Parents in Lausanne 2009

Long Time Gone

I was recently made aware of the fact that my posting activity has been less than consistent. So here's a quick update, before I can get more slideshows together.

On Thursday, September 17, every single member of the "Thompson" family (3) reunited in Geneva. My parents stayed here in Lausanne for about a week, and I kept them moving every day. There were roadtrips to remote mountain peaks with only the sound of cow bells penetrating the thick, chilly fog. There were midieval (sp?) castles explored. There was fondue, of course. Coffee. Chocolate. You know, all the things you can get "exactly the same" back in NC. We rode train after train, scenic tours featuring alpine beauty that no city could begin to capture. It was great to see my family, and I look forward to more visits in the future. Here are my parents at Chateau Chillon just east of Montreux along Lac Lèman (Lake Geneva):

After the parting of the ways back in Geneva (everyone seems to be getting better at this by the way - soon the need for counseling may no longer even be a concern!), I headed back to Lausanne for a day or two before boarding the 6:20am train for Munich and Oktoberfest. There I met my friends Joe and Laura from Charlotte for the weekend. There were beer steins, there were brats, there was weinerschitzel, and good times had by all. On Sunday, we found a spot at the tables outside the Hofbrauhaus tent and parked there from a little after 11am til 8pm. Long day, but it passed quickly with our new local friends Susi, Stephan, and Anita. They first thought that Joe and Laura were my parents (this is getting old, people), but we moved past that. Below is a pic of me and my new parents, then me and Susi. Ich bin ein Münchener!

With another week of vaca (or "holidays" as they say here...annoyingly), I left Munich headed south to Austria. Innsbruck was a beautiful little town, and I'd love to get back there sometime when I can stay longer. It hosted the winter Olympics twice ('64 and '72 I think), and one leftover is the giant ski jump that I hiked to the top of (renovated in 2002). They can actually jump year round, so there were a couple guys just going round and round, riding the lift up, then jumping into thin air on the way back down. Pretty cool. Below is the landing area with Innsbruck in the valley below and some nearby logging (reasons for this explained below).

Next day, on to Italy. I was supposed to stop in this little town of Bolzano, but the train gods were not on my side that Tuesday. First, the Austrian ticket counter seller man told me the wrong platform, so I missed the train out of Innsbruck and had to wait another 2 hours for the next (but in the meantime I went to the park and got my Jason Bourne Supremacy on), effectively ending hopes of getting to Bolzano's "ice man" museum. Then, when I finally made it on the right train (note: despite the fact that he told me the wrong platform yet again) to Verona. There, since the train was going on to Milan, I asked around whether it would stop in Brescia (home of Mark and Dana) along the way. No one spoke English, but then this apparently very well-traveled American business man gave me his two cents: "Oh, yes, I take this train all the time; it definitely stops in Brescia." Famous last words. Ninety minutes later, I found myself in Milan frantically searching for a ticket counter opened at 9:30pm. No counter, but thanks to a ticketless dude and a drunk kid who'd travled all the way from Berlin that day, I got where I need to go, arriving in Brescia only 2.5 hours late. Thanks to Mark's taco salad, I didn't go hungry.

While in Brescia visiting the recently un-deported Southards, I took a couple day trips to Desanzano and to Venice. With Dana working, Mark was an excellent tour guide. Below is Desanzano's quaint coastline on Lake Garda.

Venice, while of course one of the most unique cities you'll ever visit, turns out to be one of the most touristy cities as well. It's really tough to see that anything other than tourism takes place there (there was no PwC office in site). We took the waterbus down the Grand Canal, wandered the narrow, winding, carless streets, toured all around St. Mark's Square, including the bascilica, and had some great eats. I am a HUGE fan of the "piadine" these days. While I like Mark a lot, we didn't take a gondola tour together. Even if we had wanted to, I think the middle-aged Japanese men had the market cornered.

Back in Brescia that night, the three of us went out for a traditional Italian meal. My entree of cavatelli was very good, but the main story was the antipastas they brought out sort of as appetizers. Delicious. The first looked terrible, but it was the best eggplant dish I've ever eaten. There was also salami, cheese, and bread, but the little round onions stewed in balsamic vinegar were my favorite. Not sure the name of this hole in the wall place, but it was very small, not heavily trafficed, and had its daily menu written in chalk up on the wall.

I returned from my travels on Friday, October 2 from Italy. The 4.5 hour train ride was long and initially very crowded, but I had no connections, which was a nice change. Back in Lausanne, I opened my computer to find 200+ emails. Gave up on that pretty quick. Then came facebook, where I learned that the father of a very close family friend had passed away earlier that same day. Not to be outdone, my mother tells me on the phone that shes in the emergency room with my grandfather. These sorts of things make you want never to go on vacation.

The next morning, I rested up and started to get organized for the busy week ahead. But another phone call from home put a stop to all those plans: my grandfather had passed away. He'd been taken by an aggressive virus that showed its face Friday morning and took about 12 hours to do it's damage. Lee was not a well man, having just turned 87 the previous Monday and going to dialysis three days a week for around three years. But nonetheless it came as a shock to us all. I honestly thought I'd make it back to see him again before his time would come. So I quickly made the necessary arrangements, and after flying Geneva-Frankfort-Philadelphia-New York-Raleigh on Sunday, made it back for the funeral the following day. It wasn't the reason I wanted to be visiting home, but it was still good to see the family after four months abroad.

The logs in the picture above were for Lee. He was a tree man, having logged for many years before turning to the crisote plant. I suppose the Innsbruck ski jump would have been interesting to him, but the fact that logging was going on just next to it would have put it all into perspective somehow. The pics were taken on Monday, September 28...Lee's birthday. I'd tried to call him when I got into the hotel, but ended up leaving a message since he was probably at dialysis. It's tough that I didn't get to speak with him one last time...to wish him a happy birthday personally...to tell him about those damn logs. But I'm told he got the message, and I'm thankful that for some reason he could easily understand me on the phone despite his lately deteriorating hearing. Lee will be missed, and the family will not be the same, but we are comforted in knowing that he has finally found the final peace that we all one day seek.

That gets us about up to date. I came back from NC and immediately began PMI's quartlerly review...still ongoing. Finally got out of my co-worker's guest bedroom and into my own place...nearly 2 months after the fire took out my other one. Things are slowly getting back to normal. I leave you will a funny pic. Mark tried to get me to buy this for Dana in Venice and carry it around all day in my backpack...

Things Are Looking Up

Now that I got the fire story over with yesterday, I wanted to share with you (dear reader) the great news of the week. And there is a lot.

First, let me begin with last weekend. As you will see from the post before last, I took a little trip with some friends to Basel to see the Swiss national team play Greece in a World Cup qualifier. The Saturday started with me taking a short train ride to Morges, sort of a suburb of Lausanne, where Rashmi and Cyril live right on the main town square. We had omlettes and took a stroll around the bustling market before hopping the train to Basel. Couple hours later, we arrived. It was a great, sunny day, so we decided to make it a walking day...no buses. We grabbed a sandwich at the grocery store and headed for the zoo. Not crowded at all, and the only animals we didn't get to see were the monkeys (just barely missed their building's closing time). Cyril was disappointed that we missed the seal show too.

So after the zoo, we headed back into town where the futball fans were out in force in their red jerseys. In need of a little luck (Switzerland was ranked a couple spots lower than Greece) before the game, we headed to a great Irish pub. They were showing the US Open and soccer on the flat screens, so we order some beers, some chips (fries), and took a load off. The game itself was entertaining, even if I'm not the biggest sportsfan who ever walked the planet. The stadium (largest in Switzerland I think, although small by US standards) was full of red, and each seat had a Swiss flag to be waved in support of the team. They were big fans of their fight songs, and of course they sang the Swiss national anthem at the beginning (they don't know if too well though). The Swiss kept the ball on the Greek's side of the field most of the game, but there were no real highlights until the last 10-15 minutes. You could tell the Greeks were getting tired despite having a near miss on the Swiss goal, and it wasn't long before the Swiss made it 1-0. After a couple other solid shots over the next minutes, the Swiss notched another and wrapped up the game at 2-0. Hop Swiss! (something like Go Swiss!) It was a late night getting home, but I think we made it back before 2am. Worth it though. Thanks to Rashmi and Cyril for the ticket!

Great news #2: On Thursday, my relocation agent called to inform me that my application at one of my favorite appartments from my search since the fire had been accepted! So by at least October 1, I will have a new place to call home. Finally! The location is great (old city) and right next to the metro and all kinds of shops and restaurants, the place itself is updated and large, but I might go broke trying to pay for it. If you visit over a weekend, you might find it a little loud, because the cathedral is just outside the windows, and they tell me Sunday mornings are full of bells clanging. But I will miss my old, burned up terrace. No lake view this time. Perhaps that will make me more appreciative every time I see it, instead of having the great view every morning. Anyway, I'm just glad to have a nice, new place of my own again. The process of settling in will start all over, but hopefully it'll be quicker this time.

Finale: This Thursday, my parents arrive! They will be my first visitors, which is most fitting. The Thompsons will be in town for around a week, and we have no major plans other than to just catch up and enjoy the city. Unfortunately I have no apartment to offer them board this trip, but I was able to find a recommeded hotel with a full kitchen included that is very close to where I'm staying now. My dad sent me this picture a month or two ago from the day he and his scout troop left for Bisset, Manitoba. I liked it quite a bit, but didn't really have anything to do with it...until now!

One last note: as we were sitting in the audit room this week having a team meeting, someone cracked on North Wilkesboro (clearly they didn't know I am not from there but from Wilkesboro). But as it turned out, of the 8 people in the meeting, fully 50% had been to the Wilkesboros! Four random people, of three different nationalities, in a single room, in Switzerland, at the same time...had been to my little hometown, population less than 10,000! What a world!

Catching Up

Quite a while since I've given much of an update, so here goes. You may want to grab a cup of coffee (tasse du cafè)...noir...because this post could run long.

Four weeks ago this Monday, I was returning home from work early to begin a virtual training about income taxes at 4:30pm. It was being held in the US, so the timing was a little weird and I had planned to use the faster and more reliable Internet connection from the new apartment instead of sticking around at Philip Morris. To my complete shock, the entire block was roped off, and the fire department and police were covering the area. I looked up to see dense gray smoke billowing from the roof of my apartment building (see previous post newspaper article).

After stumbling through a couple conversations with police and random on-lookers (most of whom spoke little if any English), I found out that the fire was in the attic (fifth floor) just above my fourth floor apartment. And it was not pretty. Fire hoses were snaked into the building and up the many flights of stairs, and it seemed as if the water they carried was flowing out of the windows and doors from the top. At some point, the red clay tiles began flying off the building and cracking apart on the street below as the firemen rushed to get to the source of the fire. It was hot and humid that afternoon, and I was in my suit and carrying around me work bag. As we waited for more information and the hope of getting into the building at some point, there was nothing to do but stand in shock. I didn't really want to take that tax training anyway.

After a couple calls, I got in touch with my co-worker Valentin, who left work to come help me in case I needed some French skills at my side. A couple hours later, we finally understood that they thought the fire was out. I was allowed to go check out the apartment for damage and to take out anything that I needed. We stepped through water a couple inches deep on the first floor to get to the stairs which were wet and slippery with foamy ashwater. It was a mess. The door of my apartment was kicked in when the firemen were trying to get to the attic along with several neighbor's doors, so a locksmith was scurrying around trying to replace everyone's locks before the night. Inside, the ceilings dripped all over with more of the ashwater, and you could see little rivers flowing behind the plaster on the walls (which later dried, cracked, and opened up like sores). Plaster was hanging down, and much of my furniture was pushed to the middle of the rooms and partially covered with clear plastic. Someone else's chair was on my terrace. Firemen and inspectors came and went freely. My glassware lied randomly around the apartment and stairway after use by the fire-fighters.

Some of my clothes were wet or damp (I just use IKEA racks for hang up clothes because the Europeans don't have the concept of closets for some reason...maybe the same reason they don't slice pizza?), but we grabbed up as many as possible and carried them out to Valentin's VW Golf. Most everything else would have to stay for a while, but I did take some other things like pictures that I just didn't feel right leaving behind in such a miserable-looking place. Thanks to the clear plastic, all my electronics survived (I think...I haven't tried anything since then), and the damage to my bed and couch (two most expensive purchases since my arrival) was mitigated. Like most everything in the apartment, they will just require some deep cleaning. The water-logged matress is a different story though. I used the trusty iPhone to take the shot below of the roof after the smoke had cleared. My apartment is the one on the fourth floor (fifth floor to you anglos) to the right of the half moon-shaped stairway window. And the picture following is from later in the week after they had covered the gigantic hole in the roof with a green tarp and I got a peak inside the attic. Not a pretty sight. My neighbor's collection of 250 comics did not survive.

Thanks to the generosity of some other recently-arrived Americans, I had a couch to crash on the first night after the fire. Jon and Ashley Tirey had not even settled into their own apartment yet, but yet they still were nice enough to help out Mr. No Luck. After that, I was in the Hotel Bellerive for the rest of the week. Nice, and close to work, but it was getting more and more expensive (especially without the ability to cook any meals) by the day. So over the weekend, I moved into a co-worker's guest bedroom, and I've been there ever since. The arrangement and living out of a suitcase has worked out ok so far, but I am ready to have my own place again. And I'm sure that Matt is ready to have his place back to himself. The next couple weeks were spent in great confusion about insurance and what to do with my furniture and where to live next and who would pay for different things. Not to mention I still had work to do. And of course I could do very little myself without any French skills, so I had to constantly ask my co-workers to help me call someone or go with me to ask questions, etc. Valentin and Karyn have been terrific. I have no idea how I will ever pay back everyone who's helped me out these past few weeks.

I tried to close with a video of the apartment from the day after the fire. But after about an hour of trying to upload, I have given up!

Basel Zoo & Futball

Smok'em If You Got'em

The short of it is, my apartment burned down. The long of it is, the building is still standing, but there's extensive water damage to my unit. So I'm out of an apartment for 3-6 months. In the Hotel Bellerive this week and until I can find a temporary, furnished flat. I will post more about it later, but here's the page 3 article and one picture for now. You may remember from an earlier post that I was very happy with my new bed after sleeping on a one person air matress for a few nights. The bed itself was ok after all the water damage and mainly needs some cleaning (as most everything else does too), but the matress and sheets will have to go. In the article, my terrace is the one to the left of the one with the flowers. Just when I had the place just about like I wanted it...BOOM!

"I Am Not A Man; I Am Cantona!"

After my fourth trip to IKEA yesterday (don't ask - it's sometimes difficult here without a car, so you take what you can get), I'd planned all week long to try out Lausanne's open air theater. It's down literally right on the edge of Lac Lèman, and it's really terrific with the little beer garden area where there are different boothes for snacks and food, beer, sweet girlie drinks, Nespresso coffee, or your basic assortment of bottled drinks (suppose popcorn was available too). The seats are just card table chairs, but the screen and audio are very good. They played lots of dramatic movie tracks (think John Williams) as the screen raised up, so it really gave you the sense of being "at the movies," if you know what I mean. My friend Johnny from Charlotte would love it.

I'd been excited about this all week, because Into the Wild was the featured film. It's based on a true story of this Emory kid who graduates college only to shun his trust fund family and strike out on his own adventure ending up in the Alaskan wilderness (e.g the "wild"). It's a mixed bag, as he ends up getting himself killed in the end, but a very good flick. Also, the soundtrack is completely comprised of original Eddie Vetter (from Pearl Jam fame) tunes, which would've been awesome on the theater's speaker system.

Problem was: I was so excited about the movie that I apparently completely overlooked the date. Turns out that Into the Wild is playing Monday night, not Saturday night...something I didn't know until I was sitting there and the movie actually started with some random scene I didn't remember. As the intro credits began, the title Looking for Eric flashed up on the screen. Being the eternal optimist that I am (?), I immediately was comforted by the fact that the movie was in English. Turns out, it was British English with Manchester accents, so I still only understood about 80% of what was said.

The movie was not bad. It covered a divorced, middle-aged postman who has this teenager-like admiration for former Manchester United footballer (soccer player) Eric Cantona, constant troubles with his unruly step-sons, and layers of emotional distress from leaving his young wife and baby thirty years before. The crowd definitley thought it was a comedy, based on its frequent outbursts, but the un-American English must have prevented me from seeing it this way. Not to say there weren't funny parts, but if you've ever watched PBS you've seen that the Brits view comedy a little differently than Americans. The funnier parts relate to the main character's hallucinations of Eric Cantona, who visits him at his lowest points and remains the constant philosopher and cheerleader..."Say 'non' like a Frenchman! Non!"

I will give Looking for Eric three out of five stars and would recommend it. Though I would recommend Into the Wild even more.

Alinghi 5

What's that funny name you ask? Team Alinghi is the current defender of the America's Cup, the oldest active trophy in international sport. It's presented to the winner of the prestigeous regatta race of the same name, which began in 1951 (predating the modern olympics by 45 years). Though the race is so old, it's only been run 32 times by my count, every 3-5 years it seems. This is because the defender must be challenged by another yacht club, something that has become more common in recent decades. Following USA's past dominance, Team New Zealand was a strong contender and holder of the cup in recent years, but in 2003 after a controversial rule change allowing team sailors to hail from countries other than the the team's sponsoring nation, Switzerland's Team Alinghi took the "Auld Mug" for the first time. Here the cup is on display in Lausanne on Swiss National Day, August 1, 2009.

Two years ago, upon a challenge by Team New Zealand, Alinghi once again prevailed in the America's Cup at the contest in Valencia, Spain. And next year, Alinghi will face the USA's Golden Gate Yacht Club in a yet-to-be-disclosed location. The Swiss are more than excited about the event and yesterday launched the Alinghi 5 on Lac
Lèman here at Lausanne's Port d'Ouchy in honor of Swiss National Day. Supposedly the largest boat yet to sail on the lake, it's a huge 90 foot catamaran so big that a giant Russian helicopter (the biggest and most powerful in the world) had to lift it onto the lake. Can't take credit for these two photos, but they add to the post a bit I think. There are some other pretty cool shots of the lift at this link. To get a look at the massive ship, I ventured down to the lakefront yesterday morning to see what I could see.

Mostly I could see tons of people. But I did get some good looks at the ship, none of which I did a very good job of capturing on camera. Here you can at least see the crowds of people and all the smaller boats that were following along behind the Alinghi 5 like little ducks or something. Finally, the ship headed out to deeper waters in the center of the lake and raised its sail before turning West-Southwest for Geneva. You can barely see the helicopter and little (daredevil) biplane above the ship that were in on the action too. In the background are the mountains behind Evian, France. As it was VERY sunny yesterday morning, it was also very hazy across the lake. The view is the best just after a storm when the clouds have lifted.

Last night around dusk the fireworks began to celebrate the Swiss national holiday. With all the regulations around here, you'd think fireworks would not be excluded. But it seems any three year old pyro with a few francs can buy and set off whatever he wishes. Besides the terrific display of fireworks shot from ships in the middle of the lake, random people and children setup their own Roman candles and other "completely safe" crackers in the midst of the crowds without any regard for others' eardrums. With my luck, I was certain to soon be blasted in the face with some errant firecracker, so I moved back to my nice little terrace viewpoint with my cone of Mövenpick ice cream before calling it a night. Random fireworks continued throughout the night, so Sunday afternoon now calls for a nap. ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.

Monday Evening

Not too much to report so far this week. I made it through my first quarter at my new client last week, so it was great to have a relaxing weekend. But it was still productive. As all of my furniture has now been built (thanks, IKEA), there was quite a mess here in the apartment. So I ventured out to the Coop City, which is one of the two larger grocery chains locally. They have other wares too, like vacuum cleaners. I promptly purchased the cheapest one I could find and made it back to the apartment on the bus before whipping this place into shape.

Just when you thought this blog couldn't get any more exciting, I'm about to blow your mind. Besides the new vacuum, I also got a couple nice long runs in this weekend (watch out October half marathon), found a new and improved grocery store around the corner with Cinammon Toast Cruch (though called something like CinniMinis here and without nearly enough sugar), discovered the ability to rent movies on iTunes, found a nearby theater where I'm going to see The Hangover featuring Wilkesboro's own Zack Galifinacus (sp?) sometime soon (in ENGLISH!), juiced up the blog a bit with a slideshow of last Sunday's Tour de France visit, ate a jambon/fromage/spinach crepe and some locally-renowned Mövenpick ice cream, and had my ears lowered. Nice little non-eventful weekend never hurt anyone.

Today was back to the grind. But we are comforted this Monday with the possibility of having Friday off. As it's August 1, my client is closed for Swiss National Day. My firm doesn't officially grant this as a holiday, but as long as things go well this week, Thursday is the new Friday (for this week at least). Perhaps I will spend the time figuring out what Swiss National Day is all about. Or maybe I'll just celebrate July 4th again.

Le Tour De Lance 2009

Last weekend I took to the hills...here called the Swiss Alps...for a little cycling action. Its first year coming through La Suisse, the Tour was winding up the mountains near Verbier in the canton of Valais. Verbier is a famous ski resort town best reached by gondola. But the riders took a different approach. We had an awesome time, one that would only have been better had Lance been the leader coming around the switchback instead of his teammate Contador. Take a look.

Italia for the Weekend

So the weekend of July 4...took a little trip down to visit the Southards in Brescia, Italy. We celebrated by visiting Verona for the day on Saturday before coming back to Brescia for cheeseburgers (Italian-style, of course!) and Budweiser (sold in 3-packs?). It was a great time, and many thanks to Mark and Dana for hosting. If you have a few minutes, check out the slideshow I put together at carolinasalut.slide.com.

Movin' On Up

So, for those of you who voted (none, I believe, since I have yet to disclose the whereabouts of this blog to anyone I know) and said that I wouldn't keep up this blog beyond one week, you are hereby out of the competition. Although it's been two weeks since the last post, I'm back. And better than ever.

This weekend was a tremendous success, but I'm absolutely exhausted still. It began on Friday (as all weekends do of course) when my shipment arrived from the US. Peanut butter, Easy Mac, Folgers...your basics. And I didn't feel bad for the delivery man, who had to carry the multiple boxes up the four flights of stairs. This, because I knew what was in store for me the next day.

On Saturday morning, I boarded the 8:28am train to Allaman, which is this little town about 25 minutes west of Lausanne toward Geneva. There sits the greatest tourist attraction in all of Europe: IKEA. It was packed when the doors opened at 9am. But by about 11am, I'd gathered up enough items to max out my new little UBS Maestrocard for the day. The Swiss not only like to save your money from others, they like to save it from yourself.

Courtney and Rene Leuenberger arrived not long after this to help me unload the big red van that IKEA rented to me for a couple hours. And up the stairs we began. Boxes and boxes later, my apartment was a disaster zone, but one with furniture. Hours and hours even later, my apartment was still the single largest repository for used cardboard boxes this side of the Atlantic, but it had a bed and a sofa. This, my friends, I consider a great success, considering when I moved in just over a week ago, there was me, my three suitcases, and a single-sleeper air matress.

Le Deck Terrace

Yet another cell phone picture, but you get the intended idea from the background. Breathtaking. On my first day in Lausanne (as soon as I got to my hotel and began unpacking, at which point I'd been awake at least 24 hours), my new senior manager called. The team was heading to a going-away party for the outgoing partner, so I tagged along to meet some of my new co-workers. After the velodrome (like roller derby, but with bikes) and a winery tour complete with tasting (half-glass samplings...sheesh), we ended up at this restaurant east of town. Of couse, the picture does not do the joint justice. That's France on the other side, near Evian. We can't figure out why they bottle the water here, since you might as well just drink out of the pristine glacierwater of Lac Lèman (Lake Geneva to us Yankees). After Le Deck, which was too crowded to get anything more than a quick drink, we headed to a terrific restaurant where we were served at least five courses in less than one hour. What a day for my first in Switzerland. The foie gras was not bad.

Movenpick WC

Very exciting. Here is my bathroom. There is no mouthwash or lotion or shampoo/conditioner, only the blue soap in the bottle attached to the wall, which is apparently all-purpose. It's in the bathtub/shower as well. Do you like the rubber ducky?

Ouchy Sunset

There's the big "C" again. You think it's moved too? And a little bit of Lausanne sunset. Although the sunsets here take about 4 hours it seems. Never thought the latitude difference would be so great as to keep it light outsided until past 10pm. Not quite Alaska, but not something I'm used to either.

Ouchy Swans

Near the boats in the picture from the previous post is this giant "C" at the Ouchy Harbor. I've not yet figured out what this is...art? a nautical sign? a wind meter? the last remaining letter from a giant German spelling of Switzerland...die sChweiz? And though I'm not positive, I think it swings around. I've not witnessed this, but it's like one of those old paintings with the eyeballs, where you look once and they are looking right, but upon next glance they are gazing left.

In and around the harbor can be found a multitude of swans. Who knows why. They are probably just the European version of the Canadian goose, just dressed a little better. And these are not the only birds nearby. I've been awakened several mornings by the lovely...achem...song of the crow, and I've been attacked (eg Newman in Jurassic Park, sans death) by dozens of little bitty birds out on the lake walk. Who knew they were such fans of kebab and gelato?

Easy Like Sunday Morning

It actually IS Sunday morning here, despite the fact that all of you are still dreaming of sugarplums somewhere thousands of miles away. But I thought I would take this opportunity to post a few pics I made with my techy new iPhone. On my Lausanne walk yesterday, I took a number of pics with my camera, but they will have to wait until the shipment arrives for upload. Meanwhile, the iPhone must suffice.

At any rate, the photo to the left is the Ouchy harbor, just in front of my hotel (center left). It's been a great place to get started in Lausanne.

Lausanne à Pied (by foot)

There are two directions in Lausanne: up and down. One might argue for a third...lateral...but this direction typically ends in up and down itself. I don't know if the hilly layout is unusual to this area of Switzerland, but it's certainly new to me. Today I decided to begin learning about the city, so I took the metro to the top (relative) of Lausanne and began criss-crossing back and forth on my way down through the city. Three hours later, I'm beat. As a former, beloved manager once put it: "all out of poop." Because Lausanne is not a grid city...something I assume is due to the age and the geography, the streets go every which way without making any real sense. But in the process of my trek, I passed by the cathedral (circa 1,300 AD), the city center (markets and markets and more), the new Flon area (a redevelopment project with all kinds of new shops and, apparently, bocce tourneys on Saturdays), Lausanne Gare (the main train station), the Palace (one of two 5 star hotels in the city with a picturesque view out to the lake), a great park (where ping pong and book clubs seems to have taken over the former basketball court), and finally my new apartment! and local grocery. The plan was to blend in as much as possible, but that was destroyed pretty soon: in walking near the cathedral, a man leaning over a railing smoking a cigarette (of course) began whistling "Yankee Doodle Went to Town," albeit a pretty poor rendition. Of course, this could have just been my own paranoia setting in. But if I hear someone whistlin' Dixie tomorrow, I won't have to guess anymore.