 million Swiss Francs. Business is big in Switzerland because the corporate tax rates are comparatively low. I assume everything else is taxed pretty stiff, but if there's a restaurant tax, it isn't broken out on your bill.

All work and no play is really a foreign concept for me - more foreign, in fact, than paying to use the toilet. So I did find one day for skiing. On the recommendation of a co-worker, I went to Stoos, about an 1 1/2 hours by train and bus from Zug.

We went up to the mountain resort in a cable car that like all other forms of Swiss transportation, ran like a Swiss watch, even though it seemed to be going at a 90-degree pitch for most of the ride. It was a little hazzy out in the morning, but the view was still spectacular. (Spooktacular, I suppose, if you're afraid of heights)

Didn't know it at the time, but I rode up in the cable car with a woman who worked in the shop where I rented skis. She said some of the folks - and their livestock - live in Stoos year-round. In fact, I think I glimpsed Heidi cleaning out a cattle stall. The fresh scent of turned manure pile was evident, nonetheless.


Kalbsbratwurst Mit Pommes Frites

Considering I'm a hack on the slopes, I have nothing but praise for Stoos. After figuring out how to work the magnet-card-activated cues on the ski lift, I made it up to the top and discovered a lovely ski lodge and restaurant.

The view of Lake Lucerne was heart-
stopping, as was the view back down the mountain. But I took a break for some kalbsbratwurst. One does not appreciate being able to read a menu until one is not able to. I kept looking for Hansel and Gretel from that classic Bugs Bunny cartoon to pop up and explain it all to me, but they never did.

Fortunately, the Swiss are merciful in designing their ski runs.

There are ample crests built in so that it is easy to come to a stop every 400 yards or so, gaze at the mountains, and catch one's breath.

The snow was in excellent shape and my rental skis were sharp. Otherwise, I might still be up there.

Norm!

I'm all for absorbing local culture whenever I'm on the road, but after a week of trying unsuccess-
fully to read German (or listen to it on the TV...even the episodes of the Simpson's were overdubbed. "Die, Bart Die...indeed") I decided my last supper would break the rules. Sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name and where you can read the menu. So I ended up at the California Cafe in Lucerne. But I did make a final nod to Swiss culture by ordering the Lucerne burger, which was as best as I could tell a fried pork chop. It fit my situation perfectly.