"Please Don't Steal Me" - The Desperate Plea of a Pink Bike

I know many of you are waiting with baited breath for news of the PB (Pink Bike).

After first trying to get it onto a bus 1. without the driver seeing it (not easy, pretty much impossible) REFUSED and 2. casually pretending there wasn't a problem REFUSED, I stashed it behind a church. Sacred ground and all that. Please don't get stolen.

The girls and I went home, we had dinner and I put them to bed. Still not sure how I was going to retrieve the PB. I had visions of walking into town and then riding back (a feat that would have taken all night - SO NOT happening!) So I called the lovely neighbours, and with my desperate pleading they agreed to drive me into town and pick up the PB.

I felt like a thief, creeping around the church grounds in the dark and putting a random bike in the back of the car.

The black clothing and balaclava I was wearing probably only fueled people's suspicions. Hey, I was cold.

PB is now home safe and sound. It had better be used, pinkness and all!

Kissing BigFoot

So today I went skiing.

I know, I know. I dislike skiing and all that, but we had the most fabulous snowfall last night and the season is nearly finished, and the sun was so sunny when I woke up this morning, that I kind of got emotionally tricked into it.

I'd been wanting to try out a set of skis, called BigFoot. Let's just say they were created around '90 and, well, never really took off. But they're about half the size of normal skis, with toes on the end! and I thought perhaps I could pretend I was rollerblading down some Alps. You know, as you do.

I took regular skis up the gondola as well, to keep at the top, in case BigFoot and I didn't get on so well. And slowly, but surely, I made it down. I didn't love them, especially when I realized you can fall flat on your face with them (kind of impossible with normal skis).
But, we will remain acquaintances. At the very least, I made myself laugh all day with my BigFoots and my 80's ski jacket. Watch out people, here comes a blast from the past.




At 4:30PM I remembered about those skis I'd left up the top. And, as they weren't coming down by themselves, I headed toward the Gondola.
I was *um* using somebody else's ticket to go back up. Somebody else's with their photo ID, but, hey, I was just quickly going up and back and they never check the tickets.

I nervously got on the first gondola, wearing dark glasses and trying to act cool.
I got halfway, where you have to change gondolas, and the second gondola didn't seem to be running. I hung around the entrance, looking for another option besides walking all the way to the top and a man offered to let me in through another entrance (main one was closed) and I was very thankful.

I was the only passenger and feeling a little nervous (remember, NOT my photo on the ID) and so I made some conversation with the operators, a couple of young-ish guys. English with an Australian accent in Switzerland - always a plus. BUT they wanted to check my ticket. Thankful for my dark glasses, I cooly gave them the photo ID ticket with someone else's photo.

It was a long moment: look at me, look at the photo, back at me and back at the photo. But I think my Australian accent distracted well, and I was let aboard, the only passenger.

Up we went. Me and my private gondola operator. Knowing I spoke English, he chatted and asked to sit next to me. I couldn't say no, I was sitting on the only seat.

After a couple of minutes , he asked my name, and I introduced myself as Kylie.

I immediately wanted to stuff the name back into my mouth. Kylie? My ticket said Natalie!

I am NOT good at this someone else's ID thing. I've had too much practice introducing myself as Kylie.

He held out his hand to shake mine and introduce himself and then leaned in for the introductory kiss on the cheek. Uh, I thought to myself. This is the downside to living in Europe. So much kissing people you don't know.

I pulled away but he held tight to my hand and reminded me that this was Switzerland.

Damn you Switzerland. You with your THREE kisses. And YOU, sleazy operator guy. Learn the difference between cheek and almost my mouth. Ew.

After the third very deliberate kiss, I pulled away and slid along to the edge edge edge of my side of the seat. Who makes these things so small!? My nervousness about the ID kept me chatting (shut up, will you!) and I chatted my way out of the gondola to avoid further physical contact with Mr Sleaze.

Switzerland protocol or not, I was not kissing him goodbye three times.

Dear Swiss, I Will Miss...

Dear Swiss,
I will miss you.

I will miss you sweeping the road with a dustpan and brush. Yessir, that would be cleaning your bitumen roads with a dustpan and brush.

I will miss your children going on and on in Swiss German to me as I smile and nod.

I will miss getting a foot of snow in about 3 hours [today], and you coming along in the minutes afterward with your snow plow.

I will miss your whole Kindergarten class coming to your house to pick you up on your birthday. All coming up the road with their stick horses and Pringle cans aka drums. Singing.

I will miss eating the most amazing Zopf breads in the world.

I will miss the wide and luxurious chocolate choices I have at my fingertips...in my mouth...right now. Ah.

Love Kylie, who had all these Swiss things happen today.

Kylie's Top10 Most Awesome Things from The Week That Was

So, in case you didn't know - being a part of a family who are packing up their house for a year to go traveling is hard work.
I'm not having the best week. Have worked a lot of extra hours this week, and I'm still hanging tightly to a head cold....plus Christmas songs have taken over the Radio. But, despite this atrocity (yes, yes I know, worse things have happened) I have a Top10 from the last week.

Kylie's Top10 Most Awesome Things from The Week That Was.

Shall we count down? - but in no particular order....

10.) Jill gave me an awesome present of Nutella, Carambars and A Physical Blog (also known as a blank notebook) for whilst I am away on the boat with no internet.

9.) I found 85 cents whilst cleaning the Laundry.

8.) I told the girls the story of the boy who licked a metal pole during winter. I explained a metal pole by pointing to the stand of MLF2's desk chair. MLF3 promptly went and licked it to "see what would happen."

7.) I got to finally see nicknattayaabbygeorge in their new home here in der Schweiz. It's amazingly beautiful. I get to live here for a little while when I come back from the States!




6.) I got a BIG (not gigantic or anything, but medium sized) box in the mail for Christmas. Tonight I opened it, just to see what was inside. I shook one of the boxes and I'm betting on a box of BBQ Shapes and I'm so excited. (Don't judge me - BBQ Shapes and I have been parted for a long time!)

5.) My sister Kaity had her 21st (Hip Hip Hooray!) and I called during her party and totally used and abused the situation by catching up with all her/my friends. 3 cheers for Skype. And for Kaity, since it was her birthday...

4.) The discovery of an AWESOME gift game. I love gifts and I love games so this was the best time ever. I've been meeting pretty regularly this year with an awesome group of people to discuss what it means to make Jesus a reality. And this week we had a Christmas party and I won a packet of popcorn.
I'd like to dedicate this packet of popcorn to my sister Kaity, because she loves popcorn the most in the whole world. And also because I stole many of her party guests away from her party to talk to me the other night.

3.) Cake. Birthday Cake. It was MLF1's birthday yesterday and this equals cake. Cake for days. Happy Birthday MLF1!! Thanks for choosing my Banana Cake as your PRIMARY birthday cake. I feel awesome and affirmed.

2.) Tomorrow morning all the kids from the Primary School start at 7AM and walk through the Village shaking and hitting and clanging the noisiest things they can find. What an awesome tradition for the last day of school for the year. I made MLF3 a bottle with rice in it. She thinks I am so clever. Such admiration in her eyes. I have reached the highest point of my Au Pair career. You think I'm joking. I'm not.

1.) And last, but not least: Singing Christmas Trees. They're pretty much awesome.

A Royal Visit & A Plastic Silver Sword

I know I should be blogging about Greece. And Holland. Report of dream holiday is overdue. I know.
But I must admit the prospect of going through all those photos is daunting. And so I'm putting it off to the weekend. Somebody, make me do it on the weekend, please.
PS: Weekend, where are you? Why are you taking so long to get here?!


But in other news, I was picnic-ing at the Lindenhof (a beautiful park overlooking Zurich, and includes the oldest wall in Zurich) yesterday. Nicole and I were sitting on the wall, braving the cold weather (did I tell you it's winter here now? So rude!) and out of the corner of my eye I notice a man.
Nothing unusual.
Except that he's donning a cape/coat.
A red one with fur trim.
He's putting on a gold crown.
He's mumbling out over Zurich.
Maybe he's cold. Coat and Crown keeps you and your head warm.
He's taking out a plastic silver sword.
Holding it to the sky.
He's got a huge book. He's either got really bad eyesight and needs extra large print or he's stolen a prop from Snow White.
He's reading from the book, mumbling, waving the sword around.
The police drive by. Surely, I think, they must think this odd.
They slowly drive by, bemused looks on their faces.
Arrest him! I want to scream at them. Lock him away!
But they do nothing.
What if he's casting a spell over Zurich?
Perhaps winter will disappear. Please stay, strange kingly man. Bring summer back.
But then he closes the book and and puts it in a shopping bag.
The sword, crown and cape/coat soon follow.
Soon he is a normal man again.
A normal man surrounded by shopping bags at the oldest wall in Zurich.
I wait for winter to melt away and summer to return.
Nothing.
I give him the benefit of the doubt. These things take time.
Still, nothing.
Arrest him! I want to scream. Lock him away!
But now he's just a normal man.
A normal man with a plastic silver sword poking out the top of his shopping bag.



*I managed to take a photo of the strange kingly man. I needed it to prove my story.

Synchronized Relaxation

Spring has sprung and yesterday was so beautiful.
Problem was, everyone in Zurich thought so and they all apparently decided to come and picnic at the same place as I.

Just this last week, I was re-telling MLF3 the story of the Berenstain's Bears - The Bear's Picnic, from which the following illustration is from.
And then yesterday I felt like I was a part of the story (see above photo...)



For a country that has a reputation of citizens generally keeping to themselves, the Swiss don't seem to mind group relaxation. I find it bizarre. But I guess I come from Australia - land of the wide open spaces - where you can picnic in peace.
I'm thinking this could be the next tourism punchline for Australia.

Australia. Picnic in Peace.

I'm loving Spring here - it's such an obvious change. Having said that, today is an overcast grouchy day, but yesterday ... by the lake ... kind of covers for it.

It's All German To Me

So I've been trying hard to sign up for German classes. I tried a few weeks back and their classes were all either full (no room for moi) or empty (can't start without enough people). And so I fell beneath the crack and waited a while before I called again.

This time I had to come in to do some sort of test. I explained that I knew no German and just wanted to sign up for the beginner's class but they insisted that I come in for the test.
Their testing time was quite inconvenient but we managed to shuffle kids around like a good deck of cards.

Miraculously, somehow I arrived too early for the scheduled time but presented myself anyway. Incidentally, I was able to meet with the testing lady immediately because the previous appointment was a no-show.

I followed Testing Lady down the corridor as she chats away to me in German.
This is a test, I think to myself. Do not cave, don't give in. Just smile and nod.
We sit down at her desk and she introduces herself - I think - in German. She also gives me half her life story - I think. She may also have been commenting on my fabulous hair that day or my amazing shoes, but I can't be certain.

She holds out her hand to shake mine.
"And I'm Kylie."
"Oh...You don't speak German?"
"No." This is why I want to sign up for the beginner's class.
"None?"
"No."
"You didn't learn any at school?"
"No."
"Did you learn any language at school?" Her tone of voice may have reached incredulous at this point.
"No."
"Any extra-curricular language activities?"
"No."
I want to disappear under her disdainful, incredulous look. But I chose good looks over special powers when I was born.
She does her best to cough politely. "Oh....Ok."
It is at this point that I resolve to myself to do better in my next life. To take private language tuition as a four-year-old. Or at least to become good friends with Rosetta Stone.

"Well, then. You will need to join a beginner's class."
Dang. And I was so hoping to be put me in an advanced class.
I thanked her and left. Two minutes and this compulsory test was all over.
And with my spare time? The Opp Shop.

Snippets of a Weekend Adventure.

DESTINATION: Geneva
VIA: Vevey

I leave the safe comforts of the German region of Switzerland. I always travel after 7 (Gleis7 - ha! Take that Inspector Ticket!) and it is about 9pm I think when I switch trains at Bern. It is my first time out of German speaking Europe and all of a sudden I am completely out of my comfort zone. I had a comfort zone? But I hadn't realized how much I knew and recognized of signs and places etc. The train was so crowded and it was hard to find a seat. Free ticket pfft. Everyone is speaking French. And I must have chosen the craziest carriage available. It is full of Army boys and I think school kids on a trip. I think. I really have no idea. But there is a roll call going on and I'm half expecting my name. Everyone else gets their name called out. But all the other kids have one! But I shrink lower and lower in my seat, hoping to disappear off this foreign country of a train. The crazy French.



I wake up to the most wonderful view - I can see France out of my window. It doesn't look any different to Switzerland but, hey, I've never seen France out of my bedroom window before. Actually, I've never seen France at all. It is a wonderful weekend with Aline and her family. Strange how one can feel so at home with strangers. They even had a piano - ah bliss.
And Vevey has a giant fork. You don't see that every day eh?




And of course, there was Mamma Mia.
It was all I had hoped for and more. I allocated a whole blog post for it. It was goooooood.
Aline remembered that her favourite teacher lived near the Geneva Arena and so we popped in to say hello. She was indeed lovely and I now have a place to stay in Geneva :) This however cut our time just a little bit short. We then ran the whole way to the Arena (ok - maybe it wasn't that far but it almost killed me.) I just consoled myself that I would have died realizing my dream. Don't judge me.



After Mumma Mia we were waiting for 7pm so that I could use my Gleis 7 (ha! Take that Inspector Ticket!) and decided to take a look at this cool old church in the middle of Geneva. We walked in through a side door - and into the middle of Mass. But it was a really good 45 minutes or so. A chance to be quiet and have some space to think. Because I sure couldn't understand what they were saying. Pfft. A service in French. In the French part of Switzerland. What were they thinking?



Aline and I are walking home. It's about 9pm. Dark, but Switzerland is safe eh?
We're talking and laughing. Mamma Mia is bright and beautiful in our memories. I've converted yet someone else. All is well with the world.
Until Aline screams. I turn around and there is someone jumping on her. She is screaming and yelling and of course I am calm. Level headed. I take up my fighting stance - I know Karate, Judo, Pilates and Origami. Unfortunately I have no idea what the emergency number is in Switzerland. Or perhaps fortunately, or else I might have called.
Lucky for her brother.
Sheesh. You just don't do that to people.





I let Aline (aka Gung Ho) talk me into riding from her house in Vevey to Montreux. Destination: Château de Chillon. As I alight the bicycle the reality hits me that I haven't ridden a bike for...years. I feel like a kid learning all over again. But the allure of a castle proves too great and I'm a fast learner. Gung Ho leads the way and it is a beautiful ride. Today my behind argues with why I insisted upon visiting yet another castle in the space of a few weeks but it's always talking to me behind my back.
Château de Chillon is amazing. So much history. Lord Byron wrote the poem The Prisoner of Chillon from impressions and memories of this Castle. I even saw where he had carved his name.
Aline and I think we are doing so well. We visit torture chambers and dungeons and secret passageways. It is 10 minutes to 6 (closing time) and we are up to site & sight 21. There are 23 site & sights on the page. So well planned and how Swiss of me. However, then we turn the page over and realize there are acutally 50 odd site & sights. Sigh. I'm not that Swiss after all.
Ah well. Next time.

Metamorphosis: Being Sucked In By The Swiss

I've only been here a month.
But there is some unconscious metamorphosis happening.
It's subtle.
Did you know octopuses, chameleons, and some other fish change to fit their surroundings. And, apparently, expats.

Signs of this transformation:

• I walk around eating hunks of bread. Sometimes I carry bread with me. Just in case.
  
• I carry an umbrella around with me. Wherever I go. Just in case.
  
• I often feel the need to yodel. Thankfully, it's only a feeling and I can squash it.
  
• I'm wearing black and grey. My scarf is my form of identity, my piece of colour. A scarf defines who I am??
  
• My hazelnut consumption has increased a billion percent. This may have something to do with the chocolate that covers it but I'm not sure.
  

But then there are times when I just shake my head and feel like I'm on another planet.

• MLF1 & 2 setting their watches 5-10 minutes fast so that they'll be on time. They're 10 & 7. They're not supposed to understand what on time means yet. I barely understand it's meaning.
• I sometimes get these evil desires. I think it mainly happens on a Tuesday and a Friday. This may also coincide with the rubbish pickup days. I secretly want to casually lean down and rip the sticker off the rubbish bags. And keep walking. Not only would havoc be funny to watch, but as these stickers are worth a couple of Francs each, I could make a fortune on the black market. Does Switzerland have a black market?
• On the Road. I'm something of a crazy person when I'm driving here. I hunch over the wheel, eyes furtively glancing around, mumbling to myself. Stay Right. The driver belongs in the centre of the road. Stay Right. You're doing fine. Stay Right.

So perhaps it will all even itself out. And I'll be on time, drive safely, and stay away from orange stickers.

Today I'm being a part of World Blog Surf Day. There's a bunch of us who are linking to each other in a giant circle. A giant expat blogger circle. Cool eh?
Well the next stop on the circuit is Mark and his blog Traveling Without Moving.
He's got some amazing photos and videos and you can travel without moving! Worth a click!

Illiterate, Penniliess and Learning the Art of Bag Snatching.

So yesterday I pretended I was in a fairytale for the day.
I got to visit Disney's inspiration for His castle, go through Austria to Germany, and fly because I was wearing Astro Boy's boots. Two truths and One Lie. It's a fun game.

But perhaps more on that in another post.
Today.
I was doing the right thing and *cough* paying my *cough* fine. Somewhat begrudgingly but at least the dirty deed is done.
The guy at the Post Office couldn't speak English. What is it with people not speaking English in this German/French/Italian speaking country?!
Midway through the *cough* fine paying process he made gestures. At the time I didn't know what he was trying to say. I raised my hands in question and apologized. Enshuldigung
He looked at me pityingly, and shook his head in a sad, sorry sort of way. In hindsight, I think I was supposed to maybe write my details down. In the split second after his pitiful look I realized that he thought I was illiterate.
But once you've made claims of illiteracy, you can't take them back. I would have just been digging myself a hole. You know, with my extensive knowledge of German and all.
And so I walked out feeling somewhat illiterate. And somewhat poorer.

Now that I'm pretty much a homeless illiterate broke bum, I walk toward my train and for once I was early. I think this was a first. Normally I'm running down the platform, bag and scarf flying out behind me, coat undone, and throwing money somewhere in this ticket machine vicinity.
Not today.
And because I was early I got to spend 10 minutes talking with this Little Old Lady, or LOL for short.. She had good English, she told me, because she read crime books, books of crime and books with criminals and the like. She asked me what time the train came no less than 6 times. Funnily enough, the time stayed the same.
LOL made me feel, mmm, somewhat nervous with all her crime talk. She seemed sweet, but it's never who you expect ja? She could've been a bag snatcher for all I knew. You never hear of little old ladies bag-snatching but they would have the element of surprise on their side.

From the Mouths of Babes

MLF3 and I were hanging out in her room this morning. I was making beds etc and reading her her nursery rhyme book. She was singing along when she knew the words.
Side note: I couldn't convince her that it was not:
Twinkle Twinkle Little Stark
How I wonder what your ark.

Anyway, it started to snow while we were up there and as it got a bit heavier I was kind of excited. You know, coming from a non-snowy place and all.
Look, MLF3, Look outside!
What?
It's snowing!
Yeah.....so? (Ok, so she didn't say 'Yeah....so?' but her look said it all.)

It was cold today. When I had to pick up MLF3 from Daycare I wore a jacket and a scarf. It was pretty cold. On the way home we passed the friends of the family (remember from last weekend skiing...) and the four year old came running up to me and this is what I heard,
Blah Blah Blah Volkswagon
Translation: Why are you wearing a scarf? It's not cold enough!
Serious. Her Dad translated for me. I protested that it was cold but actually I walked home feeling rather wimpy.
It's not cold enough. Pfft. It is!


And in other news, I'm heading to Luzern tomorrow to discover an adventure and on Sunday am going to Germany to go on a castle crawl. Yip Yip.

Toto, We're not in Kansas anymore.

I've spent many hours wandering around Zurich in the last days and seen many strange and wondrous things.
Some I've understood.
Some I haven't. Actually, most I haven't.
Mostly I've just been reminded that I'm quite far from home.

Yet again, surprised by the innovation of the Swiss. So clever. I almost wish I were Swiss.




I said almost. Imagine having to deal with the best of Swiss gastro!

It wasn't that good. Quite disappointing actually. Still, a McDonut was hard to resist.

It was a bowl of broccoli. I'm serious. And I don't think it was for eating.

Zurich has a giant toy store. Floors and floors of toys and things and lollies and fun and crazy kids whining and cranky parents and declined credit cards and stuff and stuff and stuff.
But who cares? I got a photo next to a life sized unicorn! How cool am I?

And - something not so far from home....Charlie & Lola! (Actually Clarice Bean, but same dif). Hooray for me! I would have bought the card for myself, but I'm feeling fine so not really appropriate.

And to think that I saw it on Mulberry Street

I love the Dr Suess book - And to think that I saw it on Mulberry Street. I was telling a friend about it the other day. In it, a father tells his child to be aware of what he sees throughout the day so that he can come home and tell his dad all about it. Some pretty amazing things happen in the book - and I had a few little inner laughs today as I explored some new streets of Zurich.


A lady dressed in red with a very large basket of strawberries. I think she chose strawberries because they matched her outfit. And she ate them in the space of 15 minutes. From Zurich HB to about Kusnacht Goldbach.
I couldn't believe it. I was wishing I was wearing red so that she might offer me one. Or two.
Then she unwrapped a beautiful box of chocolates. But she was just looking. She re-wrapped and put them back in her bag.
They wouldn't have matched her outfit.

A young punk with a musical instrument case on his back. A violin perhaps? I started to follow him as I had been searching for the Zurich Music Conservatorium. Just to have a look. I followed him for a few minutes - inconspicuously of course. He'd stop and turn around. And I would be engrossed with my watch.
Or oops! My shoelace needed tying.
Alas, he lead me to ... his motorbike. Not the Music Con.

A man in black - the national Swiss colour. He was wrapped up in so many layers, in fact it was hard to find him. I asked him if he knew where the train station was. He apologized - he didn't speak English. And then I apologized - I didn't speak German. So I put my hands in a questioning pose and asked for the bahnhoff. He then rattled off a big long list of directions - in German of course. After many wild gestures, I set off in the general direction. I think I need to take an express German course.

Peter Dinklage - only much taller. You know the actor who plays Trumpkin in Prince Caspian and the dwarf in Death at a Funeral? Today he was running really fast towards me. Except he was much much taller. And he was huffing and puffing and looking really angry.
Ok, so if it wasn't Peter Dinklage, then maybe this man needs to team up with him - so that he can play both short and tall characters.
I tried to tell him this as he shot past me, but he didn't seem to keen.
His loss.

Half a dozen little kids on little kiddy cars trying to cross the road. With only one adult. They all looked about 2. Apparently kids develop early in Switzerland. But seriously, I really wonder what they were doing. First one across is the winner??

Lots and lots of people at Brocki-Land. I felt somehow connected to them all. I walked in and instantly felt at home :) It seriously is the thrill of the hunt for me at second-hand stores. I love it. It was huge - I kept rounding corners and going down stairs to find aisles and aisles of stuff. So much stuff. I didn't really need anything but it was therapy just to look...
But of course, I couldn't leave empty handed.
I left Brocki-Land quite some time after I entered and when I left it was snowing. I need to become more swiss and carry an umbrella. I've never carried an umbrella in my life!

First Impressions

This is a copy of a letter I wrote to some friends tonight....It took a long time, but it has been good for the soul to think slowly through what I've seen in the last few days. These friends of mine don't use the net, so I'm sure they won't mind sharing with the blogging world ;)

Rubbish! - No Wait! We can recycle that!

It's times like this that I'm sure all foreigners just shake their head and mutter, 'the swiss.'

I just spent the last 2 hours sorting cardboard from paper and paper from newspaper. And newspaper from cardboard.

Then we bundled it all up into little bundles of joy, I mean recycling.

They waste a lot of string in this country.

And you have to do it right. Or else the recycling pickup people just leave yours there. To embarrass you, I'm sure. In front of all your neighbours, friends, and passer-by-people. Rejected by the recycling committee.

Or else they send you a letter in the mail.

Seriously. It happened to a friend of a friend of mine.

Who would have thought? And that's just the paper/cardboard/newspaper side of things. Tomorrow we deal with the clear glass/green glass/brown glass/tins/cans/plastic bottles.

Such a glamorous life.