Divide and Conquer

For their next adventures, Martello and Trofie Wife split up, each laying claim to a different swath of Switzerland for the weekend, with Martello skiing with his officemates on the French side and Trofie Wife visiting her family in Zurich (the German side). Martello had a great time skiing, particularly enjoying the freedom of not having to wait for me at every turn.

While it was nice to see her family, Trofie Wife definitely had been sold a false bill of goods (prior to getting on a train) regarding her niece and nephew’s ability to sleep through the night (they, in fact, don’t know how or have a very loose definition of "night"). As per usual, my child tolerance level capped out after about ten minutes (apparently, I was even zipping through bedtime stories too quickly; sorry, I wanted to read my own fascinating book). I did have some additional patience for the swapping of dirty looks with the tiny one (she senses my derision for her kind, and I sense that she already has the sarcastic wit of an adult, likely gifted by her father), who is continually confused by my physical resemblance to her mother and lack of a similar level of affection/ability to feed her.

About 12 hours into my stay, my overtired (due to the non-sleeping children in her care) sister managed to drop her house keys down the elevator shaft en route to the park, so our Saturday afternoon excursion (originally meant to be time at the lake) turned into an adventure to get the spare key from my brother-in-law (whose office, thankfully, is situated near the main Sprungli chocolate store). The rest of the day included naps (always a plus), a trip to the park (where I had to negotiate, with a persistent munchkin, regarding the number of sticks that would be permitted in the apartment (one, but he might have lost that privilege somewhere along the path home), quality Asian fusion takeout, sisterly bonding time (with children stashed away), and Vicky Christina Barcelona, which was truly fantastic (thank you, Woody!).

WANTED: For obstruction of sleep. Armed with instruments and surprisingly skillful lungs.

However, Trofie Wife's attempt at blissful sleep on Saturday night dissipated around 4:30 a.m. when the type of loud noises that could only be made by a baby (or toddler or whatever she is) emerged from the room next door; by 7 a.m. the older one was banging his tambourine. It was clear that I really needed to get out of that place! So, I maneuvered myself to the train station and enjoyed the truly gorgeous rail ride between Milan and Zurich (if you ever have the chance to do it, please do; you pass all the lakes and rows upon rows of mountainous skyline).

During my nearly two-hour layover in a sunny Milan, I ruminated on how we needed to spend more time there (preferably outside the train station). When I finally arrived in Arenzano, I basked in the quiet of our apartment and greeted an equally exhausted Martello when he walked through the door about an hour later. Trofie Wife slept very well that night, thank you.

Baci e gelato,

Martello e Trofie Wife

Wandering Around Zurich Town

We awoke on our second full day in Zurich eager to tour historic sights. Our first scheduled stop was the Kunsthaus, which Trofie Wife had toured at length (after being scolded in German for not putting my coat in a locker) last January but which Martello was curious to see. Unfortunately, it’s closed on Mondays (and we thought it was just Sunday that was the problem in this place!). So instead we headed to the two major churches in town, the Fraumünster (featuring stained-glass windows by Chagall and Giacometti; see photo of outside of church below; sorry, no cameras allowed inside, but here are some links: http://www.sacred-destinations.com/switzerland/images/zurich/fraumunster/resized/chagall-windows-cc-al-lanni.jpg; http://www.pbase.com/emi_fiend/image/39213313) and the Grossmünster (http://www.sacred-destinations.com/switzerland/zurich-grossmunster.htm). We hiked up the creaky, narrow, wooden stairs of the Grossmünster tower (which would certainly be viewed as way too dangerous for two-way traffic in the United States) so that Martello could capture a lovely view of the city, while Trofie Wife stood far away from the edge and clung to the railings.

Fraumunster clocktower (those Swiss and their clocks!)

We spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around the Niederdorf neighborhood (the older part of the city, too much of which has receded into a cheesy, overpriced, tourist-attracting, bar-laden area) and weaving back and forth across the many footbridges, taking in one picturesque site after another.

With two trips to Zurich already behind her, Trofie Wife had still not tasted a proper fondue or raclette meal, so although I am lactose intolerant, I believed this was a necessary undertaking in order to fully understand Swiss culture. On my first visit in late 2006, Zurich Sister and I had nearly gone to Adler’s Swiss Chuchi on the advice of a friend, so I decided it was the best place in Zurich for Martello and me to have an authentic fondue/raclette experience. I really didn’t know, however, what the difference was between these two cheese delivery apparati prior to that meal (and I bet most readers don’t either). Fondue involves strangely-pronged, mutant forks and the fairly easy task of dipping bread or whole mini potatoes from a fairly large sack into a cauldron of bubbling cheese. Raclette, on the other hand, involves way more work. The waiter plugs a cheese grill into the wall and the diner then places her cheese (in my case, gouda) on the grill. When it seems melted enough, you use a spatula-like instrument to scrape it off the grill and onto your plate. I was given a whole assortment of things to throw the cheese on in addition to the potatoes and bread—onions, pickles, pears. (This is at least how we ate the raclette; it could be the totally wrong way to do it, which wouldn’t surprise me.) This meal was, of course, accompanied by a healthy dose of Lactaid® (that one’s for you, Johnson & Johnson Supplier). Yet there are some meals that even super duper fast-acting, enzyme replacing Lactaid® can’t handle—a risk that I was willing to take in order to check this culinary experience off my list. I just wasn’t ready for the ensuing results.

There are moments in one’s life where your actions can lead you to question your entire purpose for being. Changes in behavior so vast that you can’t look yourself in the mirror. Well, just an hour or so later, Trofie Wife had one of those (actually, it was two, which compounded the breakdown). First, while I had been eager to show Martello around Globus, the beautiful Swiss department store with a stunning basement-level gourmet food shop, I could not muster the energy, my stomach still weakened. While this turn of events disappointed me, Martello wasn’t similarly bummed, so it wasn’t a huge deal (since I had already made a dent in my savings there twice before). But what happened next gave me metaphysical whiplash. We made our way to the Sprungli flagship (remember, the one I couldn’t wait to visit?), and I could not motivate myself to select chocolate. Yes, you heard me correctly. I just couldn’t do it. I tried to find the year’s vintage chocolate bar but it didn’t seem to have been released yet, and I had no energy to select truffles. I grabbed one box of assorted carrés (dark chocolate squares filled with flavored nougat) and asked Martello if it was okay if we left. Let me repeat that in case you misunderstood: I ASKED MARTELLO IF IT WAS OKAY TO VOLUNTARILY EXIT A CHOCOLATE STORE!!! When we did go, I had to sit for a few minutes in order to compose myself. I was out of sorts. I believed that I had lost the essence of myself if I was incapable of gravitating towards dark chocolate. I was afraid that we’d have to use our health insurance for emergency choco-therapy sessions. Yet, thankfully, after some reassuring words from Martello, I felt better. Later that evening following dinner, I opened the carré box and just to make sure the problem was solved, I had two.

Baci e gelato,

Martello e Trofie Wife

The Swiss Underground (Wait, Aren’t They Neutral?)

On our first full day in Zurich, Martello and I slept in as late as our hosts (especially our mini hosts) would allow. We finally mustered ourselves to the Pain Quotidien around the corner where Zurich Sister eventually met us (after being relieved from duty) and then lead the way up the Dolderbahn (they just throw these funiculars all over the place in Europe!) and gave us a tour of the sporting facilities and newly-refurbished Dolder Grand Hotel (Foster and Partners=multiple photos; the place is rumored to charge over $800 a night—and I just verified that rumor; eek!).

After our descent, we parted from Zurich Sister and took a quick tram ride to the Stadelhofen train station. While it previously had only been known to me as the embarkation point for the airport train, it turns out that it was designed (with great fanfare) by Santiago Calatrava, which calls for lots of photographs (sorry, I didn't download those, but if you're really interested, visit http://www.greatbuildings.com/buildings/Stadelhofen_Railway_Stati.html). Trofie Wife stood in the cold while Martello shot every angle, nut, and bolt. She was rewarded for her patience with a hot pretzel with mustard from the ubiquitous chain, Bretzel Konig (sadly, no plain pretzel baguettes were available).

Much like the county of my youth (dreaded Bergen), Zurich runs on stiff Blue Laws that keep much of everything closed on Sunday. Italy—of Mass on Sunday— is actually a bit looser on these matters; some stores are open on Sunday, but the catch is that you have to wake up and get there before they close at noon (except for the grocery store in Voltri, blissfully open until 9 p.m. every night). Strangely, there is an exception in Svizzera for stores located beneath the earth, so many train stations are equipped with underground shopping malls. After the photo session ended, we descended to the station’s Sprungli chocolate store, a member of the chain that I had not yet visited. Sprungli, for those of you not in the know, is most likely the absolute best chocolate store in the world (and those of you who know me and my chocolate habit well clearly understand that I don’t throw around such a designation lightly). It’s a pristine monument to not only chocolate but pastries of every kind, particularly the delicate Luxemburgerli buttercream-filled macaroons (in such flavors as chocolate, mocha, and raspberry and which, Martello beware (and Zurich Brother-in-Law also be joyous!), I just found out can be shipped internationally…). Since I didn’t consider this small Sprungli to be a “real Sprungli” (like the flagship in the city center), I stuck to ordering only a small chocolate cake and a selection of Luxemburgerli (and saved the heavy-duty chocolate shopping for later in the week). Trofie Wife will have you all know that these purchases were shared amongst everyone with working teeth in the Freiestrasse apartment.

We arrived home just in time for pre-bedtime playtime. Martello and Frank Lloyd “I Don’t Yet Know My Left From My Right” got to work on the schematic for a new wooden structure, further proving that if people just learn to work together, we can overcome the greatest of differences (those being, allegiances to the Yankees in the former’s case and the Red Sox (note below actual red socks) in the latter).

After the kiddies (don't worry, we'll post shots of the other one in the coming days) were again tucked in, Zurich Brother-in-Law introduced us to the pleasures (especially when you have surround-sound speakers) of renting movies via iTunes. Zurich Sister and I went to bed with nightmares courtesy of The Dark Knight (clearly some fantastic acting from Heath Ledger, who actually died the last time I was in Switzerland). Stay tuned for news about “tomorrow” (which was really 12/29/08, but who’s really keeping track...).

Senf und bretzels,

Martello e Trofie Wife