The land of 3

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Switzerland. Surprising. German, Italian, French and its own persona at once. The sum is somehow greater than its parts.

I didn’t know what to expect, having only bought a D&K picturesque travel guide five hours before the flight. Reading about it on the plane, I realized I didn’t have any firm grounding, interest or knowledge about Switzerland, beyond Heidi’s long braids, and my cliché run for the border several years ago while living illegally in Italy.

It was not until we had stepped off the plane in Zurich that I understood we were in German-Swiss land. Ja wohl! I was “home.” Typical signs of my heritage: orderliness, cleanliness and subtle aloofness. We towed our luggage (extra heavy due to our ice skates, of course) through airport corridors straight to train carriages, as we spontaneously decided to spend the weekend in Baden.

"Baden", land of thermal “baden”, or, steaming mineral hotspring baths. The private ones were booked, but I think we had all the better of experience at the public baths.

Check them out at: http://www.thermalbaden.ch/ (it may look like any inground pool to you, but not once you're in...aaaaah)

You can choose: hot springs inside or outside. You can’t choose the attire, however: all must be costumed. I see the Swiss are a bit conventional still, demanding “no nudity except in sauna.” Whatever.

Julien and I braved the outdoor wintry bath first, observing the locals for etiquette. The water was something quite special. This body should know. We tried the indoor pool on for size as well - as they had built-in chaise lounges just under the waterline around the pool. Returning to the outdoor pool as the night blue sky settled in, we observed the locals more closely, determined to get to the bottom of a strange system we hadn't been able to figure out earlier.

You see, in the outdoor pool, every 3-4 minutes there was a warehouse forklift beep accompanied by a likewise industrial flashing orange light (think K-mart blue light specials). With the neighborhood evening crowds arriving, we caught on to the rotation around the perimeter of the bath…as people inched closer to the sacred middle whirlpool. At which point, we realized we had earlier clearly breached the beep and gone straight in. No one had but blinked, how gracious they were with our tourist bumble.

Once in the whirlpool, I held onto the metal bars, laid my head back, and let the minerals do their magic. As I surveyed the hilly landscape, I couldn't help but wonder what famous characters had preceded me, or even what ancestors for that matter.

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Photos

Ooh-la-la!/ Buono!/ Toll!
Any way you wanna say it, this chocolate shop rocked.

Rags to riches
While we have Bergdorf-Goodman, every window is something spectacular here. French design, Italian raciness and German engineering. And Swiss class. As what may look like a sex shop, this is a very upscale department store.

Vague familiarity
Shabby Venice? Sportif Munich? Miniature Paris? There's something oddly familiar and yet foreign around every corner.