Featured photo was taken yesterday from our balcony at Les Trois Rois…
Several weeks ago, Bill and I were sitting at our dining room table, listening to music, drowning our sorrows, and worrying about the future. I realized Martin Luther King, Jr. weekend was coming up, and that MLK day would be the day Donald Trump invaded the White House once again. I am not a Trump fan by any means, and I am truly worried about the damage he’s about to wreak on the world. So, with that in mind, I told Bill I wanted to try to visit as many places as possible before we get kicked out of Europe.
I’m only half kidding about the prospect of being kicked out of Europe. I fear it could be a real possibility, as Trump takes revenge on anyone “important” who has ever crossed him and pisses off our allies. I resent the hell out of this, by the way. No American signed up to be used as a pawn for an unhinged, demented narcissistic sociopath to get even with others. I despise Trump, and I don’t want him influencing any part of my life. But I’m also a realist. I know that he has power I’ll never have. So… we’re going to try to be as normal as possible for as long as possible. It’s normal for us to travel.
Last April, Bill and I visited Horben, near Freiburg, a lovely city in southern Germany. We went there after it won our traditional coin toss. The losing city was Basel, Switzerland, where I had discovered a beautiful looking hotel right on the Rhein River. The hotel, called Les Trois Rois, appeared to have most of everything we love in a luxury property, including a three star Michelin restaurant called Cheval Blanc. Bill and I had long been wanting to try the elite cuisine one finds at Michelin restaurants with three stars. But last April, Basel lost the coin toss… and then in the fall, when I hoped we could visit, they didn’t have availability for one of the nights we needed.
Finally, as MLK weekend approached, we decided it was time to, at long last, visit Basel, a Swiss city right next to the German and French borders. We’ve been trying to get there for a long time, but always seem to end up in other places. Not this time. A little Swiss neutrality was just the ticket, just as it was in 1930s and 40s Europe. So we booked a Queen balcony room with a river view at Les Trois Rois, and quickly decided that instead of driving, we’d take the train.
Taking the train was mostly a great idea. I’ll get more into why it was only “mostly” a great idea as this series progresses. For now, I’ll just say that overall, taking the train was the best thing to do, but it wasn’t without its problems.
Bill also booked us a table at a really interesting restaurant called Alchemist, which is located just steps away from Les Trois Rois. He picked it because of its unusual concept. I’m glad he did that, even if the food was not generally what I’d generally seek out for myself.
We knew Basel would have art galleries and museums, and we did have a chance to visit one very extensive museum, which I’ll write about as this series progresses. I hope you’ll stick around, as I try to distract myself from the new order taking over Washington, DC. Switzerland is a good place to be, but especially when one needs a semblance of sanity to prevail. I think we got that in Basel over the weekend. I hope we can go back again someday.
Stay tuned for part two!
It’s almost impossible for me to hide my contempt and disgust not just for Trump, his enablers and sycophants in the Republican Party, but also for everyone who voted for Donald Trump…whatever the reasons may have been. I had a hard time yesterday with my mood; as someone who studied journalism, part of me wanted to know what was going on in DC throughout the day. Most of me, of course, did not. I’d rather spend time working on my novel (a project that I see both as a labor of love AND a fool’s errand, but it keeps me sane nonetheless) than waste a single brain cell and listen to FOTUS take an oath he won’t keep and watch his MAGA cultists celebrate on national TV.
I lived with a MAGA “roommate” (we actually lived on opposite ends of the house) for 10 months in New Hampshire, and although we didn’t quarrel over politics, I still had to move back to Miami mostly because he didn’t want me there….or, at least, he didn’t want me to comply by the state of New Hampshire’s rules about eligibility for public assistance. He was fine with me as a person (even though I’m a “lib” and he’s a Trumpie), but he didn’t want me on the lease so he could tell the state Department of Health and Human Services that he paid more in rent than he actually did.
I must point out that he was incredibly passive-aggressive, albeit in a subtle way. He knew, for instance, that I couldn’t walk to the mailboxes because it was much too long a distance, yet he only started bringing my mail along with his (he has a moped) ONLY when he knew I was moving back to Miami. He even admitted, “Yeah, I coulda brought your mail in, but I didn’t because I’m an asshole.” (True story, down to the quote.)
He also made me turn down my music on my PC (a mix of classical, film scores, and Big Band era swing tunes) when I worked in my writing room, while HE played his music full blast when he knew I was writing or trying to “socialize” on social media. I got in the habit of using a headset, even though sometimes my headphones either feel uncomfortable or the cord gets in the way of my typing.
I could have overlooked his political leanings, and indeed, I was able to avoid getting into discussions about Trump or Harris/Biden for much of my 10-month sojourn in Madison. But what I could not abide with, aside from his desire to get me off the lease, were:
1. His hypocrisy about being a “law and order” conservative whilst trying to scam the state’s DHHS
2. His pro-Hitler, Holocaust-denying version of World War II
3. His disrespect toward anyone who’s not MAGA
I hated moving out. I had to leave a lot of my books behind because we have not as much space here, something that I’ve made my peace with since October, but still. And the move was hyperexpensive (because of my rescuers’ itinerary, which I had no hand in planning). I might have grown to love New Hampshire over time, you know. But…aside from secondary frustrations I had, the MAGA roomie was 97.9% responsible for my decision to accept living with a high school acquaintance and his family in my hometown.
Trump and his followers, hopefully, won’t last forever. And I hope that the isolationists and other idiots don’t get us kicked out of Europe, either.