I was staying in Zurich (emphasis on the rich) which is built around an enormous lake. You can see the other side of the lake but it’s so long that it stops being Zurich before the lake finishes. I was glad to be near some water as it was still damn hot. The first morning I was there I headed down to the lake but could find no good places to swim. It appears that Zurich was a property developers wet dream in the eighties and they promptly splodged all over the shoreline. Virtually all of it consists of little marinas and private houses which stretch into the hills on either side. They’ve even built little pool complexes which simply portion off a section of the lake and charge an entry fee to keep rabble out. I eventually took a train until I struck farmland and there I found the farmers paddling in one of the few free beaches. It was lovely water but the stones were a bit hard on the feet.
Zurich is an exceptionally lovely city. I didn’t realise it would be so beautiful but I guess being neutral in wars has the benefit of keeping those old buildings. The water in the river that feeds the lake and a couple of canals is an amazing clear green and the sun twinkling off this and a couple of swans floating by helped to soothe my raging mind. There was also a little park at the top of Zurich which had a cool breeze and comfy deck chairs so I plonked my ass down and took in the atmosphere. It’s the kind of town that exudes money. In fact I don’t think poor people even bother coming here but it was good for a visit. The other major attraction of the city were all the drinking fountains that just keep bubbling out cold mountain water.
On my last day in Switzerland I headed to true mountain country by taking the train up to Interlaken, which is in the middle of Switzerland. The scenery has to be seen to be believed. I couldn’t conjure up the platitudes to do it justice and I’m sure they’ve all turned into clichés anyway. Let’s just say they mountains were sheer and enormous and the lakes had an almost radioactive luridness.
I took the train down from Zurich to Chur and on to St. Moritz with the intention of coming into Italy. If you ever have the chance I would recommend the train ride from St. Moritz to Tirano. It trundles up and down about 2000 metres passing a 4000 metre mountain which was covered with snow and in the height of summer. I arrived in north Italy to a terrific deluge and suffered a heated train with no open windows to the heaving shitropolis and subject of my next email – Milan.
Dave out.
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