Okay, so maybe this move to Switzerland could have been smoother. But honestly now, does any of it really matter? There are people out there with real problems, so today I’m all about being grateful for what’s right in my new corner of the world.
Sure, our apartment is small and apparently lacking in any kind of soundproofing, but with windows grand in scale and many in number, it’s filled with Swiss sunshine (same as Canadian sunshine only more expensive). And yes, the bathroom is small but the water pressure is strong enough to blast the grit and grime right off me. I’ve decided that will compensate for the pink tiles, however the one toilet issue remains an ever present threat to the marriage.
The whined about cuisine is finally finished and it scores a 10 on the snazzy scale—granite counters, shiny new Miele appliances, a swanky sink with sprayer and integrated soap dispenser, even a utility cupboard with a built in thingy for vacuum storage. It’s all very high-end, so I’ll probably forgive the landlord for making me wait for it. The washer and dryer are stacked in a corner in there as well, which means for once in my life I will be required to enter this strange and magical place called … kitchen.
So far, 700 square feet seems to be holding one giraffe and one Big Red with minimal bloodshed but to be fair these are early days. What our apartment here on Avenue de La Paix (from this day forward to be called the Peace Palace) lacks in space, it more than makes up for in location. There are two fantastic grocery stores, an absolutely beautiful pharmacy, a promising looking gym and physiotherapy clinic, the previously mentioned Chinese restaurant, several bakeries, a train station, a post office, and a lake called Geneva all within a 5 minute walk from our front door. And a mere 20 minute lakeside stroll away, the gorgeous market and all the shops and services of Vevey, including a swishy Swiss department store, are found in fine form.
In fact, there are endless petite perks here at the Palace. The cable TV brings not only football (for hooligan husband) but also a vast number of music stations (for anti-hooligan wife) and the internet is lightning fast compared to the ‘speed’ of connectivity in Semur. Also, I’ve graduated from a tiny deskette squeezed on a landing to a substantial desk in a sunny corner of the living room. Of course my story is that I’m a fancy-pants published author deserving of a proper space for her craft. The fact that Neil’s office is far too small to house the gorgeous desk for grown-ups is totally beside the point.
But my friends I’ve saved the best for last. For those who’ve read the blook: anyone remember the the last line? For those who haven’t bought a copy, Christ almighty, just do it already. This freeloading lifestyle of mine isn’t going to pay for itself. Anyway, if you remember the missing ingredient for a joyful life, there are two plastic containers in my fridge, two tiny pots that complete me. Sour cream. Switzerland, you had me at hello.