C.G. Jung, short breaks

Four nights of “Sonne” in Switzerland… (part five)

We woke up early on Sunday morning. I think we were both eager to get on the road and head home. I was missing the dogs and running out of clean clothes. Unfortunately, on this trip, I ate a few things that dripped… some drippings ended up on my shirts! I was also feeling eager to write and play my guitar. Lately, I’ve been doing a lot of music videos, which I find helps me maintain some serenity.

We packed up our stuff and loaded most of it in the Volvo, then went down for our last breakfast at the Sonne Hotel. On Sunday morning, it was quieter and much less crowded in the breakfast room. I guess people were sleeping in a bit.

I noticed service was a little slipshod on the last morning. No one brought us little mini smoothies, as they had on the other three mornings. The chafing dish that normally had eggs and bacon was empty. That was okay with me, but a German woman complained about it to one of the young staffers. Maybe Sunday is the day when new people learn the ropes. I noticed the friendly seasoned waiter who had taken care of us on the other mornings was a bit later coming in on Sunday.

At one point, as I was enjoying a mini cinnamon roll that I hadn’t quite finished, a young man grabbed my plate from in front of me! I was a little shocked, since that’s the kind of thing I would expect in the United States. I don’t think I’ve ever had a plate cleared in Europe before everyone at the table had finished eating. I guess there’s a first time for everything. I didn’t protest, though, because I’d had enough, and really had only wanted to taste the roll, anyway. I’d been admiring them every morning, but only tried one on the last day.

We saw the dark haired lady again on that morning, as we were finishing breakfast. Like us, she was checking out that morning. She told us she’d gone back to the cafe at the Lindt Factory and noticed that they had a “help wanted” sign up. They were strictly looking for part time help. This lady– a US citizen from Los Angeles– went up to the manager and asked to apply for the job, even though she doesn’t speak German. And they actually offered to interview her! What a go-getter!

She said that since she works for her family’s business, she can do remote work. And she likes Switzerland so much that she’d like to move there. If she has a part time job, she can establish residency. Then she started talking about apartments, and how she’d had trouble finding something in her price range that wasn’t snapped up immediately. I’m not sure if she meant short term apartments or long term ones, but I did clue her in to the Apart-Hotel Hugenschmidt, where we stayed in the summer. It’s not meant for long term renting, but she could stay for a short time and have a kitchen. It wasn’t necessarily a cheap place, but it was less expensive than the Sonne Hotel. They also have regular rooms.

I also told her about the B2 Boutique Hotel, although that’s in another part of the city, and maybe not that convenient. It has a great spa and cool library, though. That’s where we went the first time we visited Zürich in 2021.

We explained to the dark haired lady that we were in the city because Bill wants to study Jungian psychology and become an analyst. He said it was a totally new direction for him, which it is… I mean, it seems surprising that a career soldier would want to become a psychoanalyst. On the other hand, there is a real need for people like Bill to be able to relate to servicemembers who need mental health services… or even just someone to talk to who understands that life.

While we were talking, the dark haired lady spontaneously gushed about Bill and me being good people. As if she was compelled, she looked at Bill and said, “I can tell that she loves you very much.” I was taken aback, since we still didn’t even know her name. But she said she could tell there is a lot of genuine love between us. I have to say, she’s right. My mother-in-law told Bill the same thing about me. It was kind of surreal, but it’s not unusual at all for us to have surreal moments when we travel. If you’ve been reading this blog, you probably already know that!

I don’t know what to make of the dark haired lady blurting out that she can see that I love Bill. I know that I sometimes have a tendency to blurt things out– sometimes it’s things that other people are thinking, but don’t want to say out loud. Sometimes the message goes over well; sometimes it doesn’t. But it does my heart good to know that people can see that for all my faults, I do genuinely love my husband very much and want the best for him. He’s the best thing that has ever happened to me, and together, we have been so blessed to be able to enjoy many wonderful adventures. If not for Bill, I could not share these stories.

So, we said our goodbyes to the lady, and wished her luck on her plan to reside in Switzerland. I hope things turn out the right way for her. I have a strange feeling we will run into her again. This isn’t a crazy notion, either. I have a habit of running into people… sometimes I bump into folks I haven’t seen in decades. I also have a habit of meeting people who know people I know. There have even been times when I’ve met people from other continents who know people I know. So, if we run into the dark haired lady again, I won’t be surprised at all. Maybe we’ll visit the Lindt Factory again and see her in the cafe, perhaps even as an employee!

After we said goodbye to the friendly waiter who had taken care of us at breakfast every day, Bill got the rest of our stuff from the room, while I did one last check to make sure we had everything. After a quick visit the to WC, we checked out of the Sonne Hotel and mounted up. A man with a slightly Germanic accent asked if we were leaving our prime parking spot. Bill answered affirmatively, and he quickly got in his fancy gas powered SUV so he could vacate the spot he was in. It was a spot for electric vehicles. It’s just as well we were leaving, as the restaurant is going to be closed at the hotel for a couple of weeks while they renovate.

The weather was still pretty crappy as we made our way out of Zürich. I took a few shots from the car, wishing we’d ventured deeper into the city. But I have a feeling we’ll be back soon. Bill has one more interview. Last night, he had a session with his analyst, and the analyst said, “It sounds like you’re in.” I will be shocked if he doesn’t get accepted.

Sorry about the quality of these pictures…

It was relatively smooth sailing leaving Switzerland, but once we got to Germany, the weather got rainier. There was also a lot of traffic, as it was a holiday weekend in Germany (German reunification day), and lots of people were returning home. There were also transportation strikes at the airports, which probably also affected traffic. The GPS kept adding time to our estimated arrival. I think we were originally supposed to get home at about 1:30 PM (without any stops). But thanks to traffic and a rather long lunch stop, we were on the road until about 4:30!

Below are a few photos from the road trip. When the GPS alerted us to a Stau, we stopped at a place called the Schwarzwald Stube and had lunch. It was surprisingly good, although the service was pretty slow. I was glad we hadn’t gone to the very crowded McDonald’s across the street. And bonus– they had a vending machine that was selling sex aids in the ladies room!

Bill went to get Noyzi and Charlie. I wasn’t with him when he picked them up, but he said that Noyzi actually gave him a hug. He got on his hind legs and wrapped his forelegs around Bill’s waist. Charlie was running around all excited to see “dad” again. They were glad to go to the Birkenhof… and they were just as glad to come home.

So ends my commentary about our latest trip to Switzerland. Bill is going to go to Bavaria next week, and he’ll be gone for three weeks, so this blog may get a bit boring… or maybe not. It might be time for a few culture posts.

Anyway… I’ll try to wrap this up with my usual “ten things I learned” post, either today or tomorrow. Stay tuned!

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adventure, C.G. Jung, Education

Swiss Studies… A surreal dinner among strangers with stories (part six)

By Thursday morning in Switzerland, I was feeling ready to get back to Germany. I missed Noyzi and Charlie, and there were people in the apartment above us who were driving me nuts. In the early mornings, I’d hear a baby squalling. I’m not sure if it was in the above apartment, or a different place, but it was pretty loud.

Then, within an hour, the “wrestling matches” commenced. I call them “wrestling matches”, because that’s pretty much what they sounded like. I’d hear the pitter patter of little feet, then a big “BOOM” as something hit the floor or thudded, HARD. It happened over and over again.

It was nervewracking, because I couldn’t predict when the noises would happen, and they would startle me. Then, I would get annoyed until the cycle repeated. And it would go on for hours. I thought about saying something, but I didn’t know where the people were from, or if they spoke English.

So, I slathered on more sunscreen, gathered up my stuff, and headed back to beautiful Lake Zürich, for some peace and quiet. Well, at least I thought it was more peaceful… and honestly, it probably was quieter, even though there was construction going on in the lake and near it. There were also cool breezes.

I don’t actually recall much about what I did during the day on Thursday. Nothing sticks out in my mind. I do remember coming back in the afternoon, trying to read, and once again falling asleep, as I waited for Bill. But something DID happen on Thursday night at dinner.

When Bill got back to the apartment, we decided to go to the Greek restaurant again, Le Beaujolais. The same friendly guy waited on us. He asked us where we wanted to sit, and I chose a table next to the building. It was dirty, so he had to bus it for us. We sat down and Bill ordered some white wine. I ordered gyros, and he chose souvlaki.

We hadn’t been sitting there long before a group of young Swiss folks showed up. They sat at the table right behind us. Within the group, there was one woman, in particular, whom I found very annoying. She spoke in rapid fire Swiss style German, in a voice that grated.

Under normal circumstances, I probably wouldn’t have been as irritated as I was, but I’d been listening to dull, sudden thuds all day in the apartment. I was hot, and recovering from boredom, missing my own space, and the peace and quiet I have in my home. I also missed my desktop computer, because that’s the best place for me to write and make music.

So, the woman kept yammering in her Swiss dialectical German, and then she switched to English, when another person joined their group. I was trying to keep a straight face and get through dinner. And then, it happened…

In front of the restaurant, there was a very busy main drag. Trams go up and down that street every few minutes. There were also many cars coming and going, and people walking past. But, all of a sudden, the street seemed to empty out, and this man in a luxury sedan stopped right by where we were eating. There were no cars near him at all. His window was down, and he was playing loud music. It sounded like Louis Armstrong (Satchmo). The guy either lip synched perfectly, or sang along, complete with facial expressions and hand movements. It was like he was performing “When It’s Sleepy Time Down South” especially for us!

We all kind of stopped what we were doing and stared in amazement as this random guy in his car was singing to us… with loud Louis Armstrong blaring from his windows. It lasted for about one surreal minute, and he wasn’t interrupted by traffic of any kind. Some pedestrians gave him a quizzical look as they passed.

I heard the people sitting behind us murmuring, and suddenly I felt like we were all experiencing this weird, bizarre moment in time. Then I heard the annoying woman behind me say in English, “Now he’s going to want money.”

But just as suddenly as it started, it was then over. The guy rolled up his window and drove away, and traffic returned to normal. It was as if it had never happened. I wish I’d thought to take a picture or a video. He didn’t seem to want money. In fact, the whole thing seemed like a spontaneous act. For all I know, he does this every summer day, serenading random al fresco diners as he drives through Zürich. Maybe he just does it for his own amusement, to break up the monotony of life in such an orderly country. I did look on YouTube to see if anyone had caught him on video. Apparently no one has, yet. Or maybe I’m just using the wrong search terms.

Then, just as we were about to have a round of ouzo, the woman sitting behind us started telling a story in English about her brother, when he went into the Swiss Army. He’d forgotten his toothbrush, so his mother had to bring it to him. As she was telling the story, a man with a dog was passing. He came over and, although he was obviously a stranger to them, started a conversation. He’d heard the woman talking about her brother in the Swiss Army, and decided to tell the group about how he’d joined the Israeli Army and everything was provided, including toothbrushes.

The guy’s dog, a sweet, older, female, plopped down next to the talkative woman, and he told them (and us) about how he’d been a performer in the Israeli Army, and it had led him to Switzerland. He met his Swiss wife in Zürich, and worked in the arts there for many years. He said he’d been working as a clown, at one point. And he said his dog’s name was Gille (if I recall correctly). He said the name meant “comfort” in Hebrew, and added that she is a comfort to him.

Bill and I sat there quietly, not actively involved in the conversation, yet passively involved in that we were hearing it. Bill could have piped up, too, as a 30 year Army veteran from the United States. I could have spoken up and talked about how I have my own performances as a singer. But nowadays, it’s hard to tell how people will react to the revelation that Americans are near. I’m sure they knew we were Americans, anyway. Bill has told me that it’s easy to work with soldiers from other countries because, when it comes down to it, they’re all mostly cut from the same cloth, doing the same job.

Still, it was a very weird evening… surreal, even. As annoyed as I had been with that woman sitting behind us, I suddenly felt like she’d given us a gift. Because she was engaging the guy from Israel, and allowing us to hear his story.

Stay tuned for the next installment, when I describe visiting the C.G. Jung Institute and seeing where Bill might soon be a student.

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