Shakespeare

It is the last couple of days. We have been packing, cleaning, moving furniture back to its original position and restoring the apartment to its original sparseness. The pants go tomorrow and the cleaning ladies arrive in the afternoon. I have packed four suitcases and Steve has packed three. We have left four small tubs of household things in Jed's garage. Other friends are holding the bicycle, BBQ, etc. We are two nights and two days away from our flight in Geneva.

Curious Auke & Curious Tern Listen to Grandma Read
a Curious George Story 

All I can think of is Shakespeare had it right. "Parting is such sweet sorrow." I am so ready to return to the States. I will miss the boys hugely. It has been a wonderful opportunity to really get to know them and for them us. It is a happy sad turmoil in my heart.

Getting Out, The Exit Visa

With less than three weeks left in Switzerland we decided it was time to go to the Office de Population and ask for an exit visa. We never did get an entry visa. 

We started with the Canton office in Vaud. This is the equivalent of the State government office. We had been here before several months ago.  The office hours are short with a long break at lunch so we timed our visit accordingly. At the door we took a ticket and waited. When it was our turn in the cubicle we explained that we never received a response to our appeal for an extended stay visa. We had submitted all the requested documents including a copy of our marriage license, and a copy of our lease. Now we wanted to leave and so needed an exit visa.

They explained that nothing we did mattered. Swiss law does not allow for extended stays. The only way to stay for more than 3 months is to become a "retraité" which is an option for people over 60 years who desire to make Switzerland a permanent home. This would mean paying Swiss taxes as Switzerland would be considered our primary home. This was not what we wanted to do or why we were there.

Then it was our turn to explain that we are leaving on Sept 30. Though we realized we had been here longer than possible we now needed an exit visa to leave. This they said could be done for 90 chf  and passport photos. The money we had, but the photos were at home since we did not realize we might need them. They told us to come back with the money, the photos and photo copies of our plane tickets to USA. 

Next day we returned with everything including the extra copies of the passport photos that we had made for our train passes. My photo was approved but Steve's photo was rejected as he was smiling and showing a little bit of teeth. It seems passport control does not recognize you if you are smiling. Steve was livid. It was good there was a glass wall between us and the clerk.

So we had to once again find a photo booth in the train station. This was another 8 chf. Steve took his photo looking grim and solemn. I went off to my class at the gym and Steve returned to the office for the third time in 2 days with the required copies plus 180 chf for both of us. He waited 1.5 hours and finally he received our exit visas. Hallelujah! BUT. . .

The next step was to go to the commune of Pully, our city, to notify them in writing that we are departing the country. Again we had to produce our plane tickets with our exit visas from the canton as well as  5 chf each.  The woman clerk here remembered us from the time we registered as residents of Pully and they took 234 chf from us for the privilege of living there. She rolled her eyes in disbelief that they did not give us a resident permit.

Then she surprised us with the good news. The 234 chf that we paid in April was returned to us on the spot since we never received a resident permit. So after months of waiting and jockeying with bureaucrats we are finally official to leave the country.

The Rainy Day Option

Almost every week we go on a hike to some new place we can get to by train. Occasionally it has been on the weekend with our kids. More recently we have been going by ourselves during the week. Yesterday we had two possibilities, one for a rainy day and one for sunshine. Weather dictated the rainy day option.

We took the train to the third largest city in the French part of Switzerland. La Chaux-de-Fonds may not be well known outside of Switzerland but history and culture abounds in this high altitude city. It is the birthplace of Le Corbusier and Louis Chevrolet. It is a UNESCO World Heritage site for its watchmaking town planning. It has a beautiful gem of a Beaux-Arts museum and a phenomenal Musée International d'Horolgerie. It is just North of Lac Neuchâtel in the mountains separating Switzerland from France. We visited on the last day of August and it was cold, windy and rainy. The city is known  the Swiss Siberia for getting the most amount of snowfall in the country.

Planetary Clock

La-Chaux-de-Fonds owes its structure, looks, character and existence as a town to the watchmaking industry. Originally an agricultural village, it expanded in the late 18th century due to clock and watchmaking. The long, cold winters were perfect for indoor activity. The light from a low sun in a high altitude was a natural asset. The town took a cottage industry and made it into a manufacturing giant by building factories with large windows facing south.A devastating fire in 1794 forced a thoughtful reconstruction and a city grid mindful of optimum conditions of light for factories. Today, most major Swiss watchmaking brands manufacture all or part of their models in this area.

Traditional Watchmaker's Tool Bench

The Musée International d'Horlogerie has thousands of clocks and watches on display. From the most lavish Louis XIV clock to a watch so tiny it can fit on the head of a seed pearl, to original manufacturing equipment to the benches and tools of watchmakers from past centuries. It is a concrete building of four floors built underground. We barely grazed the surface of things to see there. It is a wonderful place to spend a rainy day.

Stone Sculpture at  Musée des Beaux-Arts

Next door to the Horolgerie is the Musée des Beaux-Arts. It is an art museum with a small but excellent collection of paintings from the last three centuries including modern art. It specializes in furniture and artwork, on paper and in cloth, of the Art Nouveau period. The entrance hall walls and floors are covered with stunning art nouveau mosaics.

Mosaic at the  Musée des Beaux-Arts

Le Corbusier's Maison Blanche

Maison Blanche, open to the public, is the first house which Charles-Edouard Jeanneret, later named Le Corbusier, built as an independent architect for his parents in 1912. For a young architect of 25 it shows an astonishing command of space and light. It is the cornerstone in the genesis of modernist ideas developed by the architect and makes for a fascinating visit. There are several other homes in the area designed by Le Corbusier that can be seen from outside.


Louis Chevrolet was also born in Chaux-de-Fonds, in 1878. We all know where he went to make his fortune. (My Dad owned Chevys his whole life and I like to think he would have enjoyed the fact that I visited his birthplace.) The city is very proud of him and holds a festival in his honor every year.

Even though we managed to squeeze in a delicious lunch at a traditional boulangerie, we were exhausted by the wealth of things to see. By the time we got back to the train for the journey home we were glad to sit and enjoy looking out the window.

Building a Community

It began when Steve met Jay at the bike store. They met for a weekly bike ride and he and his girlfriend invited us to dinner at their place. We had our first friends. It was a momentous beginning and then there was a long dry spell. This month has brought great changes. We have crashed through the glass ceiling separating us from the community.

Of  course, the reason for being here has been our kids, our most important connection. They are busy at work and with the children on weekends, and though we participate with them in some fashion every week, until now there have been no peers, no colleagues, no friends of our own age.

Not speaking the dominant language has been a significant challenge to making friends. In addition,  I did not know where to go to meet people, especially English speakers. I thought it would be the gym but there people are rushing in and out. I tried the American International Women's Club. There I met some nice women and one who I felt could be a friend. Two weeks later I emailed her about dinner together with our husbands and we were invited to their place. That was a wonderful evening.

I have been reluctant to invite people to our apartment for dinner. It's not the dishes which are the remnants to two or three different sets,  or the uncomfortable dining chairs with torn upholstery, or the faux leather sofa that was worn out twenty years ago, or the cheap blue and brown plaid sofa bed in the living room, or the bare white walls, but the combination of everything that kept me from wanting to be judged by this "student" apartment. But we have now been invited to several people's homes and have been out to dinner with others. We are leaving soon and I would like to strengthen these connections.

It took many coincidences and  wanders into the greater world to make possible these fledgling friendships.  We met one couple on our walk home from Jed & Helga's house. We met one couple at the August 1 party. We met one couple from IMD, the business school at which  Steve got a work visa. I now need two hands to count the number of new people with whom we have connected.  We plan to spend our last month here returning the invitations and welcoming our new friends to our table despite surroundings.  (Full disclosure, our apartment itself is lovely, good size rooms, light and sunny, great view). This week we are looking at places to rent for next year. Life is community. Without friends we will always be visitors in Switzerland.  It is now beginning to feel more like we belong here, and there will be people for us to return to in addition to our family.

Yesterday in the locker room at the gym a woman said to me (in French) that the class we just took was difficult. I responded with a smile and a "oui".  When she left and said "bonjour" a bye bye flew out of my mouth before I had time to think about it. She picked it up immediately. She asked if I was English. We did the usual where are you from routine and it turned out that she is from Culver City, CA. Just another day in multi community Switzerland.

Swiss National Day

August 1st is Swiss National Day. It is the equivalent of the Fourth of July or Bastille Day. It is a huge holiday. All stores are closed. Everyone who isn't already on summer holidays has the day off from work. There are barbecues and picnics and fireworks displays. We were lucky enough to have snagged an invitation to an evening party.

Jed & Helga had a full day hike planned with the boys. Since we had to be home by early evening we passed on that hike. Instead we decided to do our own shorter, easier hike. We took a train to the Lac de Joux. This area is famous for fine Swiss watch manufacturing. We walked passed the Jaeger LeCoultre factory and several other trim, clean, precise looking small factory buildings. This valley became THE watch making area because of its isolation and the long, snowy, frigid winters. It gives the residents something to during their many months indoors.

Lac de Joux

Our hike was to be halfway around the lake from one village to the next. The lake is long and narrow cutting a broad, flat valley. The hills rise sharply on the north and south. We took the train to Sentier and planned to walk to the town of LePont. The first part of the hike was on boardwalk. We saw swans and flowers. It was idyllic. We passed houses with big uncultivated fields nestled against the hills. Then we were on a foot path through the woods, passing sandy beaches and clusters of vacation homes. We walked briskly for 7.25 miles in less than 3 hours. We wore ourselves out to catch the return train that runs hourly.

Homes Along the Lac

We made the tiny rural train station with barely 5 minutes to spare. We slumped on the bench on the platform next to a waiting bicyclist. Not sure of the direction from which our train would arrive, we asked the French speaking cyclist. What he told us was incorrect and when our train arrived we nearly missed it. We ran to the other side of the track and pressed the button frantically to open the train door. The door would not open. Suddenly someone whistled loudly to us. The conductor had jumped off the train to tell us we were on the wrong side of the right train. We ran the length of the train and this time the button opened the door. I cannot imagine a conductor in the US being this helpful.

Alphorn Concert

In the late afternoon there was a Swiss Alphorn concert at the church across the street. There were three older men and one young man who set up their 8 foot instruments in the courtyard of the church. (For the Jews reading this, you can see from the photo that the horns resemble a shofar on steroids.) The concert was well attended by young and old. Children sat on the ground waving Swiss flags. It is hard to imagine songs being played by these one note horns, but somehow with their cheeks puffed out and faces turned red the four managed to play a medley of songs that can only loved by the Swiss.



Our evening started out very relaxed. It was only a few steps to our neighbors house. They invited us and a dozen other neighbors to a backyard party. The "yard" was a decked area on a slope under a huge tree with a wonderful view of the Lake and a brick pizza oven. We met many of the neighbors, including a couple of retired teachers, she Swiss, he from North Carolina. Three tables were set for our dining pleasure, the homemade pizza dough was rolled into shape and we each made our own individual pizzas with the variety of toppings provided. As we finished eating the thunder began. Literally, real thunder just when the fireworks were to start. Then it began to pour. We huddled under the tree and sun umbrellas until it was obvious it was not going to stop raining soon. Then we headed for the house.

From our perch above Lake Geneva we face the Alps and France. On the Swiss side the Lake is continuous cities and towns. Montreux is the eastern most city before the Lake turns out of our sight. Then going west there is Vevey, Cully, Pully, Lausanne, Morges and Geneva. All of these places have fireworks and they are set off consecutively. It must be a grand sight from France, but even from the neighbor's windows we were able to see the fireworks from Pully and Lausanne. It was a fabulous light show, especially exciting because the fireworks would explode simultaneously with the lightening. It was as if Mother Nature had coordinated the program, holding the rain until after dinner, and sending a bolt into the mountains in perfect timing with the man-made show. It was a stunning end to a lovely day. Happy Birthday Switzerland and Reva.

Weekend in the Low Country

Things have begun to shut down for the summer holidays. Many shops are closed, the day care centers are closed, most businesses are closed and Europeans go on holiday in earnest. My class at the gym had five people on Monday, down from the usual twenty. So we finished up July with a weekend visit to the low countries and joined Jed and Helga who took the boys to visit her parents in Belgium.

Marcelle, our au pair, went home for a two week vacation. For the first week, Esther, the previous au pair, came from the Netherlands to fill in. Then there were no options but to get out of Dodge ourselves as Steve and I are not up to the task of full time day care. Helga and Esther drove the nine hour trip to Ghent with the boys on Saturday. Jed stayed at work through Tuesday evening then took a flight to Brussels on Wednesday. We flew out the next day and with coordinated precision we met up in the Vanthournout backyard on Thursday afternoon. Jed put on a splendid barbecue for dinner. It was very hot and the kids only needed a hose with running water to amuse themselves. It has been several years since we saw Arseen and Hilda so it was delightful to reconnect especially since the kids were there to translate for the older generation.

Canal in the Netherlands

Friday it was decided that we would drive to the Netherlands for lunch. Helga's family has a favorite restaurant where mussels are the specialty. I am still not used to the idea that one can drive for forty five minutes and be in a different country with, if not a totally different language, then at least a different culture. We headed for a town called Phillippe on a canal that leads to the ocean. There are many restaurants here and each one serves mussels with frites (not called French fries here). We gorged ourselves on these two delicacies and the local beer of course. After lunch we walked along the peaceful tree lined canal where Tern hitched a ride in the stroller and caught 40 winks.

Mussel Bench in Phillippe

Friday evening we watched the opening ceremonies of the Olympics in Arseen and Hilda's living room. It was a BBC broadcast and the commentators were very restrained. It was quite different from the enthusiastic American style of reporting. The show began at 10 PM and we made it until midnight to see the parade of nations up to the letter "G". We have not been able to see any more as we do not have a TV and have not found the games on the Internet. It is the first Olympics I've missed in decades.

A very pleasant part of our trip was a bed and breakfast called  't Eiernest. We stayed there before when we were in Belgium six years ago. It is run by Wim and Elke Lambrechts-DeBontridder. They had two little boys then, Jan Henrik and Zeger. Now the boys are half grown and are joined by an adorable three year old sister, Marjoke, who was never disturbed that we did not understand what she said to us. She just chattered happily even if we did not respond. All the kids are friendly, helpful and well mannered. The whole family made our stay very enjoyable. If you ever find yourself in Belgium near Ghent, look for the gorgeous, quiet village of Sint-Martens-Lartem. It is a great place for bicycling (absolutely flat) with a lovely B&B. 

Ghent City Hall
where Jed & Helga got married

Saturday three generations of Kaplan's went into Ghent to mingle with the crowds, buy supplies not easy to find in Switzerland and have lunch. We stopped in a tiny, plain cafe where the only decoration on the walls was a framed portrait of President Kennedy. I guess we have never again been as popular as we were in the sixties.

Helga and Tern playing in Ghent

Ghent is a beautiful, historic town that seems to be accommodating the 21st century very well. Saturday evening we joined up with the senior Vanthournouts at a typical Belgian restaurant. By typical I mean, a lovely white tableclothed, white beamed, whitewashed, antique low ceilinged room with fabulous food and good service. Our relaxed dinner took four hours. Luckily, Jed & Helga brought along the electronic babysitter, aka the iPad so the boys could watch Thomas the Train videos. (There might be a big space before the next text. I am having trouble with the layout.)

Jed, Arseen, Steve at Klokkeput Restaurant

Antwerp Train Station

After Sunday morning farewells, we headed to Antwerp before catching our flight back to Geneva. We happened on a many blocks long farmers. crafts, household items, outdoor market. You could buy a Vegematic here, remember those? as well as live birds and rabbits, to eat or for pets, clothing, shoes, tools, and food. We wandered into the beautiful train station and there was the Starbucks. Some things are the same no matter where you are on Earth.

Chocolate Fish on display at shop in Antwerp

Tyrolian Alpine Club

Via Ferrata was never on my bucket list, but here we were in Austria, in the Alpine village of Ellmau, where every view is an MGM backdrop of stunning mountains.

Starting Point of Hike

We drove all day to visit our dear friends Ingrid and Franz and we spent the evening after a great dinner planning the hike for the next day. It was supposed to rain in the afternoon so we decided not to go too far away and to get an early start. An easy via ferrata would be on the menu if we felt up to it. Steve had already done a very difficult one with Jed. I remember that he was partially in shock when he returned from that excursion.

Happy Hikers, Ingrid, Franz, Anita, Sreve

I was skeptical that Franz could offer us an "easy" vf due to previous hiking experience with him. I was a tiny bit more concerned when Ingrid fitted me to the harness I would wear. They had various sizes of the apparatus. I was the only one who would wear one. I sensed a lack of confidence in my surefootedness and stamina but did not object to using the harness. Suddenly the vf became the challenge. Remember, I'm the one who climbed 100' in the air on scaffolding to paint the Libby's WaterTower. I could certainly do this.

Getting in Harness

Via Ferrata means the iron route, a trail with fixed cables. It exsists to aid hikers when the mountain trail gets too narrow or disappears or you have to cross a canyon. The idea behind a vf is to allow people who are not experienced to climb mountains they wouldn't otherwise be able to climb. I learned that one must trust the integrity of the cable and the sturdiness of iron hook that attaches the cable to the rock. The correct way to do a vf is to attach your two carabiners to the cable, hold on to the cable with both hands, if you are lucky you have gloves, stretch out your arms while leaning your center section away from the mountain, press your feet against the vertical rock, don't look down, and travel carefully along sideways. When you reach a hook you unclip the carabiners, one at a time, moving each one around the hook. One carabiner is always attached to the cable for safety.

Holding on to Cable

We started out at 9am. We hiked on a steep, rocky mountain trail, arriving at the beginning of the vf section at 10:50. We climbed the vf until noon. It was easy at first, then there were the sketchier places. I followed the protocol, Franz was behind me for double protection and slowly we made our way along. On this hike there were several vf sections. There were also several iron ladders taking us up or down as spaces between boulders were too steep to climb. We crossed one ice field on which someone had laid an aluminum ladder to crawl on to get to the other side. A couple of times Franz applied his own manpower to push me up a big boulder. In the end it was exhilarating, beautiful and rewarding.

On the Mountain

At 12:15 we arrived soaked with perspiration and exhausted from the climb at the hut at which we had a typical Austrian lunch beginning with drinks. We learned the very satisfying taste of a Radler. This drink is for thirsty hikers who still need to get down the mountain. It is a one to one mixture of beer and carbonated white lemonade. Delicious. Lunch was equally satisfying beginning with Kaspressknödel, a soup with a very large cheese dumpling, and then a hearty turkey salad. Rested and sated we began the long hike down just as the clouds began to gather. We decided to take the fastest but steepest trail down since it was also the one that led to the hut that serves Kaiserschmarrn.

The Hut for Lunch

We moved along as quickly as possible under a darkening sky. The trails in both directions are made of large gravel and small and medium sized rocks and boulders. It was so slippery on the way down that there were wooden steps to hold the gravel in place. Our hiking poles saved us a few times. The final hut was in sight when it started thundering and raining. We stopped to put on our rain jackets and arrived at the "dessert" hut only slightly wet. It was jammed with hikers seeking refuge from the now pouring rain, but we managed to find seats and order Kaiserschmarrn.

Kaiserschmarrn

Here is Franz's story about the origin of the name Kaiserschmarrn. It seems the Emperor, Kaiser Franz Josef, was out in the country watching his troops on maneuvers. He got hungry and went looking for something to eat. He found a farmer's summer cottage. The farmer's wife had only flour, eggs, milk, sugar, raisins and cranberries. She made a thick pancake, turned it over, stirred it up, and served it to the delight of the Emperor. The farmer's wife thought the Emperor was crazy to love such a simple, messed up dish. That is how Kaiserschmarrn, which means the emperer's nonsense, got its name.

A View from the Top

Today was rounded out with another great dinner from Ingrid and two ibuprophen. Via Ferrata is now crossed off the bucket list but not off the radar for future. We hope to do it again next time we visit Ingrid & Franz in Ellmau.
Kathie, Harmony, and Nancy you would love this hike!

The Tyrolian Alps

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Culture and Connections

Big strides this week.
After these many months of being loners in Switzerland we seemed to have eased our way into acquaintancehood. I mentioned previously our 20 something friends. We had a lovely evening with them on Thursday at the Montreux Jazz Festival.

The Montreux festival has a main stage indoors. The tickets range from 88 chf for standing room to hundreds for a seat.The outdoor stage is free. So we missed Tony Bennett performing with his daughter and Bob Dylan among many others.


We sat outdoors on wooden risers and watched and heard a Swiss band with a Mozambique woman singer. She sang in her native language so for once we were not the only ones who didn't understand the words. It was a delicious contemporary African beat, and she told us in English that the theme of many of her songs was to gain respect for women. The area was packed with mostly but not exclusively young people.


We had such a good time that we decided to return two days later on Saturday afternoon, the last day of the festival. This time we heard the Philadelphia Jazz Orchestra. This was a large group of high school and college musicians who played all the classic jazz numbers. They were wonderful, especially the drummer and the lead trumpet. They had two women singers who were terrific. This group of young people were on a summer tour of Europe playing music in festivals in several countries. What they lacked in stage presence they made up in talent.


As at every summer festival there was everything to eat, even New York hot dogs. It was the least expensive meal we have had since arriving. I had paella and Steve had a spicy Thai curry dish. We tried Gaufre, the Swiss equivalent of a Belgian waffle. They are a bit doughier and heavier than waffles as we know them. They were sold in regular, cinnamon, Grand Marnier and chocolate flavors. A Swiss favorite. I thought it interesting when walking along the sales booths to discover that the drinking age for beer is 16 years old, for wine 18 years, and hard liquor 21 years. No one was checking age at the beer booths.


We had our first dinner party last night. Our young friends Jerome and Aline joined J & H at our house for dinner. I had to prepare some things in Jed's kitchen as my kitchen lacks the essential tools and pans. But it all worked out and since J &H speak French the evening went smoothely.
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Last weekend we were trudging our way slowly up the hill from J & H's house. We had had an exhausting day. It was just before dark and we were so tired that we were walking extra slowly. About one quarter up the hill a couple came up behind us and the monsieur offered (in English) to carry my bundles. We were taken by surprise but I said yes grateful for the help. They were going our way. Turns out they live almost directly below us.

Elizabeth and Jan, who are Swiss German, had lived in the US in Berkeley and in CO. They are very comfortable speaking English. We chatted outside for a while when we reached their street. Two days later they invited us for dinner. It was another lovely evening. It is nice to learn about other people's experiences. They are a little closer in age to us, probably from late 40s to early 50s. They love Lausanne and both travel worldwide for their work.

This week I also went to a meeting of the AIWC, American International Womens Club. It is for English speaking women of all nationalities. There are 35 nationalities represented in the Lausanne based club. Only 30% of the members are American. There were about 15 women in attendance, a small group I am told as most people are away for the summer months. I had a chance to chat with several women of varying accents. Most are in Switzerland because of the husband's work. In this small sampling of the group one woman I spoke with was from Vancouver. She came to Switzerland after college in the 60's and never returned to live again in Canada. She is a micro biologist and taught at the university here. She is now a naturalized citizen married to a Swiss man, and raised two daughters here.

Another woman whose company I enjoyed is an artist who was raised in East Africa. We talked for quite a while. It turns out her husband works for Starbucks. You might remember that Steve and I have rented a house in Portland from a man who works for Tazo Tea, owned by Starbucks. I asked and sure enough this woman knows our landlord-to-be. How could it be that I would meet a person in Switzerland who also knows the only person I know who works for Starbucks. It seems there is only one or two degrees of separation in this small world.

Which reminds me that we went to Starbucks headquarters in Lausanne last week to sign our lease. It is in a modest office building in an excellent location in the center of Lausanne. We were given a tour of the coffee tasting room. A sample of the beans for every cup of Starbucks coffee are roasted and sampled there. If the beans don't pass the test in that room they are not purchased. Tea is also tasted here. All coffee and tea sold at Starbucks world wide must be approved here in Lausanne.

Lausanne seems to have a school for every purpose. There are boarding schools, language schools, a business school that is a rival to Harvard Business, the most prestige hotel school in Europe, etc. There is also a school of ballet. The Maurice Béjart Ballet Lausanne was founded by Béjart in 1987. He had previously founded a school in Brussels as well as several other ballet schools in Europe. We attended a student exhibition of modern dance which was free to the public. The teacher was putting the young adult students through some very difficult exercises. It was beautiful to watch.

Tomorrow begins a bit of traveling. We are driving to Ellmau, Austria, near Munich, to visit friends from Berkeley days. We hope to do some hiking but so far the weather does not look promising. In any case we are looking forward to the visit. We are home for four days then flying to Gent, Belgium. J&H and boys will be there visiting Helga's parents. It will be a reunion for us as we have not seen them for several years. In mid August I am going to Birmingham, England to attend the largest quilt show in Europe. It is the equivalent of our show in Houston. I am meeting Annie Curran, Pat Owings' sister, who lives not far from there. I am very excited to see the new European trends in art quilts, and to see Annie.


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A Grandma Story

Wednesday I had the pleasure of accompanying my four year old grandson to the birthday party of a schoolmate. The kids finish school at 2 pm and the party was to begin at 3. We would have 45 minutes before we had to walk over to the house.

I was not familiar with the house but I knew the street. To increase my comfort level and be sure I got us there in time, before I picked up Tern I tried to find the exact house. I needed #16. Steve's bike store is #4 on that street so I had a starting point. Steve told me in which direction to walk from the bike shop.

Did I mention that I was born with a major flaw? I have no sense of direction. In fact, 99% of the time if I choose the way to go, it is the wrong way. I do not trust myself to get anywhere, except that I am good at reading maps which would not have helped in this situation. I hope to be one of the first people to have a compass embedded to help with this problem. But Wednesday I was on my own.

I walked a little, passing a pharmacy then coming to a bunch of nondescript apartment buildings with no numbers. So I thought perhaps I made an error and went back to the bike shop and beyond. No buildings in that directions. It was getting time to pick Tern up at school so I was about to give up when a man who looked local was passing by. Luckily he understood English. I told him I was looking for #16 on that street and he directed me back the way I went at first and assured me I would find it there.

I picked Tern up and we played in the schoolyard for a while. It was a very hot day and there was a big tree shading the area. It made for some nice one-on-one time. Then I decided we needed to get going if I was to find the party. Of course I did not tell Tern that I was almost clueless. I faked being a grandma-about-town. We continued to the street passing the bike shop and the pharmacy, tried to short cut around the shops which was a dead end, laughed that off with an oops, continued down the street, came to an alley where the nondescripts were and saw a sign with an arrow leading to #10, 12, 14, 16. Hallelujah!

As soon as we reached the correct building I found the fatal error in my plan. I had no idea what apartment Tern's friend lived in. I did not know the family name so the names on the mailboxes were no help. I did not know the Mom's name. I don't have a cell phone. There was no one to ask. I knew this was an ingenuity test.

I said to Tern (who I knew saw through me) that we were going to play a game in the dim hallway. We had to be very quiet and listen at each door. When we heard the sound of kids playing we would be at the party. We listened at the two doors on the first floor, nothing. We listened on the second floor, the first door was quiet, but I heard the right kind of sounds at the second door. I prayed I was right. I knocked and sure enough we were there. Tern happily ran off to play.

I thought I could relax now. My job was done. The 6 kids were then herded downstairs to the back garden which was on a lower level than the front door and around the back of the building. The Mom planned to be the only adult at the party. I elected to stay as I wanted to watch them play.

I explain this because the kids were playing in the yard with water toys on the grass and her son, the birthday boy, cut his foot on a blade of grass almost as soon as the party began. He was crying inconsolably and finally she had to take him upstairs for bandaging and his blankey. Meanwhile, if I had not decided to stay, there would have been no one to stay with the other 5 kids while she dealt with the crisis. This went on, as she brought only a small pitcher of water downstairs and it was a very hot day, so she had to go back upstairs a couple of times to refill the water.

I had a great time. The kids were wonderful and they got it that I did not speak their language. Tern translated when necessary. The one thing they all understood was that I could unwrap their lollipops. There were no serious casualties, and the party ended two hot, exhausting hours later.

Tern and I walked home hand in hand. He asked me if I knew the French word for crosswalk, which I did not, he told it to me, then told me that he was teaching me French and teaching his teachers English. We continued home learning vocabulary along the way.


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Visa Update

We returned to Switzerland on Wednesday afternoon. We went through our mail and were discouraged to find nothing about the visa. Thursday's mail was more exciting. There was an official letter from our town of Pully.

Okay, we thought, hold your breath, this is it. With great anticipation we read it only to find that Pully sent us a card allowing us to use the city recycle center. Nothing more. Big deal. Huge disappointment.

Friday's mail had another official looking letter. This time from the Service de la Population, Division Etrangers. Now we were really hopeful. It is a two page letter reviewing all the steps we have taken so far starting with our request of December 2011 in San Francisco to stay six months, and their denial as a tourist visa is limited to three months.

Then the letter, translated loosely by google, goes something like this:
As of April, you have taken a domicile and are living in Switzerland while seeking authorization to remain as pensioners. On this occasion you have produced diverse justifications of financial resources.

It continues:
In this connection, we inform you on the one hand a stay as a pensioner is defined in the law of 2005 as taking a permanent home in Switzerland and abandoning completely your previous home. The center of interest then is clearly placed en Suisse.
(This is not our case as we plan to return to the US.)

It continues:
On the other hand, a stay of the requirements for admission may be envisaged within the meaning of another law for our intended stay of less than a year.

Therefore, to enable us to decide in full knowledge of your case on request please send us the following documents:
Copy of your lease
New copy of our marriage certificate as the one submitted was not readable
Exact duration of your requested stay in Switzerland.
Failure to respond will mean that we cannot evaluate your case.

We have one month to reply and submit the documents which we have already submitted. We resubmit and wait. Perhaps it will take until October for them to make a decision and by then we will be ready to leave.

Today was Tern's birthday party. Despite being rained out at the park a great time was had by all seven children and seven adults in the apartment. The cake was a train cake of course. It was wonderful being here for the occasion.



Other news:
We ate the first of our balcony grown cherry tomatoes yesterday for our 45th wedding anniversary. We spent the morning at the gym working off the Irish pounds, then at the Euro version of Home Depot buying parts to make J&H a hanging pot rack. In the evening we had an unexpected visit from our old friend from Cypress Semiconductor days, Giuseppe, who was up here on business from Turino. We shared a glass of wine then went out to a Chinese restaurant with Jed & Helga joining us. It was a lovely day.


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Bogs and Brews

Clifden is a little dot of a town in Connemara. We stayed nearby, out of the town, down Sky Road at the Blue Dolphin Country House on the Altantic edge. Here it was hard to say whether there were more cows and sheep or B & B's but it could hardly be considered crowded. The land is treeless and windswept, quiet & serene.

Dolphin Beach Country House

Clodagh, our host, is one of many in her family running inns and restaurants in the area. She is gracious, lovely, and helpful. We took several walks in the neighborhood, going first down to the ocean bluff through the nearest sheep pasture, later doing the loop around Sky Road, upper and lower. The latter took us past a decommissioned coast guard building, many B&B's, and the Clifden Castle. We tried to visit the castle but the road to it was posted "private."

Connemara Coast

Clodagh explained that the castle is owned by the state but the land is owned by a farmer who does not want visitors. She did, however, explain how to see the castle bypassing the farmer by going through a cow pasture. The next day we started through the pasture until we saw a bull eyeing us suspiciously. We kept to the perimeter (barbed wire) as far as we could be away from him and his gentle female companions, and quietly, steathily we made it.

Clifden Castle

This castle was a winner. Built in 1819 by John Darcy to house his large family and "to bring civilization and culture to the wild people who lived there", the walls and decorative motifs were largely still in place. It was another beautiful wreck of a castle. The above mentioned farmer situation kept it from being a contender for us but we admired the taste and ambition of the builder.

Connemara is bog country. It contains the country's largest national park where we learned about the bogs, the history and the geology. A bog is a wetland covered by a thick mat of dead plant material. It's green with softly mounded tufts of grasses and squishy to walk on. The trees of the area were decimated by early inhabitants and then the bogs took over. Later inhabitants dug up the bogs removing the topsoil to two feet down, letting it dry out then using it as fuel and building material. At one time 80% of Connemara was bog land. Now that is down to less than 20%. The same with the forests. Both are now under state protection while there is an effort to save and replenish them.

In the Interesting Facts Category:
The twelve mountains in Connemara are called the Twelve Bens.
The two enormous maple trees in Front Square at Trinity College are from Oregon and said to be almost 200 years old.

More Interesting Town & River names:
Knock, Trim, Horseleap, the River Suck

Dublin was a long four hour ride from Connemara. We broke up the trip with a stop at an ancient archeological site, Brú Na Bóinne, a world heritage site and the largest and one of the most important prehistoric megalithic sites in Europe. It was a humbling experience to see what had been built by humans about 3500 B.C. Thesite predates the Egyptian Pyramids and was built with sophistication and a knowledge of science and astronomy, 5000 years ago!

Brú Na Bóinne with Trinity Spirals
Carved in Entrance Stone

Buried under a forest and uncovered by a farmer searching his land for large rocks, the site was well preserved. Today you are allowed to enter the underground burial tomb made of giant slabs of stone. It looks and feels like a giant beehive of huge stones. Our guide said it is the only waterproof building in Ireland. So what did those ancients know that we don't know? I think the site is a magnificent reminder that humans have always been capable of great things.

Outside Wall of Bru Na Boinne

Dublin is THE city. There are all the usual cultural sights with an emphasis on the more recent history, colonization by GB, and the push for unification and self rule. On a lighter note, the tour of the Guiness Brewery (we tipped a pint to all our friends out there) balanced well with the tour of Trinity College which was established by Elizabeth I. The Book of Kells is housed in the Trinity library, and the Long Room, the longest library room in Ireland, is still the original three story, barrel vaulted ceiling beauty. It contains over 200,000 of the oldest books in Ireland and is a copyright library so it owns and receives a copy of every book published in Ireland and England. It is a beautiful space which smells of old books and looks like a book cathedral.

Steve at Guiness

Summer came to Dublin, finally, but not until our last day in Ireland. Except for two full and two partial days of sun during our two weeks, Ireland was as rainy and cool as TSR in winter. The last day in Dublin the sun came out and the temperature rose from the low 50s to the mid 70s. Suddenly the scarves were gone, the short shorts were in fashion and the people were enjoying the lovely city park, eating at sidewalk cafes, and generally hanging out.

Food was among the many things to enjoy on the Island, with a host of great contemporary restaurants flourishing. We ate perhaps too well. We managed to stay up late enough to find our way to a great pub to enjoy a group of locals riffing on Irish music. Seventeen unaffiliated people with fiddles, flutes and a tiny Irish accordian made our hearts sing. The people are very respectful and proud of their heritage.

Ireland is a fine place to visit, fine people, beautiful countryside, intricate history, great food, and wonderful music. Below are some photos of larger than life posters seen on the outside walls of buildings in an alley called the Icon Alley in Dublin. Do you know these people?

County Kerry to County Clare or Dingle to the Burren

We knew it would be rainy in Ireland and were prepared with waterproof shoes, pants and jackets. The rain did not discourage our explorations but when we arrived on the Dingle peninsula we were ready for some real exercise. A bike ride seemed the perfect thing for this landscape but not in the rain. Imagine our happiness when we woke up the following morning to the ONLY non rainy day day we have had in 10 days. In fact, it was bright and sunny. It was a wee bit o' Kaplan luck and great timing.




The Dingle Peninsula is a bright green, soft looking landscape with many farms terraced in the hillside separated by stone fences. Grazing cattle and sheep, ruins of ancient stone dwellings, including beehive houses, and stunning sea views made great photo ops along the route. It was mostly gentle rolling hills from the ocean to rounded mountains for 25 miles, enough to feel the biking mojo return in full, enough to feel entitled to a stop at Murphy's ice cream after the ride to savor the local flavors.








County Clare was next. If rocks and stones were worth their weight in gold Ireland would be a rich country indeed. County Clare is all hard surface. Stones everywhere, fences, ancient burial monuments, houses, ring forts, and the land itself is stone. Picture a field that is 75% rocks and boulders and 25% green grass, everywhere. It's beautiful and forbidding. One can only imagine the effort and energy it took humans to move the stones and build the structures.




The limestone is layered and terraced to into mountains. There is no farming here and even grazing animals need to be clever to find food. The land area called the Burren was created by the sea, the rain, and the glaciers which dragged boulders along and deposited them as they started retreating. Eons of time, weather and water created the Cliffs of Moher, Ireland's defining western face. Underground is a network of caves carved as the rain water seeped into the cracks of the limestone land. The Burren is evidence that Ireland began life as a tropical sea. There are fossils of sea creatures, as well as arctic, alpine and tropical flowers. Shifting land masses and changing climate periods have laid down a unique landscape.








Having done Dingle then the Burren, it is difficult to tell which is the more beautiful. Dingle, in County Kerry, is like undulating green velvet, rising to mountains, falling to the sea. Just north in County Claire, the Burren is rough and hard. I love them both.