A Well Kept Man

If you find yourself in Ireland and fancy a drive down to the southern part of the country, I highly recommend staying a night or two in Tramore (Trá Mhór for the leprechauns out there). Tramore is a small town on the coast about 10-15 minutes drive from Waterford, where the world famous Waterford Crystal is made. Alli convinced me to go on this tour (albeit I was quite skeptical as crystal isn't exactly a manly thing) and I must say I was pleasantly surprised at the fun factor. You get an all-access tour to see how crystal is made from start to finish. We saw a water pitcher being made, a chandelier being blown, as well as various bowls, cups, vases, etc being etched by skilled artisans. The highlight of the tour (for me anyway) was getting to hold the backup copy of the AT&T Pebble Beach Pro-Am Championship trophy. I didn't drop it but man was it heavy (thankfully I am super buff thanks to my intense workouts, so it wasn't really a problem). Alli decided against holding one of the giant trophies (of which there were many) and opted instead for a giant wine goblet (it was full before she picked it up...and she said she wasn't thirsty for the rest of the day).

We also saw the backup of the crystal ball that drops in Times Square on New Years' Eve/Day. Looks a little like the Death Star from Star Wars (which was their inspiration I'm told).

That evening we stayed at the Cloneen Bed and Breakfast, which I strongly encourage you to stay at if you are in this area. It was by far the best B&B we stayed at while in Ireland. They had lovely gardens, the rooms were duly furnished, and the breakfast was outstanding. We enjoyed talking with the owners who were very friendly and accommodating, as well as provided great recommendations for dinner. For dinner we ate at a restaurant called the Vee Bistro. Being the gourmands that we are, we know a good meal when we find one and this place was awesome. We also happened to be there for the early bird special (5-7pm...early bird? they must stay out late here), which granted us one appetizer and entree, or entree and dessert for 22.50 Euro per person (including coffee or tea). So Alli got an appetizer (marinated mushrooms with a tasty sauce, which we shared), we each had an entree (I had a ribeye, I don't remember what Alli had because I was too busy stuffing cow and french fries into my mouth) and split a bottle of wine, and I ordered a dessert (maple and walnut pie with a vanilla cream sauce, which we shared...although I think I got a couple extra bites since the FDA says I need more calories than Alli).

Dinner was very enjoyable, and our waitress was very friendly. Seeing that I couldn't really find an answer in the guidebooks I asked her whether or not Ireland was a country where tips were customary as much of Europe is not (you might leave a dollar or two, but the waitstaff is usually paid a higher wage than American waitpersons so usually no tip is required). She let me know that you do tip in Ireland, although it is generally around 10% (unless you don't think the waiter deserved a tip).

We also got the recipe for the sweet potato mash that came with our meal (Warning, every meal in Ireland seems to come with additional starches or vegetables in spite of what comes on your plate. Unless you are in tip-top shape you will probably not be able to finish your meals due to the sheer volume of potato related dishes that accompany your main course. For example, my ribeye came with french fries which seemed normal, until the waitress brought out a second and third plate with regular mashed potatoes, mashed sweet potatoes, some other kind of potato wedges, carrots, and potatoes au gratin...each one would have sufficed as a side dish for two; in the end I proabbly ate about 25 potatoes for dinner that night with my steak, mushrooms, and pie. Just be prepared, you were warned), with the secret ingredient of tarragon (seriously, tarragon is very underutilized; everyone uses basil, or oregano, or even coriander these days, but tarragon? Not unless you are a French chef or were cooking with tarragon before tarragon was cool. Mark my words, tarragon will be the next cool spice/herb once chipotle and basil have run their course).

As you can tell, we enjoyed this part of Ireland very much with its scenic coastline, wonderful food, and charming atmosphere. If we ever make it back to the Emerald Isle, we will definitely return to this quaint little town.

Apparently they don't have the orange cone thingies in Ireland due to an overabundance of other "parking cone like" implements.

Well, driving on the left hand side of the road is a unique experience. Silly me decided to rent a manual transmission as well (why make things easy??). I'll be the first to admit my standard transmission skills are on par with my singing, dancing, and general movements (I've been described as a gazelle by some, a wounded chicken by most). Thankfully I had Susan (who incidentally has been sacked as of this afternoon and replaced by a British woman whom I shall refer to as Jane) who reminded me every time I asked her for directions that I should drive on the left. This included loud beeping and flashing pictures on the screen.

Alli was also good at reminding me which side of the road to be on as well as the speed limit I was pre-approved to drive (not always the same as the posted limit). I managed to stall the car about a half dozen times or so, usually on a hill or round about which I'm sure caused a few Irish persons to quickly pray to St. Please-move-this-American-out-of-my-way-so-I-don't-attack-them-with-my-shillelagh (the Catholic population is around 90% or so in Ireland, but we won't get into that here). I also managed to avoid hitting things with my car even though at times it seemed certain I would be a proud owner of the Nissan Note (you break it, you bought it).

Driving on the left isn't really all that hard, it just takes some getting used to (passengers apparently need more time to acclimate as they are in the de-facto drivers seat and don't have the same point-of-view as the real driver does). Our car was also very small as gas is expensive and I didn't want to get some gas guzzler, which meant we had the tiniest car I've ever been inside (it's slightly longer than a Mini). By the end of the trip I was ready to get back to a place where people drive on the right, and where the roads are large enough for more than 1.5 cars to drive on safely.

Alli and I went for a walk one evening along the coast en route to dinner. As we were walking we saw a couple and their daughter walking their dog which looked very much like our dog, only with shorter legs and a stockier build. Alli asked what kind of dog it was hoping it was a Wheaten so then she could pretend it was her dog and give it a hug.

The happy Irishman proclaimed it to be a Glen of Imaal Terrier and then regaled us with the origin of this Irish dog breed and it's purpose (hunting badgers). We then told them of our dog and how the two look very much alike. In fact, if you took our dog and just removed about 3/4 of the length of her legs and added about 10 pounds, you'd have their dog. After talking for a bit about dogs he asked us where in the United States we were from.

This is a pet peeve of mine ever since we have arrived...everyone just assumes we are Americans. Don't they realize we are from Switzerland? (Just kidding, I actually find it quite amusing as the two of us apparently represent the USA very well, so I take it as a compliment.) We explain where we are from (Minnesota) to which he replied that he never heard of it. Most people in Europe think the United States consists of New York and Washington D.C. on the East Coast, LA on the West Coast, and if they are truly cultured they know Chicago is somewhere in-between. From what I've gathered they think that you can get from one coast to the other in about a couple hours by car, and that if you don't live in one of the aforementioned cities then you are a cowboy that lives on a farm.

Back to the story...

At this point this Irishman looks at the two of us and begins to gesture wildly. First he points at me and loudly declares "Not you", then switches his pointing to Alli while making a circular motion (apparently encompassing her person in the air) "...but YOU! Have a major portion of Irish in you." At this point I awarded him the Nobel Prize for the discovery of the century...

Seriously, did it require you making fun of the lowly German boy to point out that my lovely wife has freckles, fair skin, and red hair? Either way, Alli was accepted into the clan and I was banished into the sea with the snakes (we didn't see any snakes in Ireland so the legend of St. Patrick must be true).

Alli looked forward to each new encounter with the locals as she was able explain her Irish heritage. After telling them that she was in fact Irish (leaving out the part that she is only 1/8), what her family name was (Reilly), and where they were from (Balbriggan), we would often get the story of the Reilly's from Balbriggan. Irish people KNOW their history and where the people come from (your name tends to indicate where you are from and what your social standing is/was...apparently the Irish don't move around too much), and apparently with Alli's family they were a good family with decent social standing that seem to have mostly left Ireland during the early part of the twentieth century to seek better lives in America. I decided to ask why I didn't look Irish and they replied that my hair and skin were too dark (I think they implied my ability to tan had something to do with it, and/or the fact that I can go out in the sunlight without turning into a lobster), and that my features were more Italian or Spanish (definitely Latin) of some sort. They seemed disappointed to find out I am German, but were happy to know I made a good choice in marrying a redhead. (I didn't inform them of our Protestantism for fear of being thrown into the sea for sure).

We had a wonderful trip to Ireland, in spite of all of the rain and cold temperatures. Most of the people in Ireland seemed downtrodden over the weather, labeling it as "October-like". I can't say it was that bad, although we were happy to get back "home" to Switzerland where shorts and t-shirts quickly replaced our jeans and rain coats. We maybe had two half-days of sunshine, the rest was a combination of cold, misty, rainy, overcast, windy, foggy, but vibrantly green and stony/rocky.

I never fully appreciated the size of Ireland until we started driving around. If you plan on going and want to see it all, you will probably need a good two to three weeks. It's not that cities and sites are located a long way from each other, it's just that the road system doesn't allow for efficient transit (most roads the max speed you could safely drive and not hit a passing car, 1000 year old wall, or sheep/cow was around 60 kilometers per hour or ~35 mph). I thought it would be super easy to just drive 2-3 hours per day and see everything...but we sadly had to drop some things from our itinerary (whiskey factory tour, driving tour of Connemara, a few churches/abbeys/stone forts).

If you plan on driving yourself (rather than taking a tour bus), I say go for it. I'll admit each morning I struggled with trying to remember that I was supposed to drive on the left, but once you almost crash head on into oncoming traffic once or twice then you remember. I was disappointed at Susan's performance at times, as there are now a couple major superhighways that did she did not know about so I was taken off on some windy country roads which impeded our progress somewhat, and I was often yelling at her (especially when she couldn't find our B&B that I told her about before we left).

Susan is the name of the chick on my GPS who pronounces things funny. In Ireland, she pronounces the word 'road' like you and I would pronounce 'rod'. But on the other hand she is worth every penny I paid as she has enabled me to avoid having to ask people for directions. If you plan on traveling on unfamiliar roads and are too lazy to plan everything ahead of time, get a GPS. Make sure the maps are up to date, download some POI's (points of interest), and you should be in for good times.

We saw bronze age forts, castles from the days of yore, and beer from last week (Smithwicks is great, Guinness is ok - although it is much better than in the U.S., Porterhouse brew pub beer is so-so, although I only had 3 of 9 varieties so maybe there are some better choices). We saw how they make Waterford Crystal, almost were lost at sea, stayed at an awesome B&B (a couple were sorely lacking), ate potatoes in multiple forms (fried, mashed, covered in cheese, roasted, boiled, stewed, au

Ireland is a lovely place, despite the weather, and I hope to go back someday to see all that we missed. More stories to come...must sort through 500 pictures of leprechauns, crosses, beer, and sheep. gratin, and many more), and interacted with the locals.

We will probably have a very leisurely morning followed by the last minute wrap of all things Dublin that we missed (Trinity College maybe). This will sadly be our last day in Ireland as our flight leaves at noon back to Geneva. I don't know how long it will take us to get our travel photos and adventures posted, but I will do my best to not hold back for too long. We are again on Aer Lingus and taking the train from Geneva to Lausanne, walking from the train station to our apartment. Alli will probably be excited to sleep in her own bed, but not excited about working the next day. Oh, and it is Alli's birthday today so don't forget to send her an email reminding her that she's still older than me.

We will leave for Dublin first thing (after breakfast of course) and stop in Kilbeggan along the way. This will probably be the highlight of Mark's trip to Ireland as it is a whiskey factory (with tasting at the end...naturally). Alli will then drive us the remainder of the way to Dublin where will proceed to see everything we didn't see on Day One/Two. This will probably be quite a bit as I'm guessing we'd rather skip Dublin on the first day to get to the crystal factory and see the Kilkenny area. We will again be staying at the Abberley House Bed and Breakfast, and maybe making a evening pub adventure to The Porterhouse (I wonder if they have a sampler platter....).

This will be our day to drive around the Galway area, seeing the various sights such as Clifden and Mayo. We plan on following this tour as it seems to be fairly complete. Depending on the weather and our adventures from the previous day, we may also try to make our way out to the Aran Islands. Apparently there are some neat Christian historical sites and a cool old castle made of iron. I am guessing this will be a catch our breath day as you will notice that we have pretty much been driving around like crazy people for the past four days. I promise that we are taking lots of pictures and will post some when we return.

We will have either just left Kerry County via the Dingle Peninsula or directly from the B&B, either way, our next stop will be the ferry in Tarbert to avoid having to drive the extra 80 miles around the Shannon River. We figured we could skip Limerick as I don't like poetry that much anyway.

We will then drive along the West coast and see the famed Cliffs of Moher en route to Galway. If you didn't notice we purposely did not stop to see the Blarney Castle and Blarney Stone in Cork because we heard from multiple sources that the castle isn't that great, it's overly touristy, and putting our lips on a rock that millions of other people have doesn't really seem like our cup of tea.

Plus, we can always go back to Ireland in case Alli needs another upgrade or her freckles repainted.

We will be staying at the Corrib View Farm Country Bed and Breakfast in Annaghdown, County Galway. We will be here for two nights, as there will be plenty to see and do in the area.

After leaving Waterford, we will head towards Cashel to see the Rock of Cashel followed by a trip to Cobh to see where the Titanic made it's last port of call. This town is also where most Irish immigrants from the last few centuries departed for America, so we will see if we can identify anyone we knew that left from here through historical records. In what should be a long day, we will eventually make it the Abbey Court Bed & Breakfast in Kenmare, County Kerry. The owners seem to be very friendly over email so perhaps we will have some good stories of getting to know them. I think we may try to squeeze in a drive around the Dingle Peninsula this evening, but if not then definitely first thing in the morning.

Depending on what we decided to do in the morning, we will either be leaving first thing for Waterford or spending the morning in Dublin and the afternoon driving to Waterford. We plan on visiting the Waterford Crystal Factory for a tour, and perhaps driving around the area. The medieval town of Kilkenny lies along the route to Waterford, so we will most likely stop for a tour of the castle and cathedral.

We will be staying at the Cloneen Bed and Breakfast in Tramore, County Waterford near the water. I'm guessing a lovely stroll along the harbor/ocean will be in order. In the morning we will leave after breakfast for our next stop.

We are getting on a train from Lausanne to Geneva (after walking to the train station from our apartment...like three whole blocks).

We are flying on Aer Lingus from Geneva to Dublin.

We will arrive in the early evening and after renting our car we will attempt to head to Balbriggan, the site of Alli's Irish ancestral heritage. We will then be traveling to Dublin for what should be the first of many pub dinners. We will stay at the Abberley House Bed and Breakfast (8/21) and perhaps walk around Dublin in the evening (weather permitting). We probably won't have enough time to go into any museums or buildings, so the first evening will just be a walk/drive around town kind of evening.

In the morning we will either immediately depart for our next destination or see some of the key Dublin sights before leaving for our next destination around lunch time.

We are flying to Ireland tomorrow (not sure how we'd get there by car...ferry maybe?), so I am busy packing and getting things organized for the trip today. I received a letter from Ireland when I married Alli that I needed to bring her to the Emerald Isle at least once before her warranty expires for maintenance and upgrades.

They figured they would need about a week to do the necessary freckle inspection, red hair sampling, and to install the most recent Leprechaun Operating System. I will have automated posts that let you know where we are every day should you need to find us for any reason as I don't intend to lug my computer around with us (too much risk of spilling beer on the keyboard).

We will be speaking English from the moment we arrive, so we won't have any language issues once we get there. I will most likely have some driving on the left hand side of the road stories when we return, so keep tuned in for updates after the 27th of August. Until then, have a nice week!

For my younger readers: Enjoy the last few days of freedom from school.
For my parent readers: Get excited for your first few days of freedom once the kids are back at school. By freedom I mean you don't have to worry about what your kids are doing all day and how much trouble they are getting into because now it is the teacher's problem.
For my parent readers whose kids don't go to school yet and you stay home with them: Pretend you are on vacation with us by putting some Irish Cream or Irish Whiskey in your coffee, and putting the Dora or Sponge Bob DVD on repeat (unless you have really young kids...like less than a year old, then just use some Irish Cream flavored creamer and put in the Baby Einstein videos...they're great for learning colors and shapes)
For those who work, but don't have kids: Enjoy dreaming about taking a vacation, but get some work done! They aren't paying you to dream...
For those who don't work, but have kids, but the kids are old enough to take care of themselves: Why don't you come hang out with us in Ireland? Or if you just can't make it then follow the instructions of the stay at home parent above, only replace the DVD by taking turns reading Yeats or James Joyce aloud to each other in your best Irish Accent.

Since many of my readers do not speak French, I will translate this sign (from my previous post) for you in case you happen to be in an area that requires obedience to the rules of the land.

Cell One: You will be much happier if you walk in front of your child. Cows will attack the slowest and weakest member of your hiking party. You can always have more kids.

Cell Two: Most cows are afraid of larger animals. Use a dog on a leash to make yourself seem bigger. Taking longer strides and holding your arms out straight will make you seem like a giant.

Cell Three: Make sure to know the metric system. Europe is better because of the metric system and you will enjoy your walk more if you know how to calculate distances in meters instead of feet. Cows stand on average 20 meters from the path, if you find yourself any closer than this to a cow, it is because you have converted units incorrectly.

Cell Four: Cows like to pretend they are in an orchestra, hence the bells and mooing. Make sure you have your children practice their conducting techniques before approaching the cows as they are very sensitive to poor performances.

Cell Five: Baby cows like to be petted, but do not bend your wrist while petting. Cows get jealous of humans ability to articulate their hands so it is best to pretend you can't.

Cell Six: The bells on the cows are very heavy and force them to keep their heads facing towards the ground. The bells are to remind the cows to eat the grass because that is what they are being paid to do. Think of cows as nature's lawn mowers.

Cell Seven: If a cow approaches you about a time-share presentation in exchange for a free weekend in a ski-chalet, continue walking. This is a common tourist scam which will involve a high-pressured sales pitch.

Cell Eight: Do not try to knight a cow. The last thing Switzerland needs is cows running around liberating the oppressed and searching for holy relics.

After receiving a break from the rainy weather, Alli and I decided on a hiking adventure on Saturday as we weren't in the mood for a long car ride or human interaction (sometimes you just need "me" time). We spent the better part of the morning watching Olympics coverage and scouring our maps, guidebooks, and the internet for a nice route to partake. I decided on a hike that would take us to the peak of some of a nearby mountain, but I was overruled due to the statistics of the hike (4.25 hours, 10 km, 875 m climb, peak of 1916 m). I can understand her reluctance (or woman's intuition) for not wanting to go hike up to this summit, so we settled for a much easier climb (2.25 hours, 7 km, 504 m climb, peak of 1165 m).

We packed ourselves a picnic lunch (more appropriately described as a refrigerator full of food stuffed into a backpack just in case we got lost for three weeks and needed to make sure we had plenty to eat), and headed off towards Gruyère. Gruyère is where the world famous Gruyère cheese is made, and the hike we were to take was labeled the Cheese-Dairy Trail. Upon arriving we decided it was time for lunch (since it was getting close to 1:30 in the afternoon). We took a quick tour of the modern cheese-making facility which included authentic cheese smell. The smell of the salt-water brine bath and aging cheese is not one soon forgot, nor would I recommend the tour for anyone easily nauseated. Wisconsinites will probably find this area to smell much like Green Bay on a Sunday afternoon, everyone else will not.

The tour (not worth it if you ask me) includes a narrated audio tour (in your language of choice) of how the cheese is made, from start to finish. Start = open field waiting for cows, Finish = macaroni and cheese dinner. I don't want to upset my readers so I will eliminate the 'middle' portion of the tour (plus, I really don't want to ruin the "excitement" if you happen to get suckered into going). A cow named "Cherry" narrates the tour as you go through the process of cheese production, and in the end you get a sample of three different ages of Gruyère cheese (6 months, 8 mos, and 10 mos). We haven't sampled ours yet as we are still in cheese detox from the second-hand cheese odor.

After making our way outside we launched on our adventure. The starting time of our hike was 2:30 pm (foreshadowing). We immediately began our hike which wandered through the locals' backyards, and past a farm or two (including a horse stable) and onto a mountain road (which was paved...not quite what I had in mind for a hike, but oh well). The day was cool (no warmer than 17 C or so...low - mid 60's) and we quickly made our way into the forest. It was a fairly steep climb immediately so we were definitely getting a good workout. After about an hour or so the forest opened up a bit to open meadows and the sounds of cowbells. I wonder of the farmers have ever regretted putting bells on the necks of the cows, it seems to me that it would get pretty annoying having to listen to mooing and cowbells all day and night. Maybe they should just follow the cow pies if they want to know where the cows are...they seemed pretty reliable to me (Dried up cow pie means there was a cow here at some point, but it wasn't very recently. Fresh cow pie means there is a cow close by...pretty simple and much quieter.)

The scenery was quite breathtaking as we made it out of the trees. I am not sure how far we could see, but the sky was clear and we had some beautiful views of the area. The air was amazingly clean as well and it felt as if my lungs received a good scrubbing. One never fully appreciates crisp, clean air until they get a chance to take a couple chests full while trying to catch their breath after a long hike. Back to the hike...

At this point we were continuing to climb and hadn't found the alleged alpine cheese hut that was supposed to be at the pinnacle of our hike, so we began to wonder if we missed it. However, the signs were pointing to proceed so we did (we didn't have a watch either so it was tough to know exactly how long we had been hiking, maybe it was only 30 minutes...). We were all of the sudden faced with a predicament that I have yet to encounter in my relatively limited experience in the wild. You see, during the hike we often had to go through closed gates and turnstiles when we reached fences on the trail. The barriers are to prevent the cows from going down into town and leaving unpaid bar bills. After making it through one such turnstile, we noticed the path made its way right between a bunch of grazing cows.

Normally this wouldn't be a problem as most of the cows I have encountered tended to be fat and lazy cows. But we were at an altitude of about 1000 m (0.62 miles) and these cows walked to get here. We also had heard a story from some of Alli's colleagues of the somewhat aggressive nature of certain alpine cows (a father and his son were literally chased downhill by a herd of cows). As luck would have it there was a cow blocking our path up the mountain. She wasn't planning on moving anytime soon either. I tried my best to speak cow..."MOOOOO-ve" I must had said at least five or six times (Alli didn't laugh, and the cow didn't move; I must have pronounced it wrong). Rather than tempting fate and trying to squeeze by the cow and the roughly 200 foot drop off, we decided to go around the cow the other way. This meant navigating between freshly laid cow pies (must have been some cows here recently) and other cows nearby. I led the way as Alli figured if something went wrong, she could learn from my misfortune and live to tell the story to all of my kin.

I instructed her to follow my footsteps to avoid any squishy surprises, but also to avoid eye-contact with the cows as this could incite a stampede. I successfully made it past the cow rather quickly (thanks for the long legs Dad) and was able to turn around in time to watch Alli (I really wanted to take a picture of her). At this point I started to make it seem like the cow was getting ready to attack so Alli sped up a bit. I think she managed to avoid all of the land mines but I think she wasn't too impressed with me joking around (the bruise on my arm is healing nicely, thanks for asking). The trek continued....

We continued to climb and climb and climb, through more forest, more cows, and finally to a clearing with a sign that I found interesting. Remembering my bike adventure through a flash flood area I stopped and read the sign closely. From what I can tell from the pictures it doesn't appear that I should practice cow-tipping or any other cow-related pranks. In fact, I shouldn't even stop to ask them for dinner recommendations, I should just keep moooo-ving along. So we did, although I managed a couple photos before moving very slowly towards the nearest turnstile.

After a little more hiking we managed to reach the destination of the hike, a small village in the mountains called "Moléson." I wasn't sure what time it was but I can tell you that we had been hiking for at least two hours. Apparently the 2.25 hour hike is one-way. It is at this point that Alli reminds me we could have been on the 4.25 hour hike I wanted to go on (which is most likely a 8.5 - 9 hour hike if you don't want to live where the hike ends). We checked out the town (this took about 5 minutes) and decided we should be heading back before nightfall (we also heard the cows are especially frisky at night). Before we left town, I decided to befriend a cow and fed her some dandelions and miscellaneous other greenery. This was interesting in that I have never almost had the skin ripped off my hand before by a cow tongue. I misunderestimated the reach of said cow tongue, nor did I know that the cow's tongue was coated with 50 grit sandpaper. Thankfully I had my pocket sized bottle of hand sanitizer so I did not contract mad cow disease.

We managed to hike the rest of the trail in around two hours as well, passing more cows, turnstyles and surprisingly enough a Green Bay Packers fan. There was a farmer moving her herd from one pasture to another which we had to stop for due to the fact that the cows were passing in front of our only exit from the mountain back down. She was wearing a Packers fleece which I found odd considering everyone here thinks football is really soccer. I wish I would have known how to tell her that Brett Favre is no longer on the team, but I didn't want her to release her cows on me in a fit of Cheese-head rage.

Sadly, I don't have a picture but I'll always have the memory. Needless to say we finished our hike in four hours time (pretty fast if you ask me), although we were only prepared for a little over two. We spent most of Sunday letting our legs, feet, and knees (Alli needed ice due to her knee's bothering her, since our ice supply is limited I had to use ice cream instead...I heal from the inside out) recover from the hike, but the scenery was beautiful...so I won't complain anymore.

My day started with taking Alli to work so I could have the car to run errands (which I needed because it was raining). My first start was to get a haircut. As you can tell from the picture, I think everything worked out as best as could be expected. Aside from having to spend 35 CHF (I'm including my 2 CHF for parking in the total) on a ten minute adventure, it was interesting.

I was greeted at the front door by the barber, whom I exchanged Bonjour's with, followed by me asking "Parlez-vous anglais?" (Do you speak English?...this is pretty standard now really as it is easier for the Swiss to speak English than to try and comprehend my version of French.) He then responded by saying "Only a little bit, but if I have a few glasses of wine then I am much better." Judging by the quality of that sentence I was concerned that perhaps he was already through his first bottle of the day, at it wasn't even 10:15 am. Nevertheless, I was committed to getting a haircut so I figured it would be worth the experience. We chit chatted in English for about five minutes, me explaining what I wanted done to my hair (sadly, he didn't think the mohawk and purple dye were good ideas...sorry Abby), and him discussing his upcoming holiday (vacation) to Napoli (Naples), Italy.

He said he was going to go spend a week in September to eat pizza (no joke, that's really why he was going...apparently they make a tasty pie down there). At this point he tells me, "Ok, I speak French now" and begins to discuss things with me (well he was discussing, I was imitating a deer in the headlights). I was able to understand the parts of the conversation when he asked if I understand French, to which I responded "Oui, a little" (that's Frenglish). He responded that I should have said "Un petit peu" (a little bit). So I'm making progress. He asked if I wanted my hair shorter than he currently had trimmed it, to which I responded somewhat appropriately "No, c'est bon" (which is French for 'No, it's good tasting'). He let me in on a secret that 'bon' is for describing the quality of food as in, "Le escargot, c'est bon" (French for 'the snails are tasty'...something I doubt I need to teach Alli). If I want to describe the quality of my haircut, I should use the word 'bien'.

The adventure was successful, and now I feel like "un nouvel homme" (a new man) as he said (which I surprisingly understood). So now that I was properly groomed, I headed over to pick up our resident permits at the equivalent of city hall (which required no speaking whatsoever) and then off to Tolochenaz to experience the world of Medtronic Europe and the magical one hour European lunch.

As much as it pains certain individuals (the redhead) to waste an entire hour sitting down to a hot meal (when there is work to be done, who has time to waste an hour eating), it was quite civilized and delightful. The cafeteria has a head chef and multiple assistant chefs that run around cooking food to order and plating it for you. After securing our food (Alli got a plain cheese/basil/tomato pizza because she can't read the menu to know what else might come on the pizza...I helped her out so next time she can have some variety; I had spicy fried chicken with a spicy sauce, sauteed zucchini, leeks, and rice) we sat down to lunch in the atrium overlooking Lake Geneva and the French Alps (including Mont Blanc which is always covered with snow, hence the Blanc which means white...at least until global warming attacks it and it is known as the Mont that was formerly Blanc). Actually we couldn't see any of this because it was cloudy and rainy, but Alli claims on sunny days you really can see them (sure Alli, I believe you).

Apparently the 'cool' thing to do after you eat is to go and stand around some tables in the "Cafe Espace" (French for Coffee Spaces) and have a coffee, espresso, or tea. Alli seldom does this as she is afraid of the espresso machine (I made that part up...she just doesn't care too much for coffee). I didn't have a clue how the super-automatic machine worked, but due to my keen intellect and engineering degree it was impossible for me to fail. I pushed the button that matched the cup size I selected, which was an espresso cup (which is really tiny for the uninitiated). What I didn't realize was that I pushed the button for a double shot of espresso (instead of a single shot), which is about 2 ounces of liquid and about 100 mg of caffeine. It would take about 4 times as much coffee to get the same amount of caffeine. If you still aren't convinced, I wrote this entire blog in three seconds (I'll be competing in the Olympics on Sunday in Short Track Blogging for those interested)...now I'm all jacked up on caffeine (I also had 3 dl of Coca-Cola with lunch, no ice - but with a lovely lemon because it made me feel special).

I also ran a bunch of trivial errands requiring me to converse in French with city officials and the car rental agency...it's mostly a blur but somehow I have an extra 190 CHF in my wallet and a new rental car contract (we needed to switch the credit card) so I must have done something right (or they paid me to leave and avoid embarrassing myself anymore than I already managed). I am thinking I am due for a huge caffeine crash in about 10 minutes so I apologize in advance if there are grammatical errors in this post, or if it doesn't make any sense at all...

Watch this video and you'll know how I feel...learning French is tough. This video still cracks me up every time I watch it. Enjoy! I'm off to get my hair cut and have lunch with Alli, so I won't have anything interesting to write about until this evening.

Last night I had a pression (draft beer, more formally a 'bière à la pression') with the husband of a colleague of Alli's from Medtronic. The purpose of the meeting was to get advice relating to securing a job here in Switzerland, as he had been through the same situation when his wife was transferred here nearly three years ago. For those wondering, the beer made in Switzerland is pretty much uneventful (so far...I'm determined to find a good one). As a result I tried to order a familiar beer at the "British" pub. There are many "British" pubs in Switzerland, which supposedly have all of the international beers that an typical expat would look for in lieu of the lesser Swiss varietals.

The gentleman I was with immediately ordered a Guinness, which the garçon (French for waiter...also refers to a young boy depending on the context. It appears that the original purpose for having children, at least French male children, was to have a servant who waited on you and brought you libations; apparently my father knew this as I often recall fetching his evening beer as a young lad) had no problems with. "Oui" he said, and then looked at me. Surely if they had Guinness, and being a "British" pub I would have no trouble ordering an ale or lager with a British Isles heritage. As there was no menu, and we were seated outside on the patio, I assumed that I could just pick a British ale and resume our conversation.

Now, for those that have enjoyed a pint or two with me know I don't prefer to drink heavy stouts and porters as they make me sleepy (and I find them too sweet and malty..nothing like a meal in a glass), so silly me I order a good British ale (at least in my mind)...a Bass. You would have thought I asked the garçon for a bucket of shrimp milk (if this isn't funny replace 'shrimp milk' with 'dolphin sweat'). It's like he's never even heard of such a thing. So then I figured, ok, maybe it's just Irish beer at this place, so I order a Harp Lager (similar to a Bass, but a lager instead of an ale). Again, he treated me like I was suggesting he drain the contents of battery into a glass and serve it to me.

So at this point I'm at a loss...do I order a beer I don't care for or try for another beer of the British Commonwealth (Fosters maybe...Australia was once a British colony. Maybe India has some good beer)? It was during this time the garçon became quite fed up and just leaves. He brought me back a draft beer from the very (un)British colony of Denmark (is that a hint of Lox I taste in my beer? MMMM). I am not sure what is going on here but when you think Carlsberg is a British beer you have some serious problems that can only be cured by retaking high school geography and history classes...

Needless to say next time I network I will be sure to study the beer list ahead of time for suitable choices. Heineken is readily available by the way, whereas Budweiser, Miller, Coors, etc. are not (pretty much impossible to find unless you are in a specialty shop that imports American goods). Don't even get me started about the lack of Bell's Oberon and Two-Hearted Ale...(Dad, be sure to stock up for my trip back at Christmas).

With respect to the networking itself, I received some great suggestions of how to go about securing a job (including the proper format for my CV = curriculum vitae; this is the equivalent of a resume, only instead of omitting anything that might indicate what you look like, what your family situation is, how old you are, etc., they are required. Thankfully there is a shortage of tall, skinny, American, house-husbands around age 30 in Switzerland.), some potential job agencies (for part-time or full-time work, which tends to look for trailing spouses who are in my situation), as well as offering some help getting my CV passed around to some of his contacts (of which he has many as he is basically a sales guy).

So once I can get my CV together I will begin looking (more intensely) for a job. Apparently all I really need is my residence permit, a job contract, and then I pay about $100 bucks and I get a work permit (it seems like everything here costs money to "process"...who would have thought I needed to pay the government for the privilege of providing economic growth and stability? Why hasn't the U.S. thought of this???....oh wait, the payroll tax is their version. Last time I checked that was a little bit more than $100.). It's probably a little more involved and harder than I have made it sound, but I will hopefully get some leads in the next few weeks and maybe be employed before the weather turns to less-than-bike-friendly (but then ski season starts, so maybe not...).

It finally stopped raining (after three days, I was beginning to wonder if I would be able to keep my incredible George Hamilton tan going), so I hopped on my bike for a cathartic ride (see map at left for route and elevation). I have yet to take a route north of the city, so I decided today would be a good day for it. The wind was a bit of a nuisance (I saw a barn from Kansas flying by) but I managed. After climbing up through Lausanne, I found myself in beautiful countryside, complete with farms and meadows, a stray cat (he wasn't very interested in my efforts to communicate, as he probably reads my blog on the weekends and thinks I'm a snob) and an airstrip. Being somewhat winded from the climb (both from the change in elevation and the constant force of the wind pressing against my giant upper body), I stopped to watch a young whipper-snapper taking flight lessons.

I figured it would be cool to watch him take off with the instructor out towards Lake Léman and the Alps (I also figured there should be a witness in case something went awry). I truly am fortunate to be able to witness some of the little things in life that so many people miss (farmers plowing their fields, cows grazing, roadside produce stands). I continued my ride and connected with God (He told me it was the Holy Spirit making all the wind) and enjoyed a peaceful ride out in the country. There are some quaint little towns around here and riding through them only helps me to see how awesome this place is and how I feel that next summer will come all too quickly. My ride continued through a small forest with some towering pines and other leafy trees (I'm guessing oak trees by the amount of acorns on the ground), then back through the countryside towards Lausanne.

I am now at the point where I think I could ride just about anywhere (within a 20 mile radius of our apartment) and be ok in terms of stamina. The hills aren't so daunting, and my calf muscles are now the size of a large grapefruit...(tragically the rest of my legs are still toothpick in size so I guess I look like a martini garnish from the waist down). We head off to Ireland next week on Thursday so I have to do some more planning. We are enjoying waking up early to watch Michael Phelps dominate in the pool (another of the simple pleasures), plus it helps me get my day started (which is an added bonus in that Alli doesn't give me grief for sleeping in until 10am).

After being in Switzerland for a while, you find it necessary to establish routines and habits that help keep you sane. Many of these activities and events help remind us that we are still English-speaking Americans and there are some quasi-American things to do thousands of miles away from the mother ship. Last night we decided we would make it a date night and go see a movie after another wonderful dinner prepared by the executive chef (grilled turkey tenderloin salad with pear, and a dijon-balsamic vinaigrette). Let me set the stage.

Across Switzerland throughout the months of July and August a local wireless phone provider is sponsoring outdoor showings of movies at various locations. We are very fortunate to have one of these locations about a twenty minute walk from our apartment. We figured it would be a unique way to see a movie and at the same time provide some well-needed balance in our somewhat Franco-Swiss environment. The movies that have been shown range from the new Batman movie to Indiana Jones 4 and Wall-E. The trick is picking a night when the movie being shown is in English, as most nights the movies are dubbed in French.

Last night the movie was "Get Smart," or for the French speakers out there "Max la Menace" (apparently the French translation of "Get Smart" makes people think their going to a lecture on personal hygiene and existentialism). The forecast for the day was rain but it basically quit raining around two or three and was fairly clear when we made the call at about seven thirty or so to go see the film. Remember this as it will become important later.

The film was set to start at 21h30 (so 9:30pm) so we left the apartment around eight figuring we would get there early to grab a good seat. We had a pleasant walk down to the lake and over to the stadium where we arrived expecting a throng of movie-goers (I mean, it's Monday night, schools out, why wouldn't' there be thousands of English speaking people in a Swiss city trying to sit outside to watch a movie at 9:30?)...sadly, we were probably the 12th and 13th people to get there.

As we approached the ticket booth I wondered in my head if I had enough cash to get us in (they too have cash in Switzerland, but their money is different colors and shapes and I don't recognize any of the dudes). I quickly retrieved my cash storage device (that's French for wallet) and saw that I had 40 CHF which is roughly $37 US (hopefully oil keeps dropping, the dollar keeps strengthening, and I can buy Zurich before we come back to the States). I'm thinking I'm good.

Barely.

A friend of Alli's from Medtronic warned us before we made it over here that everything will take twice as long to do the same thing in America, and will often cost twice as much. We have noticed this in restaurants and in all things bureaucratic as we have lingered at a table for an extra hour sometimes looking for our waiter (note to self, learn how to say "Please bring the check with the food" in French, German, Italian, Spanish, British, and Gaelic). Back to the story....

Now I've been to New York and saw a movie once for $12 and figured there must be some sort of beverage or food included with the ticket (even though there was not...thankfully I had some contraband M&M's in my pocket. Mmmm, warm M&M's). Nevertheless I was prepared for a 10-15 CHF movie ticket. The final total of two tickets to a movie that has been out since June....36 CHF ($33). It's at this point that I am super excited because I figure that the movie will actually be performed live by the cast of "Get Smart" right here in Switzerland (I mean, why else would they need to charge me that much?). I started looking around for the trailers that the pampered Hollywood stars ride in, but all I saw was a rather plump man fishing for perch and some teenage skateboarding punks (skate boarding is not a crime here in Switzerland).

(Another bonus that my darling bride reminded me of...there was a special rate for unemployed people/students/trolls with an extra eye...sadly I didn't know how to prove I had no job so I got suckered into paying full price. I also forgot my extra eye sticker at home so I couldn't get the troll rate either.)

I coolly calmed myself once I realized that yes, I could have produced the film myself for this much money but what fun would that have been and I resigned to myself to enjoy the rest of the evening. We successfully convinced the ticket booth mademoiselle that I spoke and understood perfect French (if you pretend to understand what they are saying, nod your head at appropriately spaced intervals, and say "Merci," you can fool just about anyone). We gave our tickets to the gatekeeper who sputtered off something in French about our tickets (great! I just bought fake movie tickets from an illegal ticket booth and now I'll have to shell out another 36 CHF to get into this movie). I nodded my head politely, said "Merci" and started to walk in (nobody was chasing me, so I guess I fooled her sufficiently), only Alli did not. She sort of stopped and looked really confused, to which she turned back to the gatekeeper and said "What?".

"IMPOSTERS!"

It was at this point the gatekeeper replied back "Do you want a rain poncho for the movie?" (Wow, I can understand French...oh wait, that's English, dang!). Alli of course asks if she thought we would need them, to which the gatekeeper replied that she had no idea, she hoped not, but they were "free" so we might as well take them. Judging by the exceptional Swiss quality of the ponchos I was able to recalculate our ticket price and realize things were getting better. (Movie tickets 35.95 CHF, rain ponchos, 2 for 0.05 CHF...yea, they were awesome.)

So we continued to walk into the movie grounds when Alli again stops, turns around and asks what else she said when we walked in. The gatekeeper (keeping in mind one more question in English will expose us as really bad CIA spies and certainly earn us a one way trip to the Gulag) replies that we can exchange our ticket stub for a free ice cream at the tent by the entrance. WOOHOO, free ice cream that I paid for, yes! (Movie tickets 29.95 CHF, 2 for 0.05 CHF rain ponchos, 2 ice cream cones for 6.00 CHF.)

So we go over to the ice cream counter where the French speaking ice-cream maiden asks which kind of ice cream we would like (in French). The word for chocolate in French is 'chocolat' (pronounced sho ko la) and vanilla is 'vanille' (van nee yer). Alli responds "chocolate" in perfect English and I respond "vanill" in perfect Mark-French. The Swiss-teen doling out the "free" ice cream wasn't impressed and rolled her eyes. Oh well, at least I got some ice cream.

After enjoying our ice cream we decided we should go find our seats as there would certainly be only a few good ones left being that the movie was going to start in 30 minutes. We were surprised to find that only eight of the three hundred or so seats had been claimed (apparently the other four people were still trying to sell their free ice cream tickets for bus fare to get back home...thankfully we walked so this wasn't a problem). After picking the perfect seat in the middle about two-thirds of the way up we sat down to our spectacular view.

We were watching a perfect sunset behind the majestic Alps of France, with the sun's final rays shimmering in perfect pinks, reds, and oranges as the waves of the lake danced below them. The first stars of the evening were beginning to twinkle in the heavens above, and a warm, late summer breeze blew tousling the leaves on the trees surrounding the stadium. At least that's what it would have looked like had it not been cold, overcast, and sprinkling. We did however have a great view of the rain rolling in towards our location. The stadium itself is right on the water, so you could watch the surface of the lake to see where the rain was and how fast it was moving. Utilizing rudimentary math I was able to pinpoint the exact starting time of the rain (Murphy's law) to the start of the movie.

When the movie was set to start hordes of people flocked into the stadium, filling about three-fifths of the stadium (I'm using fractions to help my younger readers out there get ready for school in a couple weeks...). We were then treated to previews. What transpired was fifteen minutes of product advertisements for items I don't want (even if I did, they were advertised in French and I wasn't really sure what to think. For example, one involved a couple eating breakfast in their country home. When the husband poured the orange juice, the sunflowers in the fields outside all turned toward the glass of orange juice making a sound that made me think of troops turning an abrupt right while in formation and clicking their heels upon completion of said turn. I'm pretty sure if I buy that brand of orange juice I will either be abducted by sunflowers or I will want to join the Swiss army where I will then help rid the country of unwanted sunflowers (I've deciphered that sunflowers personify ugly American tourists). In unrelated news enrollment levels in the Swiss Army has never been higher).

After the previews, or advertisements, there were actual movie previews (all in French...which was interesting because I was still laughing even though I couldn't understand what they were saying. Comedy apparently transcends language, either that or it's just funny to hear people speak in French). It was at this point (the end of the previews & ads and the start of the movie) that the rain started. Thankfully we were prepared with our ponchos and umbrella (nobody was behind us so I didn't care if people in Switzerland now carry the impression that all Americans bring umbrellas to movies).

The rain wasn't that bad (it was a light rain mostly) and actually started to let up towards the middle. Before I forget, the movie was subtitled to aid all of the French reading people in the audience. Also, there were subtitles for the German reading people in the audience. This was interesting as we realized that one fourth of the screen was covered in text. After a few minutes we adjusted, until the bad guys in the movie started speaking Russian (all bad guys speak Russian...note to self: Learn Russian, chicks dig bad guys). We were really lost, as we failed to immediately notice that now in addition to German and French, there was also English subtitles.

It was around the half-way point of the movie when they decided to stop the movie for a fifteen minute smoke break. Europeans need to take things slowly while driving, vacationing, walking, etc., (read my previous posts), but they also apparently need time during a movie to stop, reflect, smoke, drink some wine (yes, people were actually bringing back glasses of Pinot Noir from the refreshment stand), and discuss the aspects of the movie. I can see the benefit of this as I am often accosted by my wife during movies, where she prods me for such valuable nuggets as "What's going on?," "I thought he was a bad guy," and "What happened, I was sleeping." (My responses are usually, "Shh! I'll tell you later," "Ugh, he was but now he isn't, I'll explain later," and "then go to bed and watch it tomorrow." The last one only works for DVDs because I can't afford to take her to more than one movie per month.)

Of course the rain has stopped for the intermission (seriously, do we need an intermission for a mindless Mel Brooks type comedy that is only 1 hour and 45 minutes long...) only to resume immediately upon everyone taking off their ponchos and putting away their umbrellas, and the resuming of the movie. At about the hour and a half mark there was a crucial scene where the rain started to come down pretty hard. For those that have been camping in the rain you are aware of the noise that rain can cause on the tent (or umbrella for that matter); needless to say I have no clue what the actors were saying for about five minutes. I hope it wasn't too important.

The movie ended, I clapped (well, not really...I didn't want to look like a complete buffoon), and the skies cleared. We walked home without getting wet at all (seriously, the rain stopped). So to recap, a movie that was just shy of two hours took us four hours to see, and cost about twice as much as I expected. It rained during the movie, and we were exposed as bumbling Americans who can't speak much French. I'd say it was a pretty good Date Night! (The movie was pretty funny too...)

My boss has me cleaning the apartment today. The chambermaid is apparently on holiday which leaves me to put away the dishes, clean the sinks, bathrooms, vacuum, take out the recycling, and do the grocery shopping. I'm new at this so I don't know how long it will take...hopefully it all works out.

My boss is pictured at left...I was able to take her to Annecy, France this weekend for a bike ride. It is a pretty little town about an hour and a half from our place around Lake Geneva (driving through Geneva).

The weather was beautiful but I forgot to charge the camera battery so we only snapped a couple of pics. The boss almost caused an international incident when a small child lunged in front of her bicycle at full speed (the bike, not the child). Thankfully her multiple years of biking experience helped avoid disaster.

The weather here has been remarkably wonderful, with days in the low 20's C (upper 60's to lower 70's for those on the F system of temperature) and very few rain showers (usually just when we're sleeping or during work days). I am quite certain that the great weather will continue if you come visit. The picture at right is a private residence on the lake in Annecy...seems a little small.

If you want to know who just won gold, let me know...we get to find out before America does. In fact, I don't really have a clue what's going on (I'm watching, just not 'hearing'), although one of the bonuses of living internationally in a country with four official languages is the ability to watch the Olympics in languages I don't understand.

We can watch in Italian, German, Swiss German, French, and British (English), and often we can see different events if we are tired of listening to the overexcited Italian announcers or the subdued French announcers who really don't seem to care who is winning as long as there is a good glass of wine at the finish line. Today I was able to watch rowing, judo, fencing, swimming, basketball, volleyball, and gymnastics (I quickly changed the channel when I realized it was gymnastics and not midget-tossing, the newest Olympic event). Each event was on a different channel in its entirety without breaking away after five minutes for something more exciting.

It is interesting that where the world expects the Chinese to block the internet and TV (or at least control what we can watch), it is really America with the most restrictions on what we get to watch and the time (unless you can figure out that internet thing). Not that I really want to wake up at 3 in the morning to watch the 10m air pistol competition, but should I desire to watch it live I can (in Switzerland). I like being able to see the events live, as they happen rather than on taped-replay at dinner time (or heavily edited to fit my time slot). I do however miss the heartwarming stories and soliloquies by Bob Costas and Bryant Gumbel.

It is fun watching the games in a foreign language if for nothing else than to hear the American athletes names pronounced by Europeans. Lebron James is pronounced Lay-Broaun Yames, Michael Phelps is Michelle Phiilps, President Bush is Mister Booosh (I can't remember what sport the last guy plays but he seems to be in a lot of events). Did you see that photo of the President with the women's beach volleyball team? Let's just say that I'm guessing Mrs. Booosh wasn't very happy with him.

Anyway, GO USA!

(Editor's note: Each of the pictures below can be clicked to see a normal size version of the photo...I do not recommend clicking on the chambermaid picture as it may cause nightmares. In the interest of conserving space and reducing global warming, I use smaller pics in the blog below. Thank you for supporting me in caring for the environment!)

Let's begin by welcoming you to beautiful Lausanne, Switzerland (we are on the Central European time zone and we observe Daylight Savings Time...we are +1 from GMT. We realize you have a choice when traveling and we would like to thank you for choosing Mark and Alli in Switzerland as part of your vacation). Did you have a nice trip? I hope the airport connections weren't too much of a hassle for you (I know the airport in Paris is under construction, but it beats flying through Amsterdam)...yes, we'll get to the chocolate factory tour soon, but first, let me take you on a tour of our apartment.

First, let me find a parking spot since we don't have a space in the garage. Yeah, for some reason we have to park outside but it beats parking outside in Minnesota. Ooh, there's a spot right in front where that old man is trying to get away. I'll let him move before I park there so he doesn't get too worried about me accidently hitting his Renault.

That's our apartment, the pinkish-hued one on the left. What's that you say, what's across the street? Oh, that's one of three community pools. It is very nice, it has an Olympic sized pool for lap swimming, tennis courts, a kiddie pool, and a normal pool for the kiddos to jump off the high dive. The noise isn't bad at all. In fact, it closes around 7 and in the winter is turned into a skating rink so we actually haven't even noticed it at all. It's also great because all of the cars are gone by the evening and since we aren't a major road it stays pretty quiet at night.

Well, here's the grand entrance...très chic! Hang on, let me check my mail. We don't get much but sometimes there is a letter or newspaper. Nope, nothing. Ok, now I have to open the second door with my universal key (it opens everything, the mailbox, the lobby doors, my apartment door, the laundry room, the storage room...). The ways these doors open it reminds me of either a cheesy ride at Disney World in Tomorrowland or the Starship Enterprise bridge. Sulu, set coordinates for 2nd floor, my apartment!

Shall we take the stairs or the lift (that's British for the elevator)? I'm guessing the lift since you have those heavy suitcases. I sure hope you brought me some fun American treats (shameless plug). Oh yeah, in case you are riding the elevator alone, R means the Ground Floor (not sure what R stands for but I think it means "Return to the Ground Floor" but they didn't have enough room to write the whole thing), we are on 2 (which is really the third floor), and -1 takes you to the basement where the laundry room and garage are located. You can also hit the door close button and the door will close without any delay (unlike in America where you have to wait the standard 5-10 seconds to make sure the doors with the automatic sensors don't attack you while trying to enter). Now I haven't tried the door open button yet so I don't know what it does...

Ah yes, here we are, second floor (third). We just over there to the right at the top of the stairs. The button on the bottom is to turn the lights in the hallway on, which is handy as they automatically shut off after a few minutes to save electricity. The button on top is our doorbell. You'll also notice a floor mat outside the door, it is there to prevent mad cow disease from being transmitted across the threshold. Allow me to open the door (you're going to have to move your giant suitcase that appears to be leaking...did you pack ice? You know, we do have ice here it's just not well advertised. You have to ask politely and you will get a cube or two).

Well, this is the grand foyer! As you can see it's quite spacious. Feel free to hang your coat right there and I'll show you around. You can leave your bag there for now, I'll have the timid chambermaid carry it to your quarters (please note that I am also the chambermaid despite the hairdo...so pretend you have to wait thirty seconds while I move your bag to the other room...look Alli, a boy multitasking!)

Welcome to our lovely kitchen. It was handcrafted with the finest European appliances, dinnerware, utensils, pottery, and tile from IKEA-taly. I'll admit it's nice having a refrigerator that is disguised as cabinet, only it's rough if you haven't had your morning bowl of ice cream and you can't remember which cabinet you need to open to get to the spoon, and which one holds my breakfast gelato. We have a lovely table in the kitchen with seating for four, although this can be increased to six if you happen to bring your man-servant and imaginary friend along.

As you can see we have a nice living room. The couch and chairs are comfy, unfortunately we don't have a pullout sofa or we'd have sleeping (comfortable anyway, there is plenty of floor space and we have ample sleeping bags) for more than four, although shorter people may sleep comfortably on the couch (I've only napped there a few dozen times this past week but I think I cleaned up most of the drool and chips that missed my mouth). We have two lovely terraces which open up off the living room/dining room/kitchen/bedrooms. The east facing terrace is great for summer barbecuing and social gatherings with our esteemed guests (such as yourselves). I'm glad you came, while the weather is ____________ (choose one: perfect, horrible) for sitting outside, we have much to see yet so you can come back later to ___________ (choose one: enjoy the terrace, turn into a Swiss popsicle). The north terrace is really just for sneaking out in the middle of the night and banging on the door of the person sleeping in the room next to you...I suppose we could put some chairs or something out there.

Yes, the fireplace works. It is very lovely this time of year, especially when we are looking for a little ambiance (actually, Switzerland has enough...let's move on). This is where the magic happens. (not that kind of magic...geesh) As you can see it isn't much but it serves it's purpose (I really only blog for about an hour and the rest of the time I search for internet recipes, baseball/football scores and stats, political news, and activities to do on the weekend with Alli (she should be home around 6 or 7...depending on whether or not she remembered you said dinner would be ready at 6). It also serves as our French teacher, but I often find it is better suited for games of Spider Solitaire and Minesweeper.

Oh, I almost forgot...there's a powder room across the way (across the way is French for two steps from where you are currently standing; this can also be used to describe the trek from the living room to the kitchen or bedroom or to the front door...it's not a large place). That room is for use whenever the more expansive chamber is occupied. Speaking of, this is the main bathroom. A little quirk about both bathrooms is that if you turn the fan on (usually racy jokes about wind tunnels do the trick), it doesn't activate immediately. It waits a bit before deciding to oblige (the same as when you turn it off...it takes a while to get the hint). I think this is due to the electricity takes longer to get here from America. Another thing, the toilets here are a bit different. They flush differently (and I'm not referring to the ones that spray up). See that giant plastic thing on the wall there, that's the lever to flush. I understand that Europeans have trouble activating the smaller American type toilet levers due to the amount of wine consumed while brushing their teeth (they don't use Evian to brush their teeth contrary to rumors on the internet). As a result, they invented fool proof flushing levers on the wall. If you wish to quit the flush (perhaps you are still sitting there or you just weren't ready), simply press stop at any time to exit the ride. A docent will guide you away from the toilet and to the nearest exit.

Outside the main bathroom is our room. If you see the room a-rockin', please let us know as there is most likely an earthquake or the apartment is about to collapse and we would like to be the first out (bloggers first, women and children second...somebody has to write about what happened). Immediately next to our room is the room where you will be staying. For an extra fee we can ensure you have clean sheets and towels upon your arrival.

You will also notice the lovely blinds located outside the doors. These can be controlled from inside and offer you the privacy of a inside blinds without the messy cleaning (we just wait til it rains). All of the rooms have their own doors that double as windows as they must have received a buy one get four free deal at the lumberyard. When closed, you will be amazed at the lack of outside noise and airflow in summer. We tend to keep them open at night. It is a safe neighborhood with only minor problems such as speaking a little too loud after 10pm (that's right crazy French speaking people, I'm talking to you!).

That concludes our tour and being that this tour was provided by an unpaid volunteer, please feel free to tip him as you leave so he can get a normal haircut.