I landed in Portland exactly one week ago. I thought I was coming home, but during the course of the week I had to admit to myself that the journey has not yet ended. I am in Portland, staying at Marianne's house until my own house will be fixed up and I don't anticipate moving in before the holidays. This means that it will be many more weeks before I am in my own home and can really resume my life - whatever that will be.
New York was another good transition between Switzerland and the permanent return to Portland. Unfortunately I didn't get to spend much time with Eric, as he now has a full time job. Still, we had evenings, and, sweet and kind as ever, he accompanied me to the subway to JFK. I used my time in New York to start organizing my Portland life. Got a prepaid cell phone, which gives me a reprieve on deciding on a cell phone plan. Spent hours surfing the web looking at cars, subscribed to Consumer Report to ensure that whichever car I am getting will not be a lemon - and I narrowed it down to 3 cars, which I test drove this week. Today I decided which car I am going to get and now I am working on getting the best possible deal and finding the cash to pay for it - for, because I don't have a job, I don't qualify for any kind of financing. Once I have wheels my life will become much simpler and I'll be much more autonomous. For now I have been depending on my friends and on my feet for transportation.
I landed in Portland on Friday at 6pm, and on Saturday morning at 10am I met with a contractor at my house. The house is in reasonably good order, except for the yard, which has reverted to a jungle. The bids for the various jobs are coming in, and by next week I should have an idea of how much fixing up the house will cost me. I feel we are off to a good start. I like my contractor, a woman who actually is listening to what I want. It also is wonderful to have a general contractor, as opposed to dealing myself with all the various tradesmen, as I had to do with my 2004 remodel.
So, on one hand I am feeling at home, and on the other, I am living out of a suitcase. My belongings are right here, but still not accessible. I miss warm sweaters, the muffin tins to bake hiking snacks, the gardening tools. Though I will retrieve these as soon as I have a car. I intend to spend as much time as possible at my house, starting to prune, and trim and yank... I have started to change my address back to my own house - an important step to release my friend Ernst from his mailbox responsibilities and to reclaim my independence on that front as well.
This week also has been very busy on the social side. Marianne is now partly retired, and we already have spent more time together than during my previous month-long stays. We did a great hike, leaving on foot from her house, up and down the forested hills to the north - in the rain. Indeed, this is full immersion into the Pacific-Northwest. The rains started the day after my arrival and I am yet to see the sun. On the plus side, I already witnessed spawning salmon, a sight which always fills me with awe.
On Monday I returned to my aquarobics class, receiving a warm welcome from the pool ladies. On Tuesday I went to yoga, to the studio, the teacher and the yogini I have been with for over 10 years. It was good both for my body and my soul, and Hannah's soup after the class was soothing on all levels. Wednesday night was the monthly meeting of the High Desert Committee. Borden took me car shopping, allowed me to treat him for dinner, took me to the meeting and drove me back home afterwords. I don't know how much time I'll be able to spend volunteering since I don't yet know what my life will entail, but I like being pulled back into the community and the opportunity to once again become an active member. Last night was Italian book club, a group as vibrant as ever. The reading was preceded by a soup as heart-warming as the hugs.
Since I am impatient to move back into my house and lead an independent life, but since it won't happen for quite a while, I decided that the best way to deal with it was to consider the next few weeks as part of the adventure, part of the journey, part of the Lemonade Project. I thought that this post would be the last one, but in view of the above, there will be one more when I move back into the house. I will not bore you with the ups and downs of my re-entry into my Portland life in this blog. However, I am looking forward to resuming a personal relationship with my readers in the Portland area, and a personal email correspondence with my European friends. I have some 500 unanswered emails in my inbox, accumulated during the many weeks during which I did not have regular access to the internet. Please be patient - I will get to it in time.
Thank you to my friends who have made this week bearable: Marianne for the generous sharing of the house, Rachel, Borden and Jon for the help with car buying; Hannah and Cathey for soups, Jody, Ric and Sandy for rides. Thank you Martin for the invitation to dinner and thank you all for the welcome home messages and calls. You are the ones who make it worthwhile coming back. I am looking forward to living once again in your community.
Friday, October 7, 2011
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Time Out
I am writing at the dining room table at Eric and Pam's apartment in New York City. The room is dark because Pam is still sleeping and the air conditioner hums like the ship's engines. I am holding on tight, as the whole room is rocking and spinning. During the last few days at sea I sometimes would forget that I am on a ship, as my brain and body had adjusted to the continuous movement. Now, on land, I am feeling worse than on the roughest days, my whole system adjusting to the stillness of my new environment.
I boarded the ship at noon in Southampton on September 20th, and I disembarked at 11am, yesterday, September 27. This passage, in all the senses of the word, was one of the best things I ever did for myself. On a superficial level, of course, I had the time of my life. I had been dreaming of crossing the Atlantic on an ocean liner since I was a child, and I now was living the romance and the glamor of sailing on a beautiful ship. However, my soul and my heart were cruising on an equally powerful journey. Over the last 35 years I must have flown across the Atlantic on average once a year. I have much complained about the long journey, and I have boasted about the pleasing effects of happy pills, which make the trip feel short and painless. During all those years I had no idea of how big the Atlantic Ocean really is. The journey lasted 6 days and 7 nights.
A ship like the Queen Mary 2 offers innumerable distractions and opportunities to kill time. I hardly had time to partake in any of them. For me it was a once in a lifetime opportunity to do nothing, or to have nothing that needed to be done. Every night I would circle on the daily program various enriching activities. In the end I spent much time just being, staring out at the water, processing this new turn in my life, trying to let Europe, Zuoz, the bakery and my aunt go, trying not to worry about my new life.
Out of over 2,000 passengers, we were just about 100 single travelers - meaning it was impossible to spot them between the 13 decks and some 1,000 feet in length. I had boarded with no expectations of finding a buddy. All I was hoping for was a daily yoga class, and interesting companions at the dinner table. I ended up taking 2 yoga classes, one with each of the 2 instructors. They were ok, it felt good to stretch and move, but they were expensive (as almost everything on board) and of course could not be compared to the quality of Jim's classes. I can't wait to return to my Portland yoga studio! The dinner table, however, was a total success. I was seated at a round table (one of the few in the dining room) with 8 other Swiss, 4 German speaking, 4 French speaking, but all more or less bilingual. One of the "couples" were two men, members of what should have been a group of 6 friends traveling together. Dinners were fun and lively, with the service of the most delightful waiter who had to kick us out each night long after all the other tables were empty to make room for the 2nd dinner service. I would periodically run into one or the other of these couples during the day, have breakfast with these, a cup of coffee with those, go on a "date" to the planetarium , or to the nightly show, or for drinks after the show. It was perfect, as I never felt lonely, but had plenty time for myself alone nevertheless. My table companions were well-traveled, like me younger than the average passengers on the ship, down to earth and playing the glitz game with grace and humor.
The fellow passengers were indeed predominantly retired people, many quite old, and therefore the pace on the ship was very slow, as many had problems walking, all the more so on a rolling ship. Many times I had to slow down my brisk natural pace to wait for a widening in the hallway or the deck to be able to pass an elderly couple. It was a healthy exercise for me: whatever my impatience and my haste, we were all going to get to New York at the same time. So I have promised myself that I will endeavor to keep this feeling on land. I will die when my time comes, no matter how frantically I rush through life. I might as well slow down and enjoy the ride - at least until I find the proverbial job that will put me back into the rat race.
Eric picked me up at the Brooklyn Cruise Terminal. It was wonderful seeing him, hugging him, giving him a big kiss. What better welcome back to America!
Eric already tinkered with my computer, and I am happy to post a few pictures of this unforgettable journey.
Pictures:
I boarded the ship at noon in Southampton on September 20th, and I disembarked at 11am, yesterday, September 27. This passage, in all the senses of the word, was one of the best things I ever did for myself. On a superficial level, of course, I had the time of my life. I had been dreaming of crossing the Atlantic on an ocean liner since I was a child, and I now was living the romance and the glamor of sailing on a beautiful ship. However, my soul and my heart were cruising on an equally powerful journey. Over the last 35 years I must have flown across the Atlantic on average once a year. I have much complained about the long journey, and I have boasted about the pleasing effects of happy pills, which make the trip feel short and painless. During all those years I had no idea of how big the Atlantic Ocean really is. The journey lasted 6 days and 7 nights.
A ship like the Queen Mary 2 offers innumerable distractions and opportunities to kill time. I hardly had time to partake in any of them. For me it was a once in a lifetime opportunity to do nothing, or to have nothing that needed to be done. Every night I would circle on the daily program various enriching activities. In the end I spent much time just being, staring out at the water, processing this new turn in my life, trying to let Europe, Zuoz, the bakery and my aunt go, trying not to worry about my new life.
Out of over 2,000 passengers, we were just about 100 single travelers - meaning it was impossible to spot them between the 13 decks and some 1,000 feet in length. I had boarded with no expectations of finding a buddy. All I was hoping for was a daily yoga class, and interesting companions at the dinner table. I ended up taking 2 yoga classes, one with each of the 2 instructors. They were ok, it felt good to stretch and move, but they were expensive (as almost everything on board) and of course could not be compared to the quality of Jim's classes. I can't wait to return to my Portland yoga studio! The dinner table, however, was a total success. I was seated at a round table (one of the few in the dining room) with 8 other Swiss, 4 German speaking, 4 French speaking, but all more or less bilingual. One of the "couples" were two men, members of what should have been a group of 6 friends traveling together. Dinners were fun and lively, with the service of the most delightful waiter who had to kick us out each night long after all the other tables were empty to make room for the 2nd dinner service. I would periodically run into one or the other of these couples during the day, have breakfast with these, a cup of coffee with those, go on a "date" to the planetarium , or to the nightly show, or for drinks after the show. It was perfect, as I never felt lonely, but had plenty time for myself alone nevertheless. My table companions were well-traveled, like me younger than the average passengers on the ship, down to earth and playing the glitz game with grace and humor.
The fellow passengers were indeed predominantly retired people, many quite old, and therefore the pace on the ship was very slow, as many had problems walking, all the more so on a rolling ship. Many times I had to slow down my brisk natural pace to wait for a widening in the hallway or the deck to be able to pass an elderly couple. It was a healthy exercise for me: whatever my impatience and my haste, we were all going to get to New York at the same time. So I have promised myself that I will endeavor to keep this feeling on land. I will die when my time comes, no matter how frantically I rush through life. I might as well slow down and enjoy the ride - at least until I find the proverbial job that will put me back into the rat race.
Eric picked me up at the Brooklyn Cruise Terminal. It was wonderful seeing him, hugging him, giving him a big kiss. What better welcome back to America!
Eric already tinkered with my computer, and I am happy to post a few pictures of this unforgettable journey.
Pictures:
Is she gorgeous or what?
The Grand Foyer. This is where one enters the ship, the first impression of the ship. It is in all the senses of the word, out of this world, a microcosm of wealth, civility, courtesy, peace and quiet.
Leaving Southampton. The orchestra on deck 6 is playing New York, among many other tunes to set the right mood
Glamor Irene on her last night on the ship. Dress code was casual elegant. I dressed early and treated myself to a maitai in the piano bar, all by myself, listening to the music and staring at the water.
Monday, September 12, 2011
My ship is coming
I returned from St. Gallen on Saturday night. Yesterday I rested, today I dealt with various personal business, paying bills, picking up the ticket for the trip on the Queen Mary, stocking up on chocolates; tomorrow it's the last trip to St. Gallen to say goodbye to my aunt.
Fortunately one doesn't have to do too often in a lifetime what I went through last week. Having moved my father to a nursing home, and later having watched him die, and now having moved my aunt, I am coming to the conclusion that it's easier to be watching over a dying elderly loved one. The physical work of sorting, packing, moving, carrying, all the items covered with dust accumulated over weeks, and sometimes over decades, the worrying about the physical and emotional well being of the loved one being uprooted and thrown into new surroundings and a new life over which she doesn't have much control, the grieving for the loved one who is no longer the person one was used to, and finally, the grieving for the loss of the last bit of childhood, all the memories dug up in the cleaning out of the apartment... thank God one doesn't have to go through this too often because it's unbearable. I have now cleaned out 4 homes in less than 3 years, two within 2 months. It's too many in too short a time. I trust that I'll never have to do it again.
It all went as well as possible. The retirement home is beautiful, clean, full of light. My aunt's room is big, bright, with just about the same beautiful view as she had from her home. It's large enough to fit all the furniture she was hoping to bring along, as well as her favorite art. The staff is kind, patient and understanding. Still, despite the fact that she understands the impossibility of her now living alone at home, and despite the fact that she wanted to come here, she also knows that this now is her universe until she dies. She knows all she has lost, first of all her independence, the ability to come and go as she pleases. Also very hard on me is the fact that I now have been visiting her once a month for almost two years, cooking for her, shopping for her, looking after her, making her laugh, and I feel like I am abandoning her by returning to my own life. She has become emotionally dependent on me, and I am feeling terrible leaving her. Yet, I must live my own life, whatever it will be. I am dreading tomorrow, I will need all the strength and courage I can muster.
The following 2 days will be spent sorting my own belongings and preparing for shipping everything but the content of one suitcase - which content will have to suffice until the shipment arrives, probably sometime in November. A couple of dinner dates with friends, and then it's my last weekend in Switzerland. The plans are still hazy, as I am hoping to spend it with my sisters, but their own plans are still fluid. Monday I will travel to Geneva for my last night in Switzerland, on Tuesday I'll travel to London to board the ship. Returning by boat is the best decision I have made: for one week I won't have either email or a phone, nobody can find me and upset the peace and quiet I will seek during the journey. I can truly transition from my Swiss life to whatever is expecting me in the United States.
Today I picked up my ticket and finally got the entertainment program of the trip. There'll be a masquerade - and let me tell you that 6 days before sailing my mind is focused on other issues than costumes and masks and other such frivolities!
Once again, thank you for your supportive emails and comments. My computer time is very limited and I can respond only to the most urgent messages. Writing a page for my blog is a rare treat - thank you Carole for lending me your computer!
Fortunately one doesn't have to do too often in a lifetime what I went through last week. Having moved my father to a nursing home, and later having watched him die, and now having moved my aunt, I am coming to the conclusion that it's easier to be watching over a dying elderly loved one. The physical work of sorting, packing, moving, carrying, all the items covered with dust accumulated over weeks, and sometimes over decades, the worrying about the physical and emotional well being of the loved one being uprooted and thrown into new surroundings and a new life over which she doesn't have much control, the grieving for the loved one who is no longer the person one was used to, and finally, the grieving for the loss of the last bit of childhood, all the memories dug up in the cleaning out of the apartment... thank God one doesn't have to go through this too often because it's unbearable. I have now cleaned out 4 homes in less than 3 years, two within 2 months. It's too many in too short a time. I trust that I'll never have to do it again.
It all went as well as possible. The retirement home is beautiful, clean, full of light. My aunt's room is big, bright, with just about the same beautiful view as she had from her home. It's large enough to fit all the furniture she was hoping to bring along, as well as her favorite art. The staff is kind, patient and understanding. Still, despite the fact that she understands the impossibility of her now living alone at home, and despite the fact that she wanted to come here, she also knows that this now is her universe until she dies. She knows all she has lost, first of all her independence, the ability to come and go as she pleases. Also very hard on me is the fact that I now have been visiting her once a month for almost two years, cooking for her, shopping for her, looking after her, making her laugh, and I feel like I am abandoning her by returning to my own life. She has become emotionally dependent on me, and I am feeling terrible leaving her. Yet, I must live my own life, whatever it will be. I am dreading tomorrow, I will need all the strength and courage I can muster.
The following 2 days will be spent sorting my own belongings and preparing for shipping everything but the content of one suitcase - which content will have to suffice until the shipment arrives, probably sometime in November. A couple of dinner dates with friends, and then it's my last weekend in Switzerland. The plans are still hazy, as I am hoping to spend it with my sisters, but their own plans are still fluid. Monday I will travel to Geneva for my last night in Switzerland, on Tuesday I'll travel to London to board the ship. Returning by boat is the best decision I have made: for one week I won't have either email or a phone, nobody can find me and upset the peace and quiet I will seek during the journey. I can truly transition from my Swiss life to whatever is expecting me in the United States.
Today I picked up my ticket and finally got the entertainment program of the trip. There'll be a masquerade - and let me tell you that 6 days before sailing my mind is focused on other issues than costumes and masks and other such frivolities!
Once again, thank you for your supportive emails and comments. My computer time is very limited and I can respond only to the most urgent messages. Writing a page for my blog is a rare treat - thank you Carole for lending me your computer!
Monday, September 5, 2011
My Place
It's a rare quiet day. I am stocking up on strength for this week's job: tomorrow I'll travel to St. Gallen and stay there until Saturday. My aunt has miraculously recovered and is getting stronger by the day. Her mind has cleared, she is again walking and she is actively participating in her imminent move to the retirement home. She still is in the hospital, taking advantage of the good care she is getting there, the physical therapy, the well-balanced meals, the adjusted meds. Her breathing is the best it's been since I arrived in Switzerland and her anxiety level has decreased accordingly. She definitely is strong enough to avoid the nursing home and is therefore moving to the retirement home in her neighborhood where her friends and neighbors will easily be able to visit. She is actually looking forward to it. The situation couldn't be any better. I have been visiting her once a week, each time also going to her apartment to check the mail and make phone calls to deal with her impending move. I have visited the retirement home, talked to the director, seen her banking advisor. Her friends are a great support, also for me, giving me rides, inviting me for meals when I stay overnight. The moving van arrives tomorrow afternoon, on Wednesday we move her, and then my sisters and I have another 3 days to clear out her apartment. It will be hard to leave her, but right now I feel that she is doing so well that she'll live to be 100 and I am confident that I'll see her again.
Oops... got carried away... It is true that my aunt is front and fore in my mind. When I return from St. Gallen on Saturday I'll have just one more week in Switzerland and will have to deal with my own move back to the US, the sorting and shipping of my goods. I was hoping to surf the internet to find a car to purchase upon my arrival in Portland, but obviously I didn't have the means nor the time to do that and so will have to deal with it when I arrive.
The last 3 weeks have been a mixture of sad, emotional, but also warm, fun and rewarding times. My aunt's illness has been difficult for me, both from an emotional and a logistical point of view. My body paid the price for the tension, and I had to add Neuchatel to the list of places in the world where I had to find a chiropractor. As always, she did her magic and I am now pain free. These people are the best!
Also among the best is the Aubert family with whom I am staying. They are letting me stay in a huge room where I am very comfortable. They are increasingly feeling like family. I am free to come and go as I please, there never is any pressure to stay or to go. I am welcome at the family table whenever. I am invited to go out with them, or to stay when they have guests. In addition to generous and healthy meals, they provide counseling and moral support. I am also getting to know them better. I am contributing when and where I can. Several times I acted as a patient for daughter Carole's practice for her finals for medical school. I spent a morning translating cases from her English book so that non-English speaking friends could also be mock patients. It is a pleasure to observe how well father and daughter are working together - first Jacques, the father, with his own GP practice helping her with the exercises for her finals, and now the daughter, who tomorrow night after the last exam will be legally allowed to practice medicine, helping Dad in his office while he is hobbling around on crutches after breaking a leg in a biking accident...
Unfortunately I still can't post pictures to this blog, since I cannot download them from my camera onto someone else's computer. Perhaps I'll retroactively add some pics to the posts once I am in New York. I can already see that my stay in New York will be way too short. I can't wait to be sailing past the Statue of Liberty on my majestic ocean liner, and to be greeted by Eric at the harbor!
Since a picture is worth a thousand words, and since there won't be any pictures for now, I am condemned to write. The weather has been mostly good since my last post and there have been many pleasant hours in beautiful areas in great company: Eliane took me swimming in Lake Neuchatel of which the temperature had risen to 23 C (73 F). When I was a kid we were not allowed to swim in the lake because it was too polluted. Swimming pools had been built here and there on the shore. They are now all gone, because the water, thanks to sewage treatment plants, is once more clear and absolutely safe.
Anne-Marie took me on another great hike, near Interlaken. We gained most of the elevation with a cable car, and before starting off, enjoyed a coffee in the garden of one of these mountain restaurants, with views over to the Bernese Alps, Interlaken, the lakes of Thun and Brienz... all just like on the postcard. I traveled to Basel, where I had not been since I was 16 years old. There I visited friend Denise with whom I had worked in the early 70s in Geneva. We had taken several trips together, Spain, Algeria, Greece... and now had 35 years worth of catching up to do. She showed me the old part of Basel, a very beautiful city, but we spent most of our precious time together on her deck, chatting. It is so rewarding to reconnect with friends when they have had a good life, and are well and happy. Basel is a very rich city, where several Swiss pharmaceutical companies have their headquarters, and as a consequence has a number of famous museums... none of which I had the time to visit.
Periodically I am seeing my sisters, one, or the other, or both, here in Le Landeron, or in the mountains. It is always fun and warm and I will miss them terribly when our ways will part once again. Brigitte and I finally managed to go on a good hike together, catching a nice day. There have been a number of spectacularly violent thunder storms, with dramatic drops in temperatures and fresh snow almost down to the tree line. I experienced one of these storms in the tiny chalet of friend Pierre, above Neuchatel. Thank God for stringent construction codes. Sheets of rain were blown across the porch, lightning crisscrossing the sky turned dark way before nightfall. An impressive show. The storms have ushered in fall. The forest has started to turn, the yellow jackets are out in droves. The light has a new softness - which I enjoyed all day Saturday hiking with Pierre along the Doubs, the river marking the border north of Neuchatel between Switzerland and France. Numerous herons, swans, king fishers, a peregrine falcon, fish jumping. This is the Jura, less dramatic than the Alps, but dearly loved and appreciated by us, the locals. Pasture land cut into sections by stone walls, dotted with the characteristic huge hemlocks.
Next picture: a trip to the Geneva area, a lovely day with Paul, taking the boat over to the medieval city of Yvoire on the French side, and saying goodbye. Our paths had crossed once again after meeting in Canada 35 years ago, and now life is again taking us back to our respective countries, he to Canada, I to the US. We were at opposite ends of the country and didn't see each other often, but during the difficult months when I as slaving away at the bakery, he was a skype lifeline.
Last but not least, yesterday, a rainy day with Christiane and Gilbert. Picnic on a bench a mere 5 minutes from the car just before it started to pour for good, and then the afternoon in the museum Latenium, which didn't exist when I was a kid. During the construction of the freeway they found innumerable artifacts from life along the lake dating back several thousands of years. Christiane, a retired teacher, did a great guiding job, picking out the key information, explaining...
Almost 40 years ago I left Neuchatel in search of new horizons, finding Neuchatel boring, attracted by exotic landscapes and cultures. I have never spent as much time in the Neuchatel area since I was 19, and now I am discovering that this actually is not only a very beautiful area, but also very rich in history, culture, arts, as well as in smart, educated, interesting and dedicated people helping the region flourish. I could have found right here what I went searching all over the world.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Complications
I have now been without a computer for over two weeks - hence still no pictures. I am slowly weaning myself from the internet, but it's hard to be disconnected at a time when I am rather fragile and could benefit from interactions with my friends- though the friends I do have the privilege of spending time with are going beyond the call of duty and helping me immensely with logistics, feeding me, counseling me, organizing relaxing activities. Since I am still having to rely on my friends' computers, I am definitely trying to minimize my online time, and monopolizing a computer long enough to write a page for this blog is a rare treat. Mostly I have a quick look at my email to make sure that no catastrophy has truck, and revert back to real life and real friends. I hope to bring my laptop to a IT man on Wednesday and with luck I'll be back online on a regular basis by the end of the week
It's already more than 2 weeks since Zuoz became history. After a few difficult and lonely days in the Neuchatel area I took off to the Valais, the Alps in the western part of Switzerland. Jacqueline (whom I met at the lab technician school in 1971) and her husband Andre welcomed me at their chalet in Lens, below Cran-Montana. Jacqueline prefers reading to hiking and therefore I alternated quiet times with her at the chalet with hikes with Andre between raindrops. The mediocre summer weather has not improved and it's a rare day when one can set out for a hike at high elevation with a certain degree of confidence with respect to the weather. The days in Lens were an opportunity to recenter myself and recover from the sadness of the loss of Zuoz. I didn't have to think, as Andre was mapping out the hikes and planning the menu. They took care of me, surrounding me with their support, good food and sense of humor.
With the end of Zuoz I lost my ability to plan. I am living one day at the time, and as a result I didn't even know for how long I would be gone from Neuchatel, or where exactly I would go from Lens. I was very pleased when an opportunity opened up to spend a few days with my sister Brigitte at her chalet near Villars. I was looking forward to go on a few good hikes with her and to spend quality time with her that did not involve packing up an apartment. We did have a few very relaxing days but the hikes were replaced with short walks - again because of the generally miserable weather. When we were at the end of our wits, Brigitte suggested an expedition down to the valley, to the shopping mall, to help me select a choice of clothes appropriate for the Queen Mary 2! Brigitte has great taste and a keen eye in the overwhelming selection of the shops. Since I have basically bought nothing since losing my job, I decided it was ok to splurge a bit. The summer sales are still on, so I am pleased with the end result. The spree was especially rewarding because here I actually can find clothes in the Ladies department, rather than in the kids section, like in the US.
We were driving back up the mountain, tired but pleased when the phone call came - signaling the end of my recovery time: my aunt, 93 years old had to be hospitalized.
She has no other relatives than me and my sisters, and my Australian sister and I are the closest to her. She is surrounded by a team of dedicated and reliable friends, which leads to a very confusing situation. This morning I called her rental agency to discuss the August payment, and found out that 2 of her friends had already called. My aunt doesn't have dementia, and therefore needs to make her own decisions, but because she is so weak she is having difficulties tracking things, which adds to the confusion. I visited her yesterday and the good news is that she is recovering and gaining strength. It is unlikely, however, that she will be able to return home - nor does she want to. She hopes to move into a retirement home and now the question is whether she will be able to regain enough strength to avoid the nursing home. Either way, it looks like we will clean out a 2nd apartment before I move back to the US! I was hoping to spend these last weeks in Europe visiting friends, socializing and hiking. At one point I was even planning a week long trek somewhere... but I had a premonition: I just couldn't make up my mind, couldn't decide, and in the end dropped the idea. Now I am so glad I have no set plans - other than board the ship to New York on September 20. Of course, I have taken out insurance for that trip!
Going forward I will travel to St. Gallen to see my aunt at least once a week. I pray that there will be some resolution before I have to leave. I would hate having to return to Switzerland soon after I arrive back in the US and as I am trying to rebuild my life there. But I will have no choice.
Meanwhile I am now staying with friends Anne-Marie (also from the lab technician school) and her husband Yvan. Anne-Marie is planning the meals and organizing R&R, which frees me to deal with my aunt's needs. Yesterday, after seeing her in the hospital I went to her apartment, retrieved her mail and spent most of this morning sifting through the bills, making calls to businesses and agencies about the new situation, etc.
Tomorrow Anne-Marie and I will go on a big hike in the Bernese Alps. Wednesday I move back to Le Landeron, Friday it's another trip to St. Gallen (3 hours by train, each way). Hopefully I'll soon have a working computer and can add pictures to this post. Indeed, despite the difficulties, there also are good times and they should not get lost amid the difficulties.
Thank you, Jacqueline and Andre, Brigitte, Francoise, Marlyse and Jacques, Anne-Marie and Yvan.
It's already more than 2 weeks since Zuoz became history. After a few difficult and lonely days in the Neuchatel area I took off to the Valais, the Alps in the western part of Switzerland. Jacqueline (whom I met at the lab technician school in 1971) and her husband Andre welcomed me at their chalet in Lens, below Cran-Montana. Jacqueline prefers reading to hiking and therefore I alternated quiet times with her at the chalet with hikes with Andre between raindrops. The mediocre summer weather has not improved and it's a rare day when one can set out for a hike at high elevation with a certain degree of confidence with respect to the weather. The days in Lens were an opportunity to recenter myself and recover from the sadness of the loss of Zuoz. I didn't have to think, as Andre was mapping out the hikes and planning the menu. They took care of me, surrounding me with their support, good food and sense of humor.
With the end of Zuoz I lost my ability to plan. I am living one day at the time, and as a result I didn't even know for how long I would be gone from Neuchatel, or where exactly I would go from Lens. I was very pleased when an opportunity opened up to spend a few days with my sister Brigitte at her chalet near Villars. I was looking forward to go on a few good hikes with her and to spend quality time with her that did not involve packing up an apartment. We did have a few very relaxing days but the hikes were replaced with short walks - again because of the generally miserable weather. When we were at the end of our wits, Brigitte suggested an expedition down to the valley, to the shopping mall, to help me select a choice of clothes appropriate for the Queen Mary 2! Brigitte has great taste and a keen eye in the overwhelming selection of the shops. Since I have basically bought nothing since losing my job, I decided it was ok to splurge a bit. The summer sales are still on, so I am pleased with the end result. The spree was especially rewarding because here I actually can find clothes in the Ladies department, rather than in the kids section, like in the US.
We were driving back up the mountain, tired but pleased when the phone call came - signaling the end of my recovery time: my aunt, 93 years old had to be hospitalized.
She has no other relatives than me and my sisters, and my Australian sister and I are the closest to her. She is surrounded by a team of dedicated and reliable friends, which leads to a very confusing situation. This morning I called her rental agency to discuss the August payment, and found out that 2 of her friends had already called. My aunt doesn't have dementia, and therefore needs to make her own decisions, but because she is so weak she is having difficulties tracking things, which adds to the confusion. I visited her yesterday and the good news is that she is recovering and gaining strength. It is unlikely, however, that she will be able to return home - nor does she want to. She hopes to move into a retirement home and now the question is whether she will be able to regain enough strength to avoid the nursing home. Either way, it looks like we will clean out a 2nd apartment before I move back to the US! I was hoping to spend these last weeks in Europe visiting friends, socializing and hiking. At one point I was even planning a week long trek somewhere... but I had a premonition: I just couldn't make up my mind, couldn't decide, and in the end dropped the idea. Now I am so glad I have no set plans - other than board the ship to New York on September 20. Of course, I have taken out insurance for that trip!
Going forward I will travel to St. Gallen to see my aunt at least once a week. I pray that there will be some resolution before I have to leave. I would hate having to return to Switzerland soon after I arrive back in the US and as I am trying to rebuild my life there. But I will have no choice.
Meanwhile I am now staying with friends Anne-Marie (also from the lab technician school) and her husband Yvan. Anne-Marie is planning the meals and organizing R&R, which frees me to deal with my aunt's needs. Yesterday, after seeing her in the hospital I went to her apartment, retrieved her mail and spent most of this morning sifting through the bills, making calls to businesses and agencies about the new situation, etc.
Tomorrow Anne-Marie and I will go on a big hike in the Bernese Alps. Wednesday I move back to Le Landeron, Friday it's another trip to St. Gallen (3 hours by train, each way). Hopefully I'll soon have a working computer and can add pictures to this post. Indeed, despite the difficulties, there also are good times and they should not get lost amid the difficulties.
Thank you, Jacqueline and Andre, Brigitte, Francoise, Marlyse and Jacques, Anne-Marie and Yvan.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Stranded
July 31, 2011
Whatever the official posting date will show, this is when I wrote the text below, on paper with pencil because my computer no longer works. I don't know whether I got a virus, or whether the internet at my friends' doesn't work, or whether it's a combination of both - all I know is that I have my whole life on the computer, my July bank statement, the new life insurance policy that I didn't dare to look at before, my cookbook, and none is accessible. When you'll see this post I'll probably have borrowed a computer somewhere else, because all the computers in this house seem to have the same problem.
I am staying at the house of Marlyse and Jacques, in Le Landeron, near Neuchatel. Except that they are away on vacation. I am sharing the house with daughter Carole who is cramming for her finals for Med School, and son Gauthier who just returned from the US - together we are having fun chatting about New York City. The house of my sister Francoise's in-laws (one passed away in June, the other is in a nursing home) is just a 2 minutes walk from here, but this morning she and her husband drove up to their chalet with a first load of furniture from Zuoz. It's the First of August (Swiss Independence Day) long weekend, but I am not in the mood to celebrate anything. Everybody is gone or busy with family, and after 10 days with my sisters, I am once again alone - terribly so. I know I would feel much better if my computer worked and I could watch a movie, or play with my pictures, or, heaven forbid, balance my check book.
Of course, much has happened since I wrote the last post. The good news is that I found my passport - in the drawer next to where it should have been, under some papers. What a relief - and now I have to worry much less whether the government shuts down or not. The bad news is that there definitely isn't a job for me here in Switzerland. I am therefore on track to get on the boat (literally) on September 20 and to arrive in Portland on September 30. I'll get possession of my house on October 1. I am already in touch with a contractor about fixing up the house and I hope to be settled in by Christmas.
I won't dwell on the departure from Zuoz - because I can't. When the numbness subsides the sadness and the pain are unbearable. I can't write about it because I cry too much to see. Moving day was even worse than anticipated because of a dream I had about my parents during my last night there. Dad and I were hugging each other, he was crying too, because we both knew through what difficulties we were going to have to go together, to start with Mom's death. I still feel his arms around me. The sense if loss brought by the cleaning out of the apartment and the departure from Zuoz is bottomless. By tearing my Dad's place apart, I feel that I have violated him, everything he loved and stood for.
Believe me, I am trying. Trying to be grateful for all I had, my Dad for so many years, for the many hikes with him around Zuoz, for these last 18 months in his cozy apartment, for my sisters with whom I can still share all these memories, for the friends who have invited me to stay with them over the coming weeks. I am trying to look forward rather than dwell on the past.
So, here I am, in a village near Neuchatel. I love this area, between two lakes, nestled against vineyards, at the foot of the Jura mountains. To the south it's flat and this afternoon I took a long (for my standards) bike ride to the Peninsula (Ile St. Pierre) on which 18th century write and philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau lived for a while. There too, memories of outing as a family, and now, me alone, biking with a hole in my heart. For the first time I am feeling like an outsider, I don't belong anywhere.
At least I am enjoying the sunny and warm weather down here in the lowlands. In Zuoz the weather remained cloudy, rainy, cold - to the end. My sisters and I were planning to take a day off from packing and go on a hike - it never happened because the weather just wouldn't cooperate. One afternoon we went for a walk in the St. Moritz area. We never warmed up, despite parkas on top of fleece jackets.
I do need to mention the farewell party I treated myself to. My Zuoz colleague from the bakery and 11 ladies from the gym came, all with their good energy and sense of humor. My sisters helped to carry home the many bottles and the goodies, and did a great job preparing and hosting. The evening left me with warm feelings and invitations to use guest rooms.
It's hard to really understand and accept that there is nothing left in Zuoz to go back to, that the 46 years of family history intertwined with Zuoz are irrevocably over.
(No pictures for this post, since I can't get them onto the internet from my computer - maybe later).
Whatever the official posting date will show, this is when I wrote the text below, on paper with pencil because my computer no longer works. I don't know whether I got a virus, or whether the internet at my friends' doesn't work, or whether it's a combination of both - all I know is that I have my whole life on the computer, my July bank statement, the new life insurance policy that I didn't dare to look at before, my cookbook, and none is accessible. When you'll see this post I'll probably have borrowed a computer somewhere else, because all the computers in this house seem to have the same problem.
I am staying at the house of Marlyse and Jacques, in Le Landeron, near Neuchatel. Except that they are away on vacation. I am sharing the house with daughter Carole who is cramming for her finals for Med School, and son Gauthier who just returned from the US - together we are having fun chatting about New York City. The house of my sister Francoise's in-laws (one passed away in June, the other is in a nursing home) is just a 2 minutes walk from here, but this morning she and her husband drove up to their chalet with a first load of furniture from Zuoz. It's the First of August (Swiss Independence Day) long weekend, but I am not in the mood to celebrate anything. Everybody is gone or busy with family, and after 10 days with my sisters, I am once again alone - terribly so. I know I would feel much better if my computer worked and I could watch a movie, or play with my pictures, or, heaven forbid, balance my check book.
Of course, much has happened since I wrote the last post. The good news is that I found my passport - in the drawer next to where it should have been, under some papers. What a relief - and now I have to worry much less whether the government shuts down or not. The bad news is that there definitely isn't a job for me here in Switzerland. I am therefore on track to get on the boat (literally) on September 20 and to arrive in Portland on September 30. I'll get possession of my house on October 1. I am already in touch with a contractor about fixing up the house and I hope to be settled in by Christmas.
I won't dwell on the departure from Zuoz - because I can't. When the numbness subsides the sadness and the pain are unbearable. I can't write about it because I cry too much to see. Moving day was even worse than anticipated because of a dream I had about my parents during my last night there. Dad and I were hugging each other, he was crying too, because we both knew through what difficulties we were going to have to go together, to start with Mom's death. I still feel his arms around me. The sense if loss brought by the cleaning out of the apartment and the departure from Zuoz is bottomless. By tearing my Dad's place apart, I feel that I have violated him, everything he loved and stood for.
Believe me, I am trying. Trying to be grateful for all I had, my Dad for so many years, for the many hikes with him around Zuoz, for these last 18 months in his cozy apartment, for my sisters with whom I can still share all these memories, for the friends who have invited me to stay with them over the coming weeks. I am trying to look forward rather than dwell on the past.
So, here I am, in a village near Neuchatel. I love this area, between two lakes, nestled against vineyards, at the foot of the Jura mountains. To the south it's flat and this afternoon I took a long (for my standards) bike ride to the Peninsula (Ile St. Pierre) on which 18th century write and philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau lived for a while. There too, memories of outing as a family, and now, me alone, biking with a hole in my heart. For the first time I am feeling like an outsider, I don't belong anywhere.
At least I am enjoying the sunny and warm weather down here in the lowlands. In Zuoz the weather remained cloudy, rainy, cold - to the end. My sisters and I were planning to take a day off from packing and go on a hike - it never happened because the weather just wouldn't cooperate. One afternoon we went for a walk in the St. Moritz area. We never warmed up, despite parkas on top of fleece jackets.
I do need to mention the farewell party I treated myself to. My Zuoz colleague from the bakery and 11 ladies from the gym came, all with their good energy and sense of humor. My sisters helped to carry home the many bottles and the goodies, and did a great job preparing and hosting. The evening left me with warm feelings and invitations to use guest rooms.
It's hard to really understand and accept that there is nothing left in Zuoz to go back to, that the 46 years of family history intertwined with Zuoz are irrevocably over.
(No pictures for this post, since I can't get them onto the internet from my computer - maybe later).
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Twist
My sisters have gone for a walk, primarily to get warm. The weather has been horrible for the last week, with the temperature generally hovering in the 50s. It's July - yet it hasn't been warm enough for shorts since the day I returned from the US. I feel sorry for the vacationers but I am actually glad for us, because there's no temptation to go off hiking instead of packing. I opted to stay home this afternoon, to give myself an opportunity to put up my feet - and ice the twisted ankle. Yes, I did it again. Those who have visited in the summer know about the dangerous depressions on the sides of the roads, where I have already twisted my ankle numerous times. I have been so good about avoiding those, but last Sunday, a fist-sized rock rolled under my foot, and it happened - some 1000 feet above Maloja, where I had to get to catch my bus, on a bad trail, in pouring rain. The incident confirmed my notion that it's not a good idea to go off hiking by myself on unknown and/or remote trails. This was supposed to be a quick and easy hike, from Sils Maria to Maloja, on the Via Engiadina, a trail leading through the whole valley. It's a popular trail, good on the sections I had already hiked, and I decided not to take my hiking stick. I did wear my knee brace as well as my high hiking boots - primarily to keep my feet dry in case of rain. The idea was to make it to Maloja before it started to rain, but within half an hour of getting off the bus it already started pouring. The next 90' were challenging, as the Via Engiadina was a miserable trail, rocky, steep, uneven in places. Since it was raining, in turn it was marshy, or I had to step from one semi-submerged rock to the next, or it was a trap of mud mixed up with cow pies. On one section the cows were on the trail, unwilling to move, and I had to get into the wet high grass on the steep slope... and then the stupid rock rolled under my foot!
Fortunately much of the work I had to do last week was on the phone rather than on my feet: getting bids for a new dishwasher, for cleaning the apartment after our departure, dealing with taxes, etc. etc., the phone was ringing off the hook. I did start to pack up some of my personal items. I was so careful not to buy anything... and I still have so much more than the 3 suitcases I had arrived with. Again, it being July I already packed my turtle necks, but I might have to reopen that box to retrieve some warm items.
My sisters arrived on Wednesday night and the next day we went to work, to sort out the contents of the apartment and pack them up. This morning we did the cleaning products and the Christmas decorations. Yesterday we packed up 10 boxes of books and brought them to the Salvation Army (this after the 26 boxes of books we packed up in Dad's Neuchatel apartment). I am having a difficult time going to sleep, I wake up in the middle of the night and can't go back to sleep, thinking about things, and wake up early in the morning, unable to fall asleep again. One of the major worries is that I misplaced my American passport! It's eating me up. I have never lost a passport, I am always very careful with them. I had to take it to the post office to make a photocopy to send to my travel agent - and I haven't seen it since, despite all the searching and inquiring. I don't have much hope left for finding it again and I'll probably have to travel to Bern to have a new one made. What a pain. The only silver lining is that I have plenty time - I hope! Actually, I am not surprised that I managed to lose something precious. I don't sleep well, I am upset, I am scatterbrained, often unable to focus on anything... I put it down in some odd place, or perhaps threw it out with the paper recycling... I wish I knew!
As to why I need a travel agent: I decided it was time to make another old dream come true and that I needed something to look forward to, as these are rather sad and difficult times. As a child I had been saving and studying for years a catalog from the Cunard Shipping Company, dreaming about the excitement and romance of sailing to America across the Atlantic ocean in one of these elegant liners and to glide into New York harbor, past the Statue of Liberty. My return flight ticket was acquired with miles, i.e. it didn't cost me a fortune and I don't mind losing it. I am still under the shock from that horrible flight to Portland in May... The stars were lining up... and after thinking about it for a few days I made the decision: I will grant myself both a dream and a great transition between my European life and my return to the US: on September 20 I will board the Queen Mary 2 in South Hampton and arrive in New York on September 27. Eric will be picking me up at the harbor and I'll spend a few days with him before flying home to Portland, probably on September 30 - to take possession of my house on October 1. This is the tentative closing date for the Lemonade Project!
My beloved valley. From a viewpoint near Zuoz, looking west towards St. Moritz.
Last Sunday's hike, between Sils Maria and Maloja. This is Lake Sils.
Blaunca, a hamlet on the Via Engiadina, between Sils Maria and Maloja. I love the construction technique of the stairs.
Dad loved these aluminum army water bottles. It hurts having to throw them out, but what else to do with them?
Fortunately much of the work I had to do last week was on the phone rather than on my feet: getting bids for a new dishwasher, for cleaning the apartment after our departure, dealing with taxes, etc. etc., the phone was ringing off the hook. I did start to pack up some of my personal items. I was so careful not to buy anything... and I still have so much more than the 3 suitcases I had arrived with. Again, it being July I already packed my turtle necks, but I might have to reopen that box to retrieve some warm items.
My sisters arrived on Wednesday night and the next day we went to work, to sort out the contents of the apartment and pack them up. This morning we did the cleaning products and the Christmas decorations. Yesterday we packed up 10 boxes of books and brought them to the Salvation Army (this after the 26 boxes of books we packed up in Dad's Neuchatel apartment). I am having a difficult time going to sleep, I wake up in the middle of the night and can't go back to sleep, thinking about things, and wake up early in the morning, unable to fall asleep again. One of the major worries is that I misplaced my American passport! It's eating me up. I have never lost a passport, I am always very careful with them. I had to take it to the post office to make a photocopy to send to my travel agent - and I haven't seen it since, despite all the searching and inquiring. I don't have much hope left for finding it again and I'll probably have to travel to Bern to have a new one made. What a pain. The only silver lining is that I have plenty time - I hope! Actually, I am not surprised that I managed to lose something precious. I don't sleep well, I am upset, I am scatterbrained, often unable to focus on anything... I put it down in some odd place, or perhaps threw it out with the paper recycling... I wish I knew!
As to why I need a travel agent: I decided it was time to make another old dream come true and that I needed something to look forward to, as these are rather sad and difficult times. As a child I had been saving and studying for years a catalog from the Cunard Shipping Company, dreaming about the excitement and romance of sailing to America across the Atlantic ocean in one of these elegant liners and to glide into New York harbor, past the Statue of Liberty. My return flight ticket was acquired with miles, i.e. it didn't cost me a fortune and I don't mind losing it. I am still under the shock from that horrible flight to Portland in May... The stars were lining up... and after thinking about it for a few days I made the decision: I will grant myself both a dream and a great transition between my European life and my return to the US: on September 20 I will board the Queen Mary 2 in South Hampton and arrive in New York on September 27. Eric will be picking me up at the harbor and I'll spend a few days with him before flying home to Portland, probably on September 30 - to take possession of my house on October 1. This is the tentative closing date for the Lemonade Project!
My beloved valley. From a viewpoint near Zuoz, looking west towards St. Moritz.
Last Sunday's hike, between Sils Maria and Maloja. This is Lake Sils.
Blaunca, a hamlet on the Via Engiadina, between Sils Maria and Maloja. I love the construction technique of the stairs.
Dad loved these aluminum army water bottles. It hurts having to throw them out, but what else to do with them?
Friday, July 15, 2011
Two hikes and a funeral
I have only an hour before it's time to start dinner preparations. Indeed, I am having a guest, the one and only who ever invited me over to her house. I am downright excited - and making a big deal out of it, call it a feast.
Much of my time is now taken up with the logistics of the move and the undoing of my current life. It all takes much effort - writing resignation letters by hand because I don't have a printer (health insurance, phone company, etc.), getting bids for a new dishwasher (the one I received includes only one option costing about twice as much as what I found on the internet) and for the cleaning of the apartment after our departure (when I checked with an acquaintance on what seemed to me a high bid she indeed confirmed that I was getting ripped off). So I have a long list of follow-up calls and more research to do on Monday. Monday also is the day I promised myself I'll start packing up the personal items I will no longer need: skis, snow boots, etc. Most of the time I am going through these motions in a state of numbness because it's too painful to allow myself to feel. I hate being like this, but I have to protect myself any way I can. The other day a woman at the tourist office (where I have been a regular visitor and where they know my story) asked me how the sale and move were coming along - and I had to leave because I was unable to talk, tears choking me.
I gave myself last weekend off and went on two hikes, both firsts, both very rewarding and both very therapeutic. I am hoping to do it again this weekend, although the weather forecast doesn't encourage very ambitious solo hikes. I'll have to play it by ear.
I spent the last two days in St. Gallen, where my aunt lives and where I stayed during most of my childhood vacations. A very dear family friend passed away on July 8th, and the funeral took place a couple of days ago. The funeral gave me the opportunity to visit my aunt. I had not yet seen her since my return from the US because she didn't want me to visit her. She took a clear turn for the worse since I saw her last in May. Her heart failure is making breathing very difficult and the slightest effort or upset gets her out of breath, meaning she is out of breath and unable to do anything, even talk, most of the time. She wants to be left alone, anything is too much to deal with, yet she still appreciated my cooking and sent me shopping with a long list. At the same time she says that she no longer wants overnight guests, but always wants me to stay longer. She is not only ready to enter a nursing home, she is ready to give up on everything. I am finding it very difficult to figure out how I can best help her in these circumstances.
So, as I stood by the grave of my friend Trudi, I was sobbing my heart out, knowing full well that I wasn't crying just for her. I was also crying for my father and for my mother, for all the losses in my life, for the imminent loss of Zuoz, and for the loss of another part of childhood that died with my friend. She and my father had been best friends as children, and I continued the relationship. At the same time I was also crying because I'll probably be back in this cemetery sooner than later, paying my last respects to my aunt. Although she also was very close to Trudi, she is much too frail to attend the ceremony, or to partake in the communal meal that followed.
Last night, waiting for my connecting train in Landquart, I ran into a woman I had just met the previous week, at the picnic of the Ladies' Gym. She lives in the house next to mine, yet, in the 18 months and countless events with that group, we had never met. We chit-chatted during the whole 90 minutes of train we had left. She was returning from visiting her elderly father in a nursing home in Zurich, and so many parallels were made. We parted at the mail boxes and I felt infinitely better than when I boarded the train in St. Gallen. Interestingly, as my friends Tom and Cathey pointed out, I seem so well integrated here, as I constantly run into people I know. Last Saturday, catching my bus after my long hike, I found that the driver was one of the students of the rumantsch class I had taken in the winter of 2010!
On another note: I did not get the job with the Oregon Community Foundation. On the advice of some of my readers I did send an email explaining that I was terribly nervous but would be a great employee... but it could not make up for my poor performance during the interview. I think that the only way I can get a job is by getting interview coaching. Of course I am disappointed since it would have been such a good match for me. At the same time, I am relieved that I don't have to organize a hastened return to the US together with the exit from Zuoz which is now taking all my energy. Fortunately at night I fall asleep quickly and deeply and in the morning I cannot get out of bed. I am giving myself some slack. I know that unconsciously I don't want to get up, because I don't want to face another day of dealing with the logistics of the move. So I am acknowledging it and often grant myself that extra half an hour of bliss between sleep and wakefulness.
Thank you for the notes of support you wrote as comments to the blog, or as personal emails. They do help and definitely make me feel less alone through this ordeal.
Ladies' Gym picnic - in style! The club owns a hut in the fields outside Zuoz.
Tschieva Hut, belonging to the Swiss Alpine Club. From there you climb Piz Bernina, via the famous Bianco ridge. If you look carefully (click on the picture for a full view) you can see a yellow mountain rescue helicopter hovering near the hut.
Zernez church ceiling, with a clearly Italian trend.
The hamlet of Susauna, in the valley of the same name.
Much of my time is now taken up with the logistics of the move and the undoing of my current life. It all takes much effort - writing resignation letters by hand because I don't have a printer (health insurance, phone company, etc.), getting bids for a new dishwasher (the one I received includes only one option costing about twice as much as what I found on the internet) and for the cleaning of the apartment after our departure (when I checked with an acquaintance on what seemed to me a high bid she indeed confirmed that I was getting ripped off). So I have a long list of follow-up calls and more research to do on Monday. Monday also is the day I promised myself I'll start packing up the personal items I will no longer need: skis, snow boots, etc. Most of the time I am going through these motions in a state of numbness because it's too painful to allow myself to feel. I hate being like this, but I have to protect myself any way I can. The other day a woman at the tourist office (where I have been a regular visitor and where they know my story) asked me how the sale and move were coming along - and I had to leave because I was unable to talk, tears choking me.
I gave myself last weekend off and went on two hikes, both firsts, both very rewarding and both very therapeutic. I am hoping to do it again this weekend, although the weather forecast doesn't encourage very ambitious solo hikes. I'll have to play it by ear.
I spent the last two days in St. Gallen, where my aunt lives and where I stayed during most of my childhood vacations. A very dear family friend passed away on July 8th, and the funeral took place a couple of days ago. The funeral gave me the opportunity to visit my aunt. I had not yet seen her since my return from the US because she didn't want me to visit her. She took a clear turn for the worse since I saw her last in May. Her heart failure is making breathing very difficult and the slightest effort or upset gets her out of breath, meaning she is out of breath and unable to do anything, even talk, most of the time. She wants to be left alone, anything is too much to deal with, yet she still appreciated my cooking and sent me shopping with a long list. At the same time she says that she no longer wants overnight guests, but always wants me to stay longer. She is not only ready to enter a nursing home, she is ready to give up on everything. I am finding it very difficult to figure out how I can best help her in these circumstances.
So, as I stood by the grave of my friend Trudi, I was sobbing my heart out, knowing full well that I wasn't crying just for her. I was also crying for my father and for my mother, for all the losses in my life, for the imminent loss of Zuoz, and for the loss of another part of childhood that died with my friend. She and my father had been best friends as children, and I continued the relationship. At the same time I was also crying because I'll probably be back in this cemetery sooner than later, paying my last respects to my aunt. Although she also was very close to Trudi, she is much too frail to attend the ceremony, or to partake in the communal meal that followed.
Last night, waiting for my connecting train in Landquart, I ran into a woman I had just met the previous week, at the picnic of the Ladies' Gym. She lives in the house next to mine, yet, in the 18 months and countless events with that group, we had never met. We chit-chatted during the whole 90 minutes of train we had left. She was returning from visiting her elderly father in a nursing home in Zurich, and so many parallels were made. We parted at the mail boxes and I felt infinitely better than when I boarded the train in St. Gallen. Interestingly, as my friends Tom and Cathey pointed out, I seem so well integrated here, as I constantly run into people I know. Last Saturday, catching my bus after my long hike, I found that the driver was one of the students of the rumantsch class I had taken in the winter of 2010!
On another note: I did not get the job with the Oregon Community Foundation. On the advice of some of my readers I did send an email explaining that I was terribly nervous but would be a great employee... but it could not make up for my poor performance during the interview. I think that the only way I can get a job is by getting interview coaching. Of course I am disappointed since it would have been such a good match for me. At the same time, I am relieved that I don't have to organize a hastened return to the US together with the exit from Zuoz which is now taking all my energy. Fortunately at night I fall asleep quickly and deeply and in the morning I cannot get out of bed. I am giving myself some slack. I know that unconsciously I don't want to get up, because I don't want to face another day of dealing with the logistics of the move. So I am acknowledging it and often grant myself that extra half an hour of bliss between sleep and wakefulness.
Thank you for the notes of support you wrote as comments to the blog, or as personal emails. They do help and definitely make me feel less alone through this ordeal.
Ladies' Gym picnic - in style! The club owns a hut in the fields outside Zuoz.
Tschieva Hut, belonging to the Swiss Alpine Club. From there you climb Piz Bernina, via the famous Bianco ridge. If you look carefully (click on the picture for a full view) you can see a yellow mountain rescue helicopter hovering near the hut.
Zernez church ceiling, with a clearly Italian trend.
The hamlet of Susauna, in the valley of the same name.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
The sad end of the story
When I was getting ready to leave Oregon in January 2010 many friends thought that The Lemonade Project was really exciting and seemed envious of my opportunity to move to Switzerland. I acknowledge that indeed I was very lucky to have an alternative to collecting unemployment and to be able to live out my dream of living in the Engadin for a year. It was a rich and rewarding time. It allowed me to get to better know my American friends who visited me and to get reacquainted with old Swiss friends. There were many fun moments and I don't regret my decision to come here. However, in response to my friends' enthusiasm for my plans, I would point out that despite the attractiveness of the undertaking, it was not going to end well, since the purpose of it all was to sell my father's place, to clean it out and thus undo almost 50 years of family history in the valley. I am now walking away from memories of my mother, of course of my father, of my aunt as a much younger woman, of family friends long dead, of childhood with my sisters, of my own children learning to walk and discovering their Swiss roots.
I sold my father's apartment 2 days ago, and I have started the process of yielding it to the next owner. The closing date has not yet been set, but it is likely to be on August 5th, while my sisters and I will leave it forever on July 29. I don't know where I will be going after that. I am sad beyond description and I can't wait for my sister's arrival. For now grief and sadness are my only companions. It's unbearable.
At least I am again sleeping well. I had a terrible time getting over the jet lag, despite the fact that coming just from NY it should have been relatively easy. I would fall asleep, then wake up in the middle of the night, and not be able to go back to sleep, thinking about the difficulties of the weeks ahead. Thankfully I am now so exhausted, i.e. emotionally drained, that I fall asleep instantly and deeply despite dreams that thankfully I cannot remember in the morning.
Between my return and the confirmation of the sale of the apartment I had a sweet reprieve with the visit of Tom and Cathey from Portland/Lanciano. I once again played my favorite role - guide through my beloved town and favorite landscape. It felt awkward because I was myself getting reacquainted with the summer sights, the green fields undulating under the afternoon winds, the smells of the haying, the light, the noise of the river rushing by under my window at night - while at the same time I knew that I should detach myself from it all, since I am about to leave.
Last night I had a phone interview for a position with the Oregon Community Foundation. I am perfectly qualified for the job, but I was so nervous that I once again bungled the interview, stuttering, tripping over my words, leaving sentences unfinished... I hung up devastated. I have come to the conclusion that I'll need intensive one-on-one interview coaching to ever be able to land another job. I know I have good skills, I am getting interviews, but I just cannot get a job.
Talking about jobs: as I was strolling through St. Moritz with Tom and Cathey I decided to drop in at Hanselmann's to check on my former colleagues. The one who had consistently been so mean to me was there, feigning not to see me. When she could no longer ignore me she greeted me with the remark that I put on weight! So there you have it: Irene put on weight, thanks to the great food and generous drinks of her Oregon friends. Interestingly, the scale barely registers a difference though.
I am much worried about my aunt. I have not yet been able to see her, as she says that she doesn't have the energy for a visit. I'll make another attempt tonight. She now gets easily overwhelmed and I need to respect that. On the other hand I know that my visits are stimulating her and make her feel better.
I thought I would spend the first half of July hiking all over my favorite valleys, mountains, meadows... but so far I have not managed more than short walks or bike rides - it seems that all my energy was taken up first by getting ready for the interview, and now by preparing the move. I am hoping that one of these days I'll feel like I have the situation under control and can head out for some much needed change of scenery.
Summer in the Engadin: walking through the fields towards S-chanf
I took Tom and Cathey on one of my favorite hikes to the Val Fedoz.
Cars are not allowed in lateral valleys. Here is the parking lot of the hotel/restaurant at the back of the Val Roseg.
A baleful (!) walk between Zuoz and Madulain.
I sold my father's apartment 2 days ago, and I have started the process of yielding it to the next owner. The closing date has not yet been set, but it is likely to be on August 5th, while my sisters and I will leave it forever on July 29. I don't know where I will be going after that. I am sad beyond description and I can't wait for my sister's arrival. For now grief and sadness are my only companions. It's unbearable.
At least I am again sleeping well. I had a terrible time getting over the jet lag, despite the fact that coming just from NY it should have been relatively easy. I would fall asleep, then wake up in the middle of the night, and not be able to go back to sleep, thinking about the difficulties of the weeks ahead. Thankfully I am now so exhausted, i.e. emotionally drained, that I fall asleep instantly and deeply despite dreams that thankfully I cannot remember in the morning.
Between my return and the confirmation of the sale of the apartment I had a sweet reprieve with the visit of Tom and Cathey from Portland/Lanciano. I once again played my favorite role - guide through my beloved town and favorite landscape. It felt awkward because I was myself getting reacquainted with the summer sights, the green fields undulating under the afternoon winds, the smells of the haying, the light, the noise of the river rushing by under my window at night - while at the same time I knew that I should detach myself from it all, since I am about to leave.
Last night I had a phone interview for a position with the Oregon Community Foundation. I am perfectly qualified for the job, but I was so nervous that I once again bungled the interview, stuttering, tripping over my words, leaving sentences unfinished... I hung up devastated. I have come to the conclusion that I'll need intensive one-on-one interview coaching to ever be able to land another job. I know I have good skills, I am getting interviews, but I just cannot get a job.
Talking about jobs: as I was strolling through St. Moritz with Tom and Cathey I decided to drop in at Hanselmann's to check on my former colleagues. The one who had consistently been so mean to me was there, feigning not to see me. When she could no longer ignore me she greeted me with the remark that I put on weight! So there you have it: Irene put on weight, thanks to the great food and generous drinks of her Oregon friends. Interestingly, the scale barely registers a difference though.
I am much worried about my aunt. I have not yet been able to see her, as she says that she doesn't have the energy for a visit. I'll make another attempt tonight. She now gets easily overwhelmed and I need to respect that. On the other hand I know that my visits are stimulating her and make her feel better.
I thought I would spend the first half of July hiking all over my favorite valleys, mountains, meadows... but so far I have not managed more than short walks or bike rides - it seems that all my energy was taken up first by getting ready for the interview, and now by preparing the move. I am hoping that one of these days I'll feel like I have the situation under control and can head out for some much needed change of scenery.
Summer in the Engadin: walking through the fields towards S-chanf
I took Tom and Cathey on one of my favorite hikes to the Val Fedoz.
Cars are not allowed in lateral valleys. Here is the parking lot of the hotel/restaurant at the back of the Val Roseg.
A baleful (!) walk between Zuoz and Madulain.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
From Coast to Coast
I got back to Zuoz from New York yesterday in the early afternoon. Once I cleared the hell of Newark airport the trip was easy - only 7 1/2 hours on the plane, and only 3 trains from the airport to Zuoz. The perpetual Newark zoo was exacerbated by the United/Continental merger. The reader board indicating the terminals ran out of room after Washington, i.e. my flight to Zurich didn't fit. Fortunately a pilot was riding in my section of the Air Train and told me that although my flight was a United fight, I had to check in at the Continental Terminal. However not at the Continental check-in, but in a far off section specific to United... I made my flight thanks to an attendant who let me cut most of the security line!
My brain is shrouded in the jet lag fog and I am having difficulties putting my thoughts together. Part of my head still is in the US - it truly was a wonderful trip. I got to enjoy my friends instead of worrying about my life - a great break. Also, after so much togetherness, time with family and friends, it is an adjustment to again be alone. Not for long though, as tomorrow I am expecting Cathey and Tom, whom I visited in Lanciano.
The remaining days in Portland were spent like all, seeing more friends and doing last-minute shopping. I feel bad because I didn't manage to see all the folks I would have liked to see. Please forgive me for not calling you. The only reason is that I ran out of time. Marianne and I finally spent a whole day together, just the two of us. We weeded her yard and I tried not to think about the state of my yard, just a mile from her house... Under her influence I spent too much at the Columbia Sportswear store... but it's all such cool stuff! We ended the day with a walk up to Angel's Rest in the Columbia Gorge - which entailed me trying to keep up with her - and failing to do so!
I spent a fun day with Larry. We had planned on climbing Saddle Mountain, one of my favorite hikes in the spring because of the wide variety of wildflowers, but the access road was closed. So we had to improvise and as a result I discovered some new places on the coast: Sunset Beach and Fort Clatsop where I became painfully aware of how quickly I am forgetting Oregon history. Copper River salmon, Sauvignon Blanc from friend Guy's vineyard and slides of the Owyhee capped off the day.
My stay in Oregon ended unexpectedly. I was flying to New York on a red-eye and had planned on spending my last day packing, cleaning, relaxing. However, Marianne's brother flew in from Geneva the night before for a conference but had nothing to do on Wednesday. For those who don't know Marianne's story: she grew up on my street in Neuchatel, but we met in a supermarket in Beaverton in the fall of 1986. However, I did know her younger brother Eric when we were kids. So I treated myself to a day downtown, playing tour guide, showing Eric my favorite places, from the Pearl to the Waterfront, via Powell's, of course.
New York was a delight. Perfect weather all along. Of course I was sad leaving Portland, but also so much looking forward to finally see Eric again. An added bonus was Claire's invitation to have breakfast with her. She had spent the previous week in New York and was leaving one hour after my planned arrival - and we made it. Eric and Pam were perfect hosts, tolerating the invasion of their privacy with much patience. We had fun the 3 of us together, playing frisbee in Cental Park, catching up with Eric's dance partner and roommate Kerry, playing games. Eric took responsibility for most of the meals and it was fun to see him develop his domestic side - great cooking! Because of Pam's dance commitments, Eric and I also had time for just the two of us, and made great use of it: Governor's Island, a 3-minute ferry ride from Battery Park, on an overcast Friday. There were very few people, it was a quiet and relaxed day, and we explored the island on free rental bikes! On Sunday we headed to his former neighborhood near Union Square and stumbled onto the Pride Parade. The state of New York had just enacted a gay marriage law, and the parade became a moving (in both senses of the term) celebration. On the day I flew back to Switzerland we had time for a last trip downtown to walk the High Line, a linear park on an old train track, that just got extended 3 weeks ago.
The big news is that I think I sold the apartment! I accepted an offer by email, and today I hope to meet with my realtor to sign the papers. Until then I don't dare cancel the utilities, the insurances, etc. No news on the job front. I am finding myself checking my email way too often, hoping for some progress.
Thanks:
- JoAnn for driving me to and from the pool. It was good to get some exercise to metabolize all the delicious food and libations.
- Thea: for making the best of a rainy Saturday afternoon. Too bad the hot tub wasn't an option!
- Larry: for being a patient tour guide and driver.
- Jon and Merrie: for a perfect day.
- Regna: for indulging a trip through the lingerie department and the final drop-off at the airport.
- Marianne: for making me feel at home in your house.
- Eric and Pam: for graciously sharing your new and beautiful apartment.
Pictures:
The Columbia River from Angels Rest. Portland is in the far distance.
The Statue of Liberty from Governor's Island.
Eric on the High Line. A short section has water running over the pavers. It's very refreshing to walk it barefoot.
Pride Parade.
My brain is shrouded in the jet lag fog and I am having difficulties putting my thoughts together. Part of my head still is in the US - it truly was a wonderful trip. I got to enjoy my friends instead of worrying about my life - a great break. Also, after so much togetherness, time with family and friends, it is an adjustment to again be alone. Not for long though, as tomorrow I am expecting Cathey and Tom, whom I visited in Lanciano.
The remaining days in Portland were spent like all, seeing more friends and doing last-minute shopping. I feel bad because I didn't manage to see all the folks I would have liked to see. Please forgive me for not calling you. The only reason is that I ran out of time. Marianne and I finally spent a whole day together, just the two of us. We weeded her yard and I tried not to think about the state of my yard, just a mile from her house... Under her influence I spent too much at the Columbia Sportswear store... but it's all such cool stuff! We ended the day with a walk up to Angel's Rest in the Columbia Gorge - which entailed me trying to keep up with her - and failing to do so!
I spent a fun day with Larry. We had planned on climbing Saddle Mountain, one of my favorite hikes in the spring because of the wide variety of wildflowers, but the access road was closed. So we had to improvise and as a result I discovered some new places on the coast: Sunset Beach and Fort Clatsop where I became painfully aware of how quickly I am forgetting Oregon history. Copper River salmon, Sauvignon Blanc from friend Guy's vineyard and slides of the Owyhee capped off the day.
My stay in Oregon ended unexpectedly. I was flying to New York on a red-eye and had planned on spending my last day packing, cleaning, relaxing. However, Marianne's brother flew in from Geneva the night before for a conference but had nothing to do on Wednesday. For those who don't know Marianne's story: she grew up on my street in Neuchatel, but we met in a supermarket in Beaverton in the fall of 1986. However, I did know her younger brother Eric when we were kids. So I treated myself to a day downtown, playing tour guide, showing Eric my favorite places, from the Pearl to the Waterfront, via Powell's, of course.
New York was a delight. Perfect weather all along. Of course I was sad leaving Portland, but also so much looking forward to finally see Eric again. An added bonus was Claire's invitation to have breakfast with her. She had spent the previous week in New York and was leaving one hour after my planned arrival - and we made it. Eric and Pam were perfect hosts, tolerating the invasion of their privacy with much patience. We had fun the 3 of us together, playing frisbee in Cental Park, catching up with Eric's dance partner and roommate Kerry, playing games. Eric took responsibility for most of the meals and it was fun to see him develop his domestic side - great cooking! Because of Pam's dance commitments, Eric and I also had time for just the two of us, and made great use of it: Governor's Island, a 3-minute ferry ride from Battery Park, on an overcast Friday. There were very few people, it was a quiet and relaxed day, and we explored the island on free rental bikes! On Sunday we headed to his former neighborhood near Union Square and stumbled onto the Pride Parade. The state of New York had just enacted a gay marriage law, and the parade became a moving (in both senses of the term) celebration. On the day I flew back to Switzerland we had time for a last trip downtown to walk the High Line, a linear park on an old train track, that just got extended 3 weeks ago.
The big news is that I think I sold the apartment! I accepted an offer by email, and today I hope to meet with my realtor to sign the papers. Until then I don't dare cancel the utilities, the insurances, etc. No news on the job front. I am finding myself checking my email way too often, hoping for some progress.
Thanks:
- JoAnn for driving me to and from the pool. It was good to get some exercise to metabolize all the delicious food and libations.
- Thea: for making the best of a rainy Saturday afternoon. Too bad the hot tub wasn't an option!
- Larry: for being a patient tour guide and driver.
- Jon and Merrie: for a perfect day.
- Regna: for indulging a trip through the lingerie department and the final drop-off at the airport.
- Marianne: for making me feel at home in your house.
- Eric and Pam: for graciously sharing your new and beautiful apartment.
Pictures:
The Columbia River from Angels Rest. Portland is in the far distance.
The Statue of Liberty from Governor's Island.
Eric on the High Line. A short section has water running over the pavers. It's very refreshing to walk it barefoot.
Pride Parade.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Wrapping it up
Not much quiet time to write, and I am afraid that there isn't much exciting to write about as I am now well settled into the routine of visiting . Today is one of the first nice days, and I am hoping to finally wear some of the summer clothes I brought to the US. So far I have constantly worn the one pair of jeans I took from Zuoz and Marianne's sweaters and long-sleeved t-shirts! The thermometer has rarely risen above 70 (which is 20 C for my Swiss readers).
I am spending most of my time meeting up with old friends, and catching up. The boring part is repeating my story, but then I get to hear their stories, always new and interesting. The privileged visits are those when we actually get to do something together, like a hike (Hamilton Mountain in the Columbia Gorge with Rachel), or, of course, a whole weekend in Sonoma with Claire. The many conversations also work as therapy for me. As I am telling my story over and over, it takes on a life of its own, becomes detached from me and my emotions, and this distance is allowing me 1. to see more clearly, and 2. to look at it all with interest and wonderment, rather than just freaking out at the uncertainty of my life.
On the outside not much has changed since my last post. The apartment in Switzerland still hasn't sold and we have some major decisions to make. The plan still is to clean it out next month. I still don't have any plans as to what I'll do when we are done with the job, simply because I just can't make plans. Yesterday I submitted an application for a position with the Oregon Community Foundation. I have the skills and the experience for the job and I think I have a good chance of getting it. That would mean a quick departure from Switzerland, probably as soon as early August. The Swiss job still is pending too, so staying also is a good possibility. Default, i.e. I don't find a job, still is to return to Portland on September 15th. I was not planning to look for work here during this visit, but when I saw the posting I just couldn't ignore it. It's the perfect job for me, and I am the perfect candidate for the position.
Sonoma with Claire was relaxing, low-key, perfect. Neither one of us had ever been there. We rented a car at the airport. Not having been at the wheel for over a year I let her drive while navigating us through rush-time traffic. The fact that she knows the city really well helped, except that she found out that getting around in a car is very different from walking! Once we were in more laid-back Sonoma I mustered the courage to drive, Claire navigating with her iPhone, which I would have been incapable of doing. The highlight was coming back into the city, across the Golden Gate Bridge, for once enjoying the very slow pace caused by the heavy Sunday night traffic. I discovered the existence of the Golden Gate Bridge in grade 4, and this is when I decided that one day I would travel and see the world. Despite my repeated visits to San Francisco, I still get emotional when I cross the bridge.
On the way out of the city we decided to take advantage of the fact that for once we had a car to check out something interesting on the way, and I proposed the San Pablo Bay National Wildlife Refuge, in the North Bay. DO NOT PLAN TO VISIT THIS REFUGE. It is merely a pull-out along the highway and we didn't recognize it as possibly being the Refuge as we first drove by. By the time we knew we missed it, we were not able to make a U-turn until we arrived to the next town (Vallejo), some 10 miles down the road. Along the highway, driving at 55mph with the rest of the traffic we could see egrets and pelicans from the corner of our eyes and were looking forward to checking out the wildlife viewing area which we had missed earlier. We were so disappointed: the noise from the highway prevented us from hearing any birds (there were supposed to be clapper rails), and the short trail led across a dry and garbage-strewn field. Desperate we tried to bushwhack to find water, but only got mired in mud.
We opted to explore the wine country on rented bicycles, on a relatively flat route. Despite Sonoma being just a little over one hour's drive from San Francisco, we enjoyed not being in the car. Unfortunately Claire turned out to be very allergic to some of the local grasses, and so the next day we decided to head out to Point Reyes, which I had wanted to explore for a long time. The fog cleared just as we hit the coast. We drove all the way out to the lighthouse, checked it out, and headed for Stinson Beach where we finally were able to take a walk on the beach, without Claire sneezing. I had forgotten the noise of the pounding surf and the pungent smell of the Ocean - we sat for a long time on a rock, taking it all in, watching the tide come in.
Thanks:
- Marianne: for being such an easy-going host, for chasing me up Council Crest.
- Katharine and Byron: for lunch, your flexibility and driving me all over the place.
- Kathy: for your trust and generosity in lending us your gorgeous and peaceful apartment in Sonoma
- Linda: for lunch in one of my favorite restaurants (Marco's in Multnomah Village) and the ride to the dentist.
- Beth: for rides to yoga and the tips and encouragement to really work that job application.
- Pat: for being my unconditional professional cheerleader for over 2 years. For encouraging me to see the bigger picture.
- Jody: for organizing coffee with the pool ladies and for returning from the pool to pick me up despite the fact that I didn't contact her! What did I do to deserve such loyalty and service?
- Ernst: for accepting to keep on serving as my trusted mailbox despite the repeated extensions. For the good food and wine (the noodles were just fine!).
- Claire: for a very relaxing mother/daughter weekend. I treasure every minute we get to spend together.
- Rachel: for a day amid wildflowers, for identifying them, and for the stroll in historic downtown Camas.
- Randy: for making time to catch up despite the pressures of the legislative session.
- Jill and family: for a simple and warm time all together. It felt like family. Thanks for letting me use your printer.
- Bill: for lunch and half a life time of friendship.
- Ricardo: for lunch and keeping an eye on my lawn mower!
- Ron and Ria: for keeping scores (and for the rides, the home-cooked meal, the laughs)
- last but not least: Peg, for being persistent, for keeping on trying to reach me on the phone.
Mother and daughter hiked up to a viewpoint above Sonoma.
Taking in the Pacific Ocean.
I am doing it: driving across the Golden Gate Bridge!
Mt. Adams from the Hamilton Mountain trail, in the Columbia River Gorge.
I am spending most of my time meeting up with old friends, and catching up. The boring part is repeating my story, but then I get to hear their stories, always new and interesting. The privileged visits are those when we actually get to do something together, like a hike (Hamilton Mountain in the Columbia Gorge with Rachel), or, of course, a whole weekend in Sonoma with Claire. The many conversations also work as therapy for me. As I am telling my story over and over, it takes on a life of its own, becomes detached from me and my emotions, and this distance is allowing me 1. to see more clearly, and 2. to look at it all with interest and wonderment, rather than just freaking out at the uncertainty of my life.
On the outside not much has changed since my last post. The apartment in Switzerland still hasn't sold and we have some major decisions to make. The plan still is to clean it out next month. I still don't have any plans as to what I'll do when we are done with the job, simply because I just can't make plans. Yesterday I submitted an application for a position with the Oregon Community Foundation. I have the skills and the experience for the job and I think I have a good chance of getting it. That would mean a quick departure from Switzerland, probably as soon as early August. The Swiss job still is pending too, so staying also is a good possibility. Default, i.e. I don't find a job, still is to return to Portland on September 15th. I was not planning to look for work here during this visit, but when I saw the posting I just couldn't ignore it. It's the perfect job for me, and I am the perfect candidate for the position.
Sonoma with Claire was relaxing, low-key, perfect. Neither one of us had ever been there. We rented a car at the airport. Not having been at the wheel for over a year I let her drive while navigating us through rush-time traffic. The fact that she knows the city really well helped, except that she found out that getting around in a car is very different from walking! Once we were in more laid-back Sonoma I mustered the courage to drive, Claire navigating with her iPhone, which I would have been incapable of doing. The highlight was coming back into the city, across the Golden Gate Bridge, for once enjoying the very slow pace caused by the heavy Sunday night traffic. I discovered the existence of the Golden Gate Bridge in grade 4, and this is when I decided that one day I would travel and see the world. Despite my repeated visits to San Francisco, I still get emotional when I cross the bridge.
On the way out of the city we decided to take advantage of the fact that for once we had a car to check out something interesting on the way, and I proposed the San Pablo Bay National Wildlife Refuge, in the North Bay. DO NOT PLAN TO VISIT THIS REFUGE. It is merely a pull-out along the highway and we didn't recognize it as possibly being the Refuge as we first drove by. By the time we knew we missed it, we were not able to make a U-turn until we arrived to the next town (Vallejo), some 10 miles down the road. Along the highway, driving at 55mph with the rest of the traffic we could see egrets and pelicans from the corner of our eyes and were looking forward to checking out the wildlife viewing area which we had missed earlier. We were so disappointed: the noise from the highway prevented us from hearing any birds (there were supposed to be clapper rails), and the short trail led across a dry and garbage-strewn field. Desperate we tried to bushwhack to find water, but only got mired in mud.
We opted to explore the wine country on rented bicycles, on a relatively flat route. Despite Sonoma being just a little over one hour's drive from San Francisco, we enjoyed not being in the car. Unfortunately Claire turned out to be very allergic to some of the local grasses, and so the next day we decided to head out to Point Reyes, which I had wanted to explore for a long time. The fog cleared just as we hit the coast. We drove all the way out to the lighthouse, checked it out, and headed for Stinson Beach where we finally were able to take a walk on the beach, without Claire sneezing. I had forgotten the noise of the pounding surf and the pungent smell of the Ocean - we sat for a long time on a rock, taking it all in, watching the tide come in.
Thanks:
- Marianne: for being such an easy-going host, for chasing me up Council Crest.
- Katharine and Byron: for lunch, your flexibility and driving me all over the place.
- Kathy: for your trust and generosity in lending us your gorgeous and peaceful apartment in Sonoma
- Linda: for lunch in one of my favorite restaurants (Marco's in Multnomah Village) and the ride to the dentist.
- Beth: for rides to yoga and the tips and encouragement to really work that job application.
- Pat: for being my unconditional professional cheerleader for over 2 years. For encouraging me to see the bigger picture.
- Jody: for organizing coffee with the pool ladies and for returning from the pool to pick me up despite the fact that I didn't contact her! What did I do to deserve such loyalty and service?
- Ernst: for accepting to keep on serving as my trusted mailbox despite the repeated extensions. For the good food and wine (the noodles were just fine!).
- Claire: for a very relaxing mother/daughter weekend. I treasure every minute we get to spend together.
- Rachel: for a day amid wildflowers, for identifying them, and for the stroll in historic downtown Camas.
- Randy: for making time to catch up despite the pressures of the legislative session.
- Jill and family: for a simple and warm time all together. It felt like family. Thanks for letting me use your printer.
- Bill: for lunch and half a life time of friendship.
- Ricardo: for lunch and keeping an eye on my lawn mower!
- Ron and Ria: for keeping scores (and for the rides, the home-cooked meal, the laughs)
- last but not least: Peg, for being persistent, for keeping on trying to reach me on the phone.
Mother and daughter hiked up to a viewpoint above Sonoma.
Taking in the Pacific Ocean.
I am doing it: driving across the Golden Gate Bridge!
Mt. Adams from the Hamilton Mountain trail, in the Columbia River Gorge.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Back in the USA
Just finished a great cup of coffee. I am at Marianne's, it's an unusual and quiet afternoon "at home." "Home" is a rather complex notion these days. My home is just a few blocks to the west. But no, my home is in Zuoz, except that right now it's here, at Marianne's. It actually feels very much like home. Her house is a great fit for me, right size, right feel, right amount of time of being here alone and time with her. I'd love more time with her, but we both are very busy, and I'd rather regret that we don't spend more time together than being too much on top of each other. Both of us are used to much space and independence. It's the perfect set up for me - I hope it works equally well for her.
My Portland household is in storage. I set up a new household in Zuoz. The other day I was buying some food to take on a trip. I was about to grab some nuts when I remembered that I have plenty of nuts at home... until I snapped back into reality and realized that the nuts are in Zuoz!
All my friends want to know what my plans are, when I am coming back to live here. Thanks to the warm welcome I very quickly felt reintegrated into my Portland life. People also are curious about how it feels to be back. It feels so normal, so easy, so much like my life. And then I remember that although odds are that I will return permanently mid-September, it's not a done deal and there still is a good possibility that I'll stay in Switzerland - if I find a good job. I saw my financial adviser, and he painted a rather spartan picture of a potential early retirement. So finding work still is a high priority. Between not knowing where home is, and not knowing what tomorrow will look like, despite the fact that I like planning and certainties, I am very much having to learn to live in the present. It feels frivolous and irresponsible, but the happy-go-lucky attitude certainly has its advantages - sparing me from a lot of agonizing.
What can I write about my stay in Portland so far? There isn't much to write about, since it's "just" coming home. I don't like this blog to be a boring compilation of my activities but that's what will have to do for today.
The trip over was hell, 28 hours in total. The only redeeming factor was an absolutely wonderful Swiss attendant in Chicago who went well beyond her duty in making sure I somehow got to Portland. It's terribly embarrassing having to ask friends to pick you up at the airport in the middle of the night - but Ron did so very gracefully. Despite my exhaustion I couldn't sleep between Chicago and Portland because it was so cold on the plane - at one point my teeth were chattering, despite 2 layers of fleece. Lo and behold, I came down with a cold a couple of days later.
Between the jetlag, the cold and the horrible weather my first few days here were laid back. Joe provided the perfect resting place, his cozy home at Black Butte. We birded a little, walked a little, hiked some, but spent plenty of time in front of the blazing fire, playing gin.
The mammogram was fine, always a relief, and there still is hope that the dental work will not be as extensive as I feared, although I have to go back on Tuesday and he will have to numb me up before he can figure out exactly what's going on.
My yoga group had a little party for me after the class; next week I will go for coffee with the pool ladies; I went to the Sierra Club High Desert Committee meeting to see the fellow desert rats. I am just returning from a weekend in the John Day country with some of them, staying with Anne who now lives there. We finally had a couple of sunny days and roamed around in our favorite landscape. We saw a snake, a scorpion, found a fossilized tooth. Everywhere there is flooding because of the non-stop rain over the last few months. The John Day, the Sandy, the Columbia... all the rivers are high. If only we could send some of that water to parched Switzerland!
Thank you:
- Ron, for the late night pick-up at the airport. Thank you Ria for being on stand-by.
- Marianne, for the hospitality, the coffee, the laundry facilities, etc.
- Catherine, for a gourmet lunch and for driving me around for an afternoon.
- Joe, for your kindness and offering the perfect setting for recovery.
- Dory, for a great walk along the Willamette.
- Beth, for the ride to yoga.
- Jim Gillen and the Tuesday night yoginis for the welcoming party. Namaste.
- Hannah for coffee, the ride home and letting me get caught up on your life.
- Jody, for the ride to and from the pool.
- Sandy for the cup of tea, Ken for the ride in the Miata (!)
- Bill, for the Y2Y book. These pictures alone are enough to make me want to return to America!
- Rustica for taxi service and dinner.
- Velma for a great day: brunch, walk, errands.
- Martin and Laurie, for still being my family.
- Anne, for the warm hospitality in Fossil.
- Borden, Rustica and Heidi: for putting together the perfect weekend.
Pictures:
Tomb at Camp Polk Cemetery, near Sisters.
Very interesting and colorful.
On the Metolius Bridge at Camp Sherman. I am wearing Marianne's too big sweater because I didn't bring enough warm clothes.
Hiking among Painted-Hills like formations. They contain mammal fossils. Near the Twickenham bridge over the John Day River.
The bar was a great reflection of the John Wayne movie playing on the screen.
My Portland household is in storage. I set up a new household in Zuoz. The other day I was buying some food to take on a trip. I was about to grab some nuts when I remembered that I have plenty of nuts at home... until I snapped back into reality and realized that the nuts are in Zuoz!
All my friends want to know what my plans are, when I am coming back to live here. Thanks to the warm welcome I very quickly felt reintegrated into my Portland life. People also are curious about how it feels to be back. It feels so normal, so easy, so much like my life. And then I remember that although odds are that I will return permanently mid-September, it's not a done deal and there still is a good possibility that I'll stay in Switzerland - if I find a good job. I saw my financial adviser, and he painted a rather spartan picture of a potential early retirement. So finding work still is a high priority. Between not knowing where home is, and not knowing what tomorrow will look like, despite the fact that I like planning and certainties, I am very much having to learn to live in the present. It feels frivolous and irresponsible, but the happy-go-lucky attitude certainly has its advantages - sparing me from a lot of agonizing.
What can I write about my stay in Portland so far? There isn't much to write about, since it's "just" coming home. I don't like this blog to be a boring compilation of my activities but that's what will have to do for today.
The trip over was hell, 28 hours in total. The only redeeming factor was an absolutely wonderful Swiss attendant in Chicago who went well beyond her duty in making sure I somehow got to Portland. It's terribly embarrassing having to ask friends to pick you up at the airport in the middle of the night - but Ron did so very gracefully. Despite my exhaustion I couldn't sleep between Chicago and Portland because it was so cold on the plane - at one point my teeth were chattering, despite 2 layers of fleece. Lo and behold, I came down with a cold a couple of days later.
Between the jetlag, the cold and the horrible weather my first few days here were laid back. Joe provided the perfect resting place, his cozy home at Black Butte. We birded a little, walked a little, hiked some, but spent plenty of time in front of the blazing fire, playing gin.
The mammogram was fine, always a relief, and there still is hope that the dental work will not be as extensive as I feared, although I have to go back on Tuesday and he will have to numb me up before he can figure out exactly what's going on.
My yoga group had a little party for me after the class; next week I will go for coffee with the pool ladies; I went to the Sierra Club High Desert Committee meeting to see the fellow desert rats. I am just returning from a weekend in the John Day country with some of them, staying with Anne who now lives there. We finally had a couple of sunny days and roamed around in our favorite landscape. We saw a snake, a scorpion, found a fossilized tooth. Everywhere there is flooding because of the non-stop rain over the last few months. The John Day, the Sandy, the Columbia... all the rivers are high. If only we could send some of that water to parched Switzerland!
Thank you:
- Ron, for the late night pick-up at the airport. Thank you Ria for being on stand-by.
- Marianne, for the hospitality, the coffee, the laundry facilities, etc.
- Catherine, for a gourmet lunch and for driving me around for an afternoon.
- Joe, for your kindness and offering the perfect setting for recovery.
- Dory, for a great walk along the Willamette.
- Beth, for the ride to yoga.
- Jim Gillen and the Tuesday night yoginis for the welcoming party. Namaste.
- Hannah for coffee, the ride home and letting me get caught up on your life.
- Jody, for the ride to and from the pool.
- Sandy for the cup of tea, Ken for the ride in the Miata (!)
- Bill, for the Y2Y book. These pictures alone are enough to make me want to return to America!
- Rustica for taxi service and dinner.
- Velma for a great day: brunch, walk, errands.
- Martin and Laurie, for still being my family.
- Anne, for the warm hospitality in Fossil.
- Borden, Rustica and Heidi: for putting together the perfect weekend.
Pictures:
Tomb at Camp Polk Cemetery, near Sisters.
Very interesting and colorful.
On the Metolius Bridge at Camp Sherman. I am wearing Marianne's too big sweater because I didn't bring enough warm clothes.
Hiking among Painted-Hills like formations. They contain mammal fossils. Near the Twickenham bridge over the John Day River.
The bar was a great reflection of the John Wayne movie playing on the screen.Saturday, May 21, 2011
Present perfect
This time I have a whole 4 days in between trips. Last night I returned from Italy, a grueling 15.5 hour trip from door to door, but I wanted to get home in one day - and I made it. I felt really excited when I got on the bus to travel across the San Bernadino Pass, from the Ticino to my area. It was a perfect late afternoon, and on the drive we were treated to gorgeous light, dramatic clouds, and even alpenglow (the pink sunset color on snowfields). It very much felt like coming home. The joy of being back in the mountains was tainted with the knowledge that now my days here are counted. One of the advantages of traveling is that I am entirely focused on the present and forget about the precarious situation of my life. For all I knew I might just as well have been on a little European vacation, coming from the US... all the more so since I am "going home" to Portland this coming Wednesday. I really do feel like I am going home, and then I remember that I actually don't have a home there now, that I'll be just visiting, living off my friends' hospitality.
My trip to Italy was almost perfect. I spent the first part with Aldo and Silvia. Aldo was my first boss, from 1973 to 1975. We were doing research on diabetes at the University of Geneva. And paradoxically, the context of this visit was again diabetes. Aldo moved from research to education and the purpose of the trip was to teach diabetes patients that they can lead active lives despite their illness and how to manage their blood sugar while being physically active. We were a small group of 6 people.
We started in the city of Tivoli, a short drive to the NE of Rome and hiked in the Monti Lucretili. They are not dramatic mountains, but it was very beautiful, not at all touristy, and we hardly met other hikers. Everything was in bloom, wild roses and scotch broom - except that there it was native and not the invasive weed we know it as in Oregon. The forest floor was carpeted with cyclamen. We hiked through a grove of cork oak. The nights were spent in B&Bs, the first one being the perfect Italian experience. If anyone is interested in the real Italian deal off the tourist track, let me know, and I'll send you the information. The B&B was next to the town's castle, which actually belonged to the same owner. He gave us a tour of the castle and shared his passion for its history, the art, his efforts at restoring it. The owner's wife is an excellent cook and together they prepared and served a meal worthy of the best restaurants.
Unfortunately the 3 day trek had a tragic ending: on the trail, shortly before we got back to town Aldo's spirited little dog ate something laced with strychnine and died a horrible death a few hours later. My memories of the trip will forever be tainted by the pain of seeing this small creature suffer immensely. And I also cried for the deep sadness that Aldo and Silvia were experiencing. Our return to their home in Rome and our last night together were understandably very subdued.
The next morning I took the train to the Adriatic coast, to the town of Lanciano, to visit my Portland friends Tom and Cathey. Cathey's family is from the area and they own a small house in the old part of the city. Lanciano is in the Abruzzo region, where I had already spent a week hiking with Silvia in 2005. This was an opportunity to get to know a new part of the country. Like the Monti Lucretili, it is not at all touristy - yet very beautiful country. Lanciano is a relatively big town, a little bigger than Neuchatel, with a huge old section. It is perched on a ridge and offers great views over the countryside, all the way down to the sea and to the Majella mountains, a National Park. Tom and Cathey gave me a taste of all: tour of the old city, long walk in the country around Lanciano in between vineyards and olive groves, drive to the beach, and on the next day, an excursion to the Majella with short hikes into a couple of the impressive canyons draining the mountains. On the day I traveled to Lanciano the weather was horrible, and fresh snow was sticking half way down the mountains. Like last year in May when I traveled to Salzburg I spent a substantial part of my time in Lanciano being cold. Fortunately, because of the trek I had many warm layers with me.
I enjoyed getting to better know Cathey and Tom. Coming off the trek and being cold, I ate enormous amounts - and in addition to being great guides, they graciously kept feeding me! Thank you for your kind hospitality, including the drive to the train station at 6am!
Thank you also to Aldo and Silvia for inviting me on the trek. My heart goes out to you as you are dealing with the loss of Macchia.
Pictures:
1. Late afternoon on Pontemilvio, Rome.
2. Villa D'Este, Tivoli.
3. Antonella, Silvia and Aldo in San Polo dei Cavalieri, and Macchia. According to Aldo, she was so beautiful that on a scale from 1 to 10 she was a 12.
4. Hiking in the Majella National Park.
My trip to Italy was almost perfect. I spent the first part with Aldo and Silvia. Aldo was my first boss, from 1973 to 1975. We were doing research on diabetes at the University of Geneva. And paradoxically, the context of this visit was again diabetes. Aldo moved from research to education and the purpose of the trip was to teach diabetes patients that they can lead active lives despite their illness and how to manage their blood sugar while being physically active. We were a small group of 6 people.
We started in the city of Tivoli, a short drive to the NE of Rome and hiked in the Monti Lucretili. They are not dramatic mountains, but it was very beautiful, not at all touristy, and we hardly met other hikers. Everything was in bloom, wild roses and scotch broom - except that there it was native and not the invasive weed we know it as in Oregon. The forest floor was carpeted with cyclamen. We hiked through a grove of cork oak. The nights were spent in B&Bs, the first one being the perfect Italian experience. If anyone is interested in the real Italian deal off the tourist track, let me know, and I'll send you the information. The B&B was next to the town's castle, which actually belonged to the same owner. He gave us a tour of the castle and shared his passion for its history, the art, his efforts at restoring it. The owner's wife is an excellent cook and together they prepared and served a meal worthy of the best restaurants.
Unfortunately the 3 day trek had a tragic ending: on the trail, shortly before we got back to town Aldo's spirited little dog ate something laced with strychnine and died a horrible death a few hours later. My memories of the trip will forever be tainted by the pain of seeing this small creature suffer immensely. And I also cried for the deep sadness that Aldo and Silvia were experiencing. Our return to their home in Rome and our last night together were understandably very subdued.
The next morning I took the train to the Adriatic coast, to the town of Lanciano, to visit my Portland friends Tom and Cathey. Cathey's family is from the area and they own a small house in the old part of the city. Lanciano is in the Abruzzo region, where I had already spent a week hiking with Silvia in 2005. This was an opportunity to get to know a new part of the country. Like the Monti Lucretili, it is not at all touristy - yet very beautiful country. Lanciano is a relatively big town, a little bigger than Neuchatel, with a huge old section. It is perched on a ridge and offers great views over the countryside, all the way down to the sea and to the Majella mountains, a National Park. Tom and Cathey gave me a taste of all: tour of the old city, long walk in the country around Lanciano in between vineyards and olive groves, drive to the beach, and on the next day, an excursion to the Majella with short hikes into a couple of the impressive canyons draining the mountains. On the day I traveled to Lanciano the weather was horrible, and fresh snow was sticking half way down the mountains. Like last year in May when I traveled to Salzburg I spent a substantial part of my time in Lanciano being cold. Fortunately, because of the trek I had many warm layers with me.I enjoyed getting to better know Cathey and Tom. Coming off the trek and being cold, I ate enormous amounts - and in addition to being great guides, they graciously kept feeding me! Thank you for your kind hospitality, including the drive to the train station at 6am!
Thank you also to Aldo and Silvia for inviting me on the trek. My heart goes out to you as you are dealing with the loss of Macchia.
Pictures:
1. Late afternoon on Pontemilvio, Rome.
2. Villa D'Este, Tivoli.
3. Antonella, Silvia and Aldo in San Polo dei Cavalieri, and Macchia. According to Aldo, she was so beautiful that on a scale from 1 to 10 she was a 12.
4. Hiking in the Majella National Park.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Travelogue
I am briefly at home in Zuoz, just 36 hours in between trips, just enough time to empty the mail box, do the laundry and repack. Tomorrow, I am off to Rome to meet up with friends for a 3-day trek in the Monti Lucretili, just to the NE of Rome. Then it's off to the Adriatic coast to stay with friends from Portland. I am leaving my computer at home, so don't expect to hear from me until my return to Zuoz on May 20.
Except for the wonderful trip I took to the Ticino with my sister Brigitte. It's the southern-most part of Switzerland, a region of big deep lakes surrounded by mountains, impressive rivers, quaint villages and palm trees. Neither one of us had ever been there and we had fun exploring. On the first day we took the postal bus (these buses go all over Switzerland to any village not reachable by train) to the back of a side-valley known for its scenic hiking trail along the river: Val Verzasca. The river was wild and beautiful, but I was even more taken by the villages.
All the houses are built with granite slabs, exquisitely set in gardens of blooming wisteria and clematis. While riding up on the bus we scouted for sections of the trail that looked like interesting hiking, and we ended up walking through most of the scenic part of the valley.
On the second day we borrowed bikes from our hotel and rode them through the flat of the Maggia river delta to the town of Ascona. The Maggia is a major river... and we were shocked to find it so dry that we could have walked across in some parts. Indeed, except for that one rainy day in Neuchatel, the weather was more beautiful one day than the next. Every day I wake up to perfectly blue sky, and this with just a few exceptions since early January. I don't mean to make my American friends envious, because I know how horrible the weather has been in Oregon, and how deadly in other parts of the US. However, as nice as it is to have sunny skies everyday, it is not normal in Switzerland. I was told that in one area ducks had to be relocated. We had at least 2 forest fires, already, which are very rare in Switzerland, even in the late summer!
Ascona was a surprise. Very scenic of course, nestled in a bay, and very rich, very artsy, and obviously very gay-friendly. It was also somewhat unreal, the lowlands mirror image of St. Moritz, and I was glad we were staying in Locarno, very pretty, but a real town with real people going about their business. Of course Brigitte dragged me into shops, and I had to spend some of the money I made at the bakery. Actually it was high time to renew my clothing choices a bit. Fortunately, since I had to haul it all on and off numerous trains, I restrained myself. Plus you all know that I am not really a shopper. Still it's always fun with Brigitte.
Our hotel room had a little balcony, with a view of the lake and the Casino gardens and every night we enjoyed it with a glass of wine, relaxing, taking stock of the day and making plans for the next one.
We made the best of our stay, to the last minute. On Sunday, the day on which we traveled back to the French part of Switzerland, we got up early, to have breakfast as soon as it was served, checked out, stashed our baggage in a locker at the train station, and headed down to the port to catch the 9am boat to the Brissago Islands. (Fortunately the hotel was just a short walk both from the station and from the port). The boat schedule forced us to spend 2 hours on the islands and I was a little worried about what we were going to do during all that time, given that tourists actually have access only to one island, and that it's tiny: you can walk from one end to the other in less than 5 minutes. Except that it is a botanical garden, with a collection of tropical plants from all over the world: cacti from Mexico, Protea from South Africa, bamboo from Asia... the two hours went by very quickly. Back on the boat which docked in Locarno 10 minutes before the departure of our train. A perfect ending to a perfect trip. Traveling with my sister is so easy: we like the same activities, operate in the same way, no issues, no misunderstandings. As she says: the common upbringing, the common values.
So here I am back in Zuoz. The bad memories are already fading, and I am feeling as if I have come here on a vacation. I love breathing the crisp dry air, I love walking through the deserted village (it's in-between seasons and even the locals are now gone because the schools are out for 3 weeks!). The lowest larches have started to green, but the forest still is predominantly brown. The swallows are back though, and their calls spell summer.
Pictures:
1. Madonna del Sasso, and below, Locarno.
2. Sonogno, in the Val Verzasca
3. Ascona
4. Brigitte enjoying happy hour
My week traveling around Switzerland has been a whirlwind of fun, of warm times reconnecting with friends - and with myself too. I am finding that I am not the only one struggling. The conversations have spanned various difficult topics: the unexpected death of a sibling with which my friend did not get along and the ensuing conflicting feelings; marital problems, illness, mental illness, aging, dealing with aging relatives... As my friend Beth so wisely said many years ago: "I have given up believing that there is such a thing as normal life". It's true that it's easier to deal with the upheavals when one views life as a series of crises, with fleeting moments of happiness and calm. To protect the privacy of my friends I will not write where I have traveled over the last few days.
Except for the wonderful trip I took to the Ticino with my sister Brigitte. It's the southern-most part of Switzerland, a region of big deep lakes surrounded by mountains, impressive rivers, quaint villages and palm trees. Neither one of us had ever been there and we had fun exploring. On the first day we took the postal bus (these buses go all over Switzerland to any village not reachable by train) to the back of a side-valley known for its scenic hiking trail along the river: Val Verzasca. The river was wild and beautiful, but I was even more taken by the villages.
All the houses are built with granite slabs, exquisitely set in gardens of blooming wisteria and clematis. While riding up on the bus we scouted for sections of the trail that looked like interesting hiking, and we ended up walking through most of the scenic part of the valley.
On the second day we borrowed bikes from our hotel and rode them through the flat of the Maggia river delta to the town of Ascona. The Maggia is a major river... and we were shocked to find it so dry that we could have walked across in some parts. Indeed, except for that one rainy day in Neuchatel, the weather was more beautiful one day than the next. Every day I wake up to perfectly blue sky, and this with just a few exceptions since early January. I don't mean to make my American friends envious, because I know how horrible the weather has been in Oregon, and how deadly in other parts of the US. However, as nice as it is to have sunny skies everyday, it is not normal in Switzerland. I was told that in one area ducks had to be relocated. We had at least 2 forest fires, already, which are very rare in Switzerland, even in the late summer!
Ascona was a surprise. Very scenic of course, nestled in a bay, and very rich, very artsy, and obviously very gay-friendly. It was also somewhat unreal, the lowlands mirror image of St. Moritz, and I was glad we were staying in Locarno, very pretty, but a real town with real people going about their business. Of course Brigitte dragged me into shops, and I had to spend some of the money I made at the bakery. Actually it was high time to renew my clothing choices a bit. Fortunately, since I had to haul it all on and off numerous trains, I restrained myself. Plus you all know that I am not really a shopper. Still it's always fun with Brigitte.
Our hotel room had a little balcony, with a view of the lake and the Casino gardens and every night we enjoyed it with a glass of wine, relaxing, taking stock of the day and making plans for the next one.We made the best of our stay, to the last minute. On Sunday, the day on which we traveled back to the French part of Switzerland, we got up early, to have breakfast as soon as it was served, checked out, stashed our baggage in a locker at the train station, and headed down to the port to catch the 9am boat to the Brissago Islands. (Fortunately the hotel was just a short walk both from the station and from the port). The boat schedule forced us to spend 2 hours on the islands and I was a little worried about what we were going to do during all that time, given that tourists actually have access only to one island, and that it's tiny: you can walk from one end to the other in less than 5 minutes. Except that it is a botanical garden, with a collection of tropical plants from all over the world: cacti from Mexico, Protea from South Africa, bamboo from Asia... the two hours went by very quickly. Back on the boat which docked in Locarno 10 minutes before the departure of our train. A perfect ending to a perfect trip. Traveling with my sister is so easy: we like the same activities, operate in the same way, no issues, no misunderstandings. As she says: the common upbringing, the common values.
So here I am back in Zuoz. The bad memories are already fading, and I am feeling as if I have come here on a vacation. I love breathing the crisp dry air, I love walking through the deserted village (it's in-between seasons and even the locals are now gone because the schools are out for 3 weeks!). The lowest larches have started to green, but the forest still is predominantly brown. The swallows are back though, and their calls spell summer.
Pictures:
1. Madonna del Sasso, and below, Locarno.
2. Sonogno, in the Val Verzasca
3. Ascona
4. Brigitte enjoying happy hour
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