One Year Down, ?? To Go

Happy Halloween! And happy one-year anniversary on Oct 31 to our family since arriving in Zürich!! Yes, it's simultaneously been the longest and quickest year of our life. So allow me to catalog exactly what we've achieved. Although many list items will sound mundane (they are), imagine the same accomplishments when unfamiliar with your surrounding city, culture, offerings and language. We were quite lucky with the frequency of English spoken in Zürich, things could have been much tougher. But being unable to read anything--packaging, letters, offers, specifications, instructions, etc. (especially in the beginning)--and every item being slightly different than what we're used to makes for a tough slog. And everything costing 2-3 times as much makes any purchase feel like a mistake at first. So here we go, one year of achievements in no particular order...

We worked through the red tape of residence and work permits. We moved twice in two months, first to outlying Kloten in Nov then to Zürich in Jan. We obtained drivers licenses two weeks ago without ever driving (and were repeatedly reminded of the extreme shortcomings of Illinois state government). We located suitable doctors and dentists and groomers and veterinarians and pharmacies. I've learned 1,400 German words and four verb tenses and more grammar than I've heard since eighth grade. We opened a Swiss bank account and circumnavigated online banking and security, conducted wire transfers and learned lessons about maintaining foreign (U.S.) bank accounts; we won a random bank drawing worth 100 CHF in wine. We figured out domestic and foreign postage and how to obtain and mail absentee ballots. We've found repair shops or made calls to fix bikes and espresso machines and smashed computer hard-drives and our Internet connection and washing machine. I finally found a male haircut for the rock-bottom price of 28 Francs instead of the usual 60 CHF; the only catch is you have to speak a little German. Steph only had one Swiss haircut (price = ouch!) in a year, the other two in the U.S.

We've managed through several iterations of electrical transformers and adaptors for all manner of devices; we've improved weak lighting and poor fixtures; we figured out the pay-per-volume garbage system, where using the wrong garbage bag earns a fine. We elucidated the various recycling locations and methods for each plastic, glass, paper & cardboard, and whatever doesn't fit in your kitchen garbage can (for example, big pieces of packing Styrofoam). We've purchased bedroom furniture and patio furniture and entire closets and other storage units without ever using a car. We paid triple the U.S. price (on sale!) for an imported Weber grill from Palatine, IL, a mere 25 miles from our old home, and never regretted it for one instant (I've had some snafus buying charcoal, however).

We figured out public transportation on trams, buses and commuter & interregional trains, including day cards, short trips, round trips, half-fares, weekend rates, add-on zones, flex-passes, dog fares and bike fares, all inside and outside the Zürich network. We acquired cell phones and astronomically expensive calling plans (no other choice), a phone land-line, broadband Internet connection (twice) and cable TV with digital recording. We learned to work several non-U.S. versions of ovens, stoves, washers, driers, and dishwashers; we learned lessons on laundry soap and mandatory appliance water softeners and mandatory dishwasher glass sparkler.

We haven't watched a single TV football or baseball or basketball game; we did watch TV netball games in Kloten. I haven't played a single hand of poker. We went out to exactly zero movies. But we did see R.E.M. in concert. And we have been bowling. I haven't driven, not even once; Steph drove once for work. We haven't skied (to be remedied in early December--who lives in Switzerland and doesn't ski??). We haven't been served a single unsweetened iced tea in a year, but we drink real Coca-Cola with cane sugar instead of high-fructose corn syrup.

On the cuisine front, we discovered Cervelat sausage, crusty Bürli rolls, Christmas fire-pliers Glühwein plonk punch, ubiquitous veal Kalbsgeschnetzeltes, mystery-meat Pferde, delicious cheesey Chäschüchli, chocolate-filled Schoggigipfels, German Maultaschen, Turkish Döner kebabs, blood orange juice (Blutorangensaft), Appenzeller bitters, Rivella Red and Tomme & Tilsiter cheeses. We still miss the burrito but found the best Mexican food in Switzerland (one authentic Mexican ingredient store + everyday grocery produce + our kitchen); we've never made better corn tortillas from scratch.

Healthwise, I was sick once a month for the first six months, but only once afterwards.

Hobbes has explored hiking trails and farm fields and cow pastures and dozens of parks. He's swum repeatedly in mountain-fed lakes and streams. He's a pro at riding on public buses and trams; he's ski lifted up mountains and visited cities in Switzerland that his parents haven't even seen. He's upset swans and ducks but won the hearts of Swiss groomers and veterinarians and pet-shop owners. He misses his old buddy Charlie but loves nature-friendly Switzerland.

Athletically, we swam in Lake Zurich and the Adriatic Sea. I road-biked up 1,800 feet in Zürich and mountain-biked down 3,500 feet in Interlaken; we biked from our front door to Germany (but not back). I hiked to the Alps' Faulhorn peak and ran two half marathons (far from equaling a marathon) but no triathlons despite training for them.

We attended 2008's second-largest world sporting event and Europe's most popular (practically in our backyard), participated in one of the world's largest outdoor rave parties, and spent three days at the world's most legendary beer festival. I saw a gigantic snowman's head explode and burst into flames.

Together we visited 26 cities in 8 European countries (blue tags on the map below); Steph visited six additional cities including twice each to Russia and Istanbul, Turkey (yellow tags, zoom out twice to see them all). We returned to the U.S. twice.



Most importantly, we hosted or rendezvous'ed with 11 different U.S. visitors on 15 wonderful occasions throughout the year. And although we spent our first seven months in Switzerland virtually friendless, we've since made friends from Australia, Canada, England, France, Germany, Holland, Italy, Mexico, Scotland, Sweden, Switzerland and the U.S. (thanks, Europameister 2008!).

A huge thanks to everybody for their extraordinary support, whether that means visiting Europe or just reading the blog and commenting or emailing once in a while, we really appreciate it! So we now have one year down and ?? to go.

Ah yes, and one other recent accomplishment. I also found a job. More on that soon.

October Snow

Ack! We had a bit of unexpected weather last night. This picture is NOT from last year, it's from this morning, Oct 30. Reportedly the most snow Zürich has seen this early since 1939. Der Winter ist schon angekommen! Winter has arrived!

Our September was particularly unseasonably cold and wet, but October had mostly rebounded to normal. Then yestereday the temperatures dipped amidst some standard rainfall and voila! Next thing you know it's snowing. And snowing. And snowing. All afternoon and night. Kind of fun actually. I don't know any place other than Minnesota that gets more excited about snow than Switzerland. Everyone here went to bed with their skis or snowboard last night. Because when it snows in Zürich, it must be absolutely piling up in the mountains. Steph and I are already part of a ski excursion planned for Dec 5; it seemed a bit early but might be just fine if things keep up. We had a cold and snowy November last year as well--we remember vividly because we'd just arrived and everything seemed so new. Maybe we'll see a repeat this year.

But here this afternoon almost everything has melted into slush already; still too warm for much snow to stick around, except on some rooftops. A few pictures of Hobbes' and my excursions (he loves the snow like nothing else): http://www.kodakgallery.com/ShareLanding.action?c=2hd8fyj.5lezcxb7&x=0&y=olx340&localeid=en_US

The Best Fest, Pt. 2

OK, I left off approach- ing the Hofbräu-Festzelt (party tent) in leather pants and suspenders. At 6:30pm on an un- seasonably cold Friday evening (which also happened to be a German national holiday) the Oktoberfest fairgrounds were completely packed. Unfortunately this didn't make things warmer, as my Lederhosen were the shorts version, not pants. Our U.S. group of 10 nudged its way shoulder-to-shoulder for twenty-five minutes down the main fairground aisle and then the tent aisle, finally finding the Hofbrau entrance for ticketholders. A short wait and we were in.

I don't know how to describe the environment other than complete revelry and chaos (and quite warm and moist); check out the pictures at the end of the post. The Hofbräu tent fits 7,000 people, mostly on reserved benches arranged so closely together that you're literally back-to-back (pressing somewhat uncomfortably) with your unknown neighbors. The ticket price includes 2 Maß (two liters of beer) and half a roasted chicken (surprisingly quite delicious!). Anything additional, e.g., a gigantic pretzel, more beer, etc., costs a few Euros. After one liter of beer, everyone in the tent is handling their BAC pretty well; things are under control. After one-and-a-half liters, everyone is bombed more or less simultaneously. Then everyone continues to drink somewhere between 2, 3, 4, ? liters more. Brain cells beware.

A centrally-located German oompah band plays mostly classic German drinking songs, occasionally interspersed with a popular song from the last 40 years (still in oompah format), and, literally every five minutes, a short toasting song called Ein Prosit der Gemütlichkeit, or "Toast to the coziness!" At first you toast your table-mates, but before long everyone also toasts the neighboring tables, then people spill into the aisles (due to simply too much coziness) and everyone continues toasting basically everyone all night long. Yes, beer is flying everywhere, and the heavy glass steins are dangerous. We met several awesome German people from Stuttgart and near Frankfurt. Under the heavy influence of beer, most were initially fooled into thinking I also was German and not American, due to my Germanic complexion, ability to pronounce five German words, and my dynamite Lederhosen. Everyone is politely herded out of the tent at 11:00pm; I was waylaid on the crowded dark fairgrounds talking to some weird drunk German guy and somehow separated from our group, requiring me to figure out the tram and walk back to our hotel alone. I somehow made it, Stephanie was justifiably relieved to see me, and I her.

Steph and I enjoyed the honor of repeating the exercise the following morning, starting again at 11:30am for lunch seating at the Hippodrom tent (colorful carnival theme, more upscale and considerably roomier at only 3,200 guests) with our Zürich group of 8 (German/Manhattan/ Australian/Philly/Mexican/Swiss). Guess what? Up to the first liter-and-a-half of beer, we were all still feeling ill from the night before. After that, we all felt great and started toasting the neighboring tables, etc. After 2, 3, 4, ? more liters we were politely kicked out for the next seating at 3:30pm, but then rendezvous'ed with some of the U.S. group and drank additional liters in a cold outdoor fairgrounds beer garden. Finally, for whatever reason, we returned to the scene of Thursday's crime--the Hofbräuhaus itself--for dinner and yes, more beer. Needless to say, craziness ensued all day and evening. I'll spare the details (I can't remember them all anyway).

As could be expected, Sunday was payback time from all the bodily organs harboring hurt feelings from Thu-Sat's inelegant treatment. And there was no escape during the four-hour train ride home. One of our Zürich number looked solidly green from 9:00am at the hotel through the entire trip until we arrived at 4:30pm; his stomach kept rebelling. Poor Stephanie exited the train (with me accompanying her) directly at the Zürich airport--not yet near home--to board a flight for Ekaterinburg, Russia of all places for a week-long work trip. Matt & Mel spent that Sunday night and partial next day with me at our place before continuing their honeymoon to Interlaken and then Italy. Every single Oktoberfest participant that I'm aware of caught a cold the next week; who would've guessed that three solid days of drinking in 40-degree wet weather would compromise one's immune system?

Regardless, the combination of old friends from home together with new Zürich friends at a spectacularly fun event made for our best single time in Europe the past year. A fair number of pictures have been culled so as not to preclude any Oktoberfest participant from running for public office later in life, but these are still good: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=2hd8fyj.3flf93f7&x=0&y=60q99s&localeid=en_US

The Best Fest, Pt. 1

I'll start with a zinger--Munich's Oktoberfest is the best time we've had in nearly a year in Europe and ranks among our top parties of all time. After having tentatively planned to attend for years but now finally within striking distance, our nagging apprehension that the event would be campy or touristy or overrated was off base. If marathon beer-drinking isn't your thing, you should probably select a different vacation spot. But if your liver can handle a weekend of craziness, this is the carnival for you.

In a nutshell, Oktoberfest (held since 1810) runs for two weeks and three weekends hosting six million visitors in Munich's festival grounds. It's a gigantic carnival whose prominent feature is a wide corridor of 14 "tents"--temporary structures but more like gigantic decorated warehouse buildings--hosted by local Bavarian breweries. Beer is served only by the Maß, or heavy 1-liter glass stein, early and often. Each tent holds three seatings per day, lunch from about 11pm-3pm, happy hour from 3-7pm, and an evening seating from 7-11pm. Tickets are required for bench seating, otherwise crazy people queue outside for hours for general admission standing room. Various tents hold anywhere from 2,000 to 8,000 people. The festival is additionally celebrated by men dressing in traditional Lederhosen, or leather trousers, and women in Dirndls, which look like a St.Pauli Girl dress.

Our Chicago friends Matt and Mel--who quit the rat race and have crewed in the Caribbean for the past two years and just obtained their own 45-ft. catamaran for chartering (check them out and book an awesome vacation at http://www.sailfreeingwe.com/)--got married the last weekend in September and subsequently honeymooned for two weeks in Europe, including visiting Oktoberfest accompanied by a group from their wedding party. Steph and I obtained tickets (via eBay in German, not easy) for the U.S. group for seats in the Hofbräu tent on Friday evening Oct 3, and we were also invited to the Hippodrom tent for Saturday lunch with a group of Zürich friends.

Matt & Mel came to Zürich to unwind for a few days at the Park Hyatt (he's a former Hyatt employee) after their wedding and before the big event. I greeted them at the airport and showed them around Zürich a bit the first afternoon before jet- and wedding-lag took its toll. The four of us spent two nice evenings together and then boarded the train for Munich on Thursday morning. The ride was uneventful save for an atypical draught beer vendor hawking his wares up and down the train aisles--at 8:30am (we declined, beer and espresso don't mix). The various U.S. group members and one early Zürich couple--our good Australian/Philly friends--rendezvous'ed throughout that afternoon and evening. Steph and I had briefly toured the city (two days, one night) way back in 1998 and our group similarly visited the Marienplatz and Rathaus Glockenspiel and meandered through the old town before (like all groups) being irresistibly magnetically drawn to the legendary Munich Hofbräuhaus am Platzl. In that cavernous raucous beer hall we luckily snagged a far-flung corner table, began drinking beer in earnest and seemingly barely stopped for the next 48 hours.

Coming out of the gates far too early on Thursday night made Friday afternoon a bit rough (I'd say Friday morning but we didn't actually see it). We walked from our hotel through dismal steady rain to Munich's enormous public park, the Englischer Garten, for lunch and a recovery panaché, or 50/50 beer with 7-Up (so as not to shock the system too much either way). After a critical nap, I donned my Lederhosen and traditional German shirt (obtained from eBay and a Munich clothing store, respectively) and we all headed to the fairgrounds (I was the only U.S. group member decked out but Saturday's Zürich group was well-costumed; Steph had tried in vain to procure a Dirndl...next year)...

OK, sorry to stop here for now, but there's more description and, more importantly, pictures of Hosen, Dirndls, massive steins, bloodshot eyes, etc., to come.

Basler Halbmarathon

My first triathlon season this summer/fall in Switzerland turned out nothing of the sort. Although I had trained for and planned to participate in a few short- to medium-distance events, none came to fruition. The first event had filled up by the time I tried to register, the second was preempted by our weekend trip to Paris (oops) and the third--in French-Switzerland with a killer hilly bike leg that I was really looking forward to--was obliterated by heavy rain and 40-degree temps on race day. So to keep some sort of athletic goal ahead of us, Steph, our Australian friend Kim and I signed up for the Basel Half Marathon (13.1 miles) in late October.

Unfortunately for Steph and Kim, too much international work travel (Russia+Turkey and Beijing, respectively) disrupted their training schedules requiring both to bow out, leaving me as the lone competitor. Kim agreed to join Steph in my cheering section, however, so the three of us met too early on a chilly Saturday morning at the Hauptbahnhof for a 7:00am train. Basel sits in the country's northwest "corner" where Switzerland meets both France and Germany, about an hour train ride from Zürich.

At 900 participants, the event seemed miniscule compared to our old Chicago races, where at least 5,000 people turned out for every 5k run. Conditions were perfect, cold but clear and sunny. Logistics were adequate, the main beef being a stated requirement to arrive 90 minutes before the start, when 30 minutes would have been more than adequate (every moment of sleep is precious to me). Somewhat bizarre for Switzerland, the course was mostly flat and 2/3 on concrete instead of trails, a welcome change from the Winterthur half marathon Steph and I ran in May. I rose to the occasion and smashed my previous best time, finishing in a quite respectable 1 hour 47 minutes (damn but the Swiss are fast, I didn't finish in the top 50% of men).

Soon after, I received congratulatory phone calls from from both our Dutch and Mexican friends; I only mention it because the support of three friends on the day was another hugely welcome change from our May race, in which Steph and I mainly supported each other. Developing a friend network is so important to settling into a new environment that I can't overstate it. Steph, Kim and I spent the early afternoon briefly wandering Basel's downtown shops after a satisfying lunch of pizza, beer, salad and fantastic French fries. The town is smaller and quainter than Zürich with more French influence. Steph and I will return in December for her company Christmas party, so we'll take another look around then.

Just to keep the day jam-packed, we had also planned to host dinner for our German/Manhattan friends (the same couple I'd seen that Thursday night). Steph did most of the work with last-minute shopping and pulling everything together by 8:00pm, and we enjoyed a nice evening hanging out, eating and drinking wine until nearly 1:00am, when both Steph and I crashed head-first into the pillows and slept like stones. To stretch out some leg soreness, we took Hobbes on a long, wonderful autumn walk up our Zürich hillside late Sunday morning, discovering a new French bakery & café (a huge addition to the neighborhood!) and wandering through vineyards with still-unharvested winegrapes and excellent lake views. After later meeting our Dutch friend to catch up over drinks (non-alcoholic) and a light lunch, Steph cruised off to Milan on Sunday evening for another work photo shoot, this one thankfully only lasting one day. All-in-all, a successful October weekend.

Race pics: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=2hd8fyj.bqj0op8z&x=0&y=-oagt1g&localeid=en_US


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In The Groove

Before recounting our two (yes, two) recent Oktoberfest experiences, I'll interject with a present-day update; it often helps me grease the sometimes-rusty blog machine. This prior week of October 19 depicted our (albeit primarily my) current daily lifestyle fairly well after nearly now a year in Switzerland. Stephanie had unfortunately departed for a week-long work trip to Istanbul that Saturday and left Hobbes and me to a week of bachelorhood. Now how should the boys fill that time..?

Our Chicago-Hyatt friend Dave returned Sunday from their first U.S. return trip in over a year. With him fighting jet lag and me a hangover from Zürich's Saturday mini-Oktoberfest, we convened for dinner at the Zeughauskeller, a staple German-style beer hall serving classic Swiss-food in Zürich's historic former armory; the food is hit-or-miss but my Wienerschnitzel and fries hit the mark perfectly. He also came bearing critical requested supplies from the U.S.: extra DayQuil and two jars of Frontera salsa. We discussed perceptions from his trip to Chicago, the financial crisis, election politics and life in Zürich for over three hours.

Tuesday was Steph's birthday (Happy Birthday!) and she couldn't have imagined a better celebration than working twelve hours on a photo shoot in Istanbul (ha!). Her co-workers did throw an impromptu surprise cake party, and her overall Istanbul experience was much improved over her initial trip back in March. I had been invited to an evening fondue boat cruise on Lake Zurich that evening with a dozen ex-pats, some well-known friends and other unknowns; I sat with three strangers (from Raleigh-Durham, Bavaria and Slovakia) and we had a marvelous time meeting each other and eating melted stinky cheese on bread cubes. The views of the lake's slowly passing village-lit hillsides were quite pleasant.

I scheduled two hour-long German tutoring sessions for the week; extended studying usually keeps me out of trouble. German is slow to adopt compared to, say, Spanish or French, but after eight months of lessons I may be finally turning the corner (and with an additional year I might actually become functional). Steph and I use a Skype-enabled tutoring service (me for German, Steph for French) and my instructor is a lingustics major originally from Russia and living now in Raleigh, fluent in six languages including German. Unbelievably, she used to host a Russian TV-cooking show called Die Geheimnisse der deutschen Küche, or 'The Secrets of German Cuisine'. Since I also love to cook, we exchanged recipes: I traded her the classic Zürich dish Kalbsgeschnetzeltes (sliced veal in a mushroom cream sauce) for a classic southern German dish called Maultaschen, meat- and spinach-filled dumplings like German ravioli.

So on Thursday I invited our friend from Heidelberg, Germany to my homemade Maultaschen dinner; his girlfriend from Manhattan also joined us after returning late that evening from a business trip to Berlin. The recipe turned out rather well (homemade pasta always impresses, pictured above) and he in particular was quite complimentary, claiming my creation the best Maultaschen he's eaten (and although it sounds novel to us, he's eaten a lot of Maultaschen in his life, much of it fairly marginal quality).

Hobbes also enjoyed an exciting week, visiting his groomer at the crazily-named Hundesalon Dolly, with whom he has become fast friends. They warmed to each other gradually after the first several visits, when she struggled a bit with his significant girth and hairiness. They don't make many dogs like him in Switzerland, but he's not so hard to get to know. We visited the neighborhood vet the following day as Hobbes hss been fighting a slight doggie cold and cough; he quickly learned the Swiss-German word for cookie (Guetzli) after eating as many as the vet staff would provide. He's more than happy to be poked, prodded, pricked, flipped upside down, you name it--as long as there's Guetzli at the end.

I met Steph at the airport for her long-awaited return home Friday evening (complete with souvenir pistachios and Turkish Delight), the remainder of which we laid low in anticipation of the Basel Half Marathon the following morning. I think I'll save that for an additional entry, however. Keeps me motivated to continue writing ;-).

French Quarter Quarterly

Whew, it's becoming harder and harder to catch up from my blog backlog! OK, prep yourself for some lame posts. Oh well, at least I have some pictures.

Steph had another work trip to Paris in late August/early September, which she craftily extended through the weekend for some R&R and invited her husband (me!) to join. All in the spirit of honoring our half-serious oath upon departing Chicago for Europe to visit our favorite city quarterly, we've surprisingly almost achieved that goal this year--our third visit in nine months.

I arrived Friday afternoon and after rendezvous'ing and situating ourselves at our favorite Hyatt Madeleine, we headed to a classically Parisian quaint grocery-shopping street for wine; Steph (who has been refreshing her French with a weekly tutor) impressed both the wineshop staff and me with a fairly full French conversation regarding our wine options. We promptly carried the bottles to a lovely dinner at the downtown apartment of one of Steph's coworkers, where we spent the remainder of the evening.

Saturday we again repeatedly rented the all-too-easy and so-available Vélib bicycles to explore Paris as we love to do. We checked out the city's outskirts, visiting the canal district for a very neighborhoody and different feel than downtown. We hunted down a recent award-winning bakery (and that's saying something, given just a bit of competition in the city) and over-ordered all manner of sweet and savory baked goods, which we promptly biked to a nearby park and scarfed on a bench. Cruising back into the city center in the mid-afternoon, we stopped at a lively Bohemian bar called Chez Prune for a beer before returning to the vicinity of the hotel. We shopped briefly at our favorite food shops around the Madeleine church (and peeked in the window of 2007's MOTY champion Maison de la Truffe) before the mandatory Saturday afternoon nap, necessary to pass our non-eating time more quickly.

We hit a neighborhood wine bar to warm up for dinner, a simple restaurant known for its steak frites; we make a point of eating steak outside of Switzerland, where the price-to-value relationship is a bit too out of whack by our spoiled U.S.-beef eating standards. We stopped at another café for a final nightcap glass of wine, until we realized how close we were to Harry's New York Bar (we've visited before), where we stopped again for a final-final nightcap. Harry's dates from the early 1900's; it's decked out with a fascinating array of throwback (authentic) U.S. university banners (which creates a weird sense of nostalgia) and is widely credited as the birthplace of the Bloody Mary in the 20's. They haven't lost a step, as the one I sampled again that Saturday night ranks as possibly the best (or close second) Bloody Mary I've ever imbibed.

Four hours on the train saw us home that Sunday. Chalk up yet another perfectly lovely trip to Paris, although I am slightly concerned how we'll fit in that final trip in Q4. Pictures: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=2hd8fyj.6hn4l8ib&x=0&y=-mcdd8z&localeid=en_US

Social Schmetterling

Oops, yet another blog drought for me in September and October, I suppose we've been busy (who hasn't?) and I need to keep these entries staccato or else they become too daunting. A German work colleague of Steph's recently joked that their Germanic language isn't the most beautiful compared to Romance languages, or even to English (also Germanic but heavily influenced by Latin and French). His example was comparing vocabularies for the beautiful, poetical insect Papilionoidea, better known in English as the butterfly; in French as le papillon; in Spanish as la mariposa; and in German...der Schmetterling. Yes, perhaps not so lyrical. But I'll quickly summarize our fall activities, as we've been fluttering around like busy social Schmetterlinge.

Regarding our all-time favorite topic, i.e., dinner, we hosted an informal Mexican food fiesta--featuring tacos al pastor--for about a dozen attendees and more recently last weekend a smaller gathering for tortas ahogadas. Our several Mexican friends and acquaintances here appreciate authentic Mexican food in Europe almost as much as Steph and me. We also hosted a French/English couple for a French dinner, complete with champagne, poached salmon and a homemade fig tart (pictured here) which, if I may say with all modesty, may have incited duels between my old coworkers/ pastry admirers in Chicago. We've also attended several small dinner parties, including one sushi-making session (our first time rolling sushi, it takes some practice) with several German friends.

We took mightily to bike-riding this summer and fall, given Switzerland's almost limitless trail options that never disappoint. We've ridden around scenic lakes, to preserved medieval villages (always with a sausage and beer stop) and I, the flatlander--with a particulary adept Dutch friend--have climbed hills that feel like mountains. The hills have become a masochistic addiction, as I took to routinely conquering one near home as training for a fall triathlon that depressingly never happened due to terrible cold, windy, rainy weather on event day. Oh well, I suppose I kept in shape.

Our cadre of ex-pat acquaintances here keeps growing slowly, mostly through friends-of-friends, and stands at maybe two dozen. The bad news is that given the group's average age of perhaps 30, I'm the old man. It's only bad because these people party in Zürich with the gusto I had at age 30 in Chicago, a pace that's significantly harder to maintain at a ripe 37. Not having a job has been my critical recovery source. We've hit several birthday parties, one including bowling (can you believe it?) in which the New World participants significantly outscored the Old World participants (like night and day); I keep blowing through my Thursday night curfews, somehow ending up at bankers' nightclubs (everyone making the scene in suits, lamenting the markets) or late-night divorcée piano lounges.

Never fear, Hobbes is still doing well, swimming weekly and still intent on exploring nearly every inch of Zürich. Steph and I also hit Paris again in late August, and then enjoyed two sets of visiting friends in September including a spectacular visit to Oktoberfest in Munich. Our weather was crummy all September, unseasonably cold and rainy, but picked back up in October. More entries and other news coming up! Pictures here: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=2hd8fyj.4j3qg6sb&x=0&y=-n7q75z&localeid=en_US