Swiss summer of soccer

Oops. So it's September and it's my first post of the year. What can I say? After nearly four years of living in Switzerland, things here have now just become part of, well, life.

There are still new things to observe though - I just don't always find the time or inclination to post. It's the same with food, over at the Empress Eats. I've cooked a bit this year, but haven't posted.

But it's the end of summer, so let me catch you up on a couple of things. First, the summer itself. Actually, no - go back six months to winter. This was my fourth winter in Geneva and it was the mildest one yet. It had shades of my first winter, when there was no snow. There was snow in the mountains, thankfully (especially for Emperor D who decided to take up snow boarding), but otherwise there was one pathetic attempt at snow for about half an hour in Geneva in early February and that was it. It didn't even get cold! I was home having Christmas in Australia and remember seeing the Geneva forecast for Christmas Day, when they predicted an unseasonably warm 16C. I don't remember it getting colder than about 5C during the day all winter.

I guess because the Weather Gods thought we didn't get a winter, we shouldn't get a summer, either. This summer has been one of the coolest I can remember. I've been swimming in the lake each summer I've been here but this summer I haven't been once; granted, I was back in Australia for a conference and have been away, but otherwise it hadn't been warm enough. I don't think it's been above 26C!!

Even the bins on the street go World Cup mad

More on summer, and this year it was the World Cup. I've always loved the World Cup, and especially when I'm in Europe for it. I travelled through Europe when the World Cup was on in Germany in 2006; I still remember drinking beer in the summer sun with hoards of Czechs in Old Town Square in Prague and being out on the streets of Amsterdam with the crazy, orange-wearing Dutch.

During the month-long soccer fest, I came to understand two things about Switzerland: one, that it really is a melting pot of nationalities - flags from every team in the tournament were flying from apartment buildings and houses all over the country. Two, that people in Switzerland are soccer mad. I mean, they get really passionate. They sit on the edge of their seats and scream with joy or despair as a goal is scored either for or against their team. Everything becomes about football and the World Cup. There's advertising and promotions everywhere; even the bins on the streets of Geneva became sideline (sidewalk?) Swiss supporters!

And then you could listen to or see a curious post-match spectacle I hadn't witnessed before - the ritual of winning team supporters jumping in their cars and doing bog laps through the streets of town, constantly honking their horns in celebration. Just before the World Cup started, I read an article in 20 Minutes (commuter newspaper) that talked about how the police in each canton would let people "blow off steam and celebrate" for up to an hour after matches. I wondered what they were on about; with some matches ending at 1am, I'm glad the cops put a cap of an hour afterwards.

Hangover: A World Cup promotional flag
still flies in September

The Swiss themselves - ever known for being quiet and conservative - come into their own when their national pride is on the line, becoming every bit as noisy and exuberant as the Spanish or the French. Except when they got knocked out of the competition (in extra time by runners-up Argentina in the Round of 16); the mood the day after their defeat there was palpable despondency.

But beside that, Geneva is no different to anywhere else in Europe during a World Cup; people are keen to escape work early and pack the bars, pubs and outdoor cafes, all within viewing distance of a TV. Even though the party was nearly 9,000kms away, there was definitely a festive atmosphere in the city, making the summer - what there was of it - so much more vibrant and fun.

Canton Vaud, home of the rich and famous - and me

Before moving to Switzerland, I always knew the country and its inhabitants were wealthy. That it was the land of low tax rates and attracted the rich and famous. But reading an article recently, I was surprised just how many famous people called Switzerland home. Tina Turner lives near Zurich. Roger Federer lives near Basel. But it seems to be canton Vaud, the canton that I call home, that seems to be the most popular.

Canadian singer Shania Twain lives near Vevey (also the home of Nestlé),
Ikea's Ingvar Kamprad
singing legend Phil Collins lives about a 20 minute drive away, while former F1 driver Michael Schumacher lives in Gland, the next town over. Ingvar Kamprad, the founder and owner of Ikea, is actually the richest person living in Switzerland and lives in a modest house near Lausanne. Most exciting of all is that I've heard rumours that none other than George Clooney has a residence in Switzerland with a 1260 post code - my post code. George Clooney could have a house in my neighbourhood! 

Aside from celebrities living in the neighbourhood, the signs of serious wealth and privilege are around. At nearly $100,000 per year, the most expensive school in the world, Le Rosey, is just up the road in Rolle. It educates the children of the seriously rich, celebrities and royalty. 

Down along the lake, and up in the foothills of the Jura, sits the nice houses and sprawling estates of these people, living in quiet anonymity. Sheltered from view behind thick trees and high walls, you only get a sense of the luxurious scale of these places from a plane as it comes down the lake, getting ready to land at Geneva airport. I always like to grab a window seat on that side of the plane since it's the only way I get to see how the one percent live. 

Nyon and Geneva also put on a bit of a luxury car show each weekend, with the latest model Ferrari, Bentley, Aston Martin and Maserati cars out in town. And Geneva has no shortage of high end jewellery stores either. Got a penchant for diamonds? Bulgari, Chopard, De Beers can sort you out. Have a taste for fine clothes and accessories? Gucci and Hermes will help sort you out. 

But expensive cars, shops and the rich and famous aside, Switzerland is just like any other normal country. Not having millions of Swiss francs in the bank doesn't mean life here can't be enjoyed - the simple pleasures here are free or affordable. I guess having the wealth which many in the country enjoy simply makes things a little easier. While that kind of money wouldn't hurt, there's little to complain about the quality of life here.

Tour de Switzerland

It's coming up nearly two years since I arrived in Switzerland. And it flies by pretty quickly. There's been quite a bit I've come to like about this country - in fact, you can see a list here - one of which I have no hesitation in saying is Switzerland's proximity to everywhere else in Europe. In fact, it was one of the first things I wrote about. Jump on a train three hours north-west and find yourself in Paris; three hours south-east you'll end up saying buongiorno in Milan; and two hours' flight will take you pretty much anywhere in Europe. 

But I haven't really seen much of Switzerland itself. Living in one of Europe's most beautiful countries - and one that has some of the continent's most recognisable icons - that's rather sad.  So, much as I will always be willing to jump on a plane or train and venture outside of Switzerland's borders, I've recently decided to turn that around and see what Switzerland has to offer. 

And what an offering. I had long wanted to see perhaps the most instantly recognisable mountain on Earth - the Matterhorn. However to make the trip worthwhile - it's a bit of schlep, taking two trains and nearly four hours from Nyon - it's best to pick a clear day. 

A mountain that needs no introduction

We had a long weekend in September with fine weather, so after making sure that the weather at the Matterhorn was fine and clear - thanks to the magic of webcams - we headed for Zermatt, the famous ski town at the base of the mountain. Although traditionally a ski resort town, more associated with powder snow and freezing temperatures, Zermatt in late summer nonetheless buzzes with tourists and, of course, hard core Swiss hikers. 

After arriving in Zermatt, we walked through the town in a state of anticipated excitement - where's the Matterhorn? We round a bend in one of the pedestrian-only streets of the village - and there it stood, in its majestic, iconic, postcard picture-like beauty. 

Taking a series of cable cars from the village, we head up for the mountains. I'd never been to the mountains above Zermatt at all, let alone in winter - though that's another goal for another day - but seeing it summer was a strange experience. The landscape in the high mountains, bare of snow, was almost moon-like - grey, rocky, devoid of vegetation. 

The Alps from the summit of the Klein Matterhorn

After taking a couple of cable cars up ever higher, we take the last one for the end of the line - the top of the Klein Matterhorn (Little Matterhorn). With the summit at nearly 4,000m above sea level, it's the highest point on land I've ever been. standing on the summit is an awesome experience; the Matterhorn itself so close you can almost touch it, with cloud billowing off the warm face of the Italian side of the Matterhorn. To its left, the high peaks of the Alps roll off as far as the eye can see. I'm halfway to heaven and it's an experience I'll never forget. 

Back down to earth, and a few days later we're heading for Bern, Switzerland's capital. Bern is a little like some of the world's other capitals; the seat of a country's power, it's famous for being the capital - and not much else. Comparisons with Washington DC and Canberra in Australia spring to mind. 

It's not my first visit to the Swiss capital - that was on a miserable Sunday in winter earlier last year, and was a bit of a disaster. Horrible, cold, wet weather, and - being a Sunday - nothing open and nothing to do. I wasn't in a hurry to go back, so when Emperor D suggested we visit Bern on a Saturday at the end of summer, I was surprised - but after hesitating, decided to give Bern another chance. 

The River Aare coasts past Bern

I'm glad I did. While it will never meet the verve (well, for Switzerland) of Zurich or even Geneva, it is a pleasant city that's lively enough on a Saturday afternoon in summer. The old part of the town is gorgeous, with cobblestone streets, and Swiss chocolate box architecture. The River Aare that circumnavigates it, is a brilliant ceylon sapphire blue, with a fast-running current. Even on a day that struggled to get out of the 20s in temperature, it looked inviting enough; on a hot day in high summer, I can only imagine how packed it must get. 

We ended the day by coming across a small, pop-up rock concert in a terraced park by the river, not far from the train station. We took in local acts - some good, some truly awful - belting out rock tunes with English lyrics on the top of a bus while enjoying a pint of beer or a glass of wine. It wasn't a side of Bern that I expected to see, but I was nonetheless glad to see it, since it made me realise that first impressions don't always last. 

Then, during October, with autumn in full swing, we headed for the UNESCO heritage-listed terraced vineyards of the Lavaux region, at the top of Lake Geneva. Lavaux is famous for its vineyards and the wines that it produced from their grapes; it’s supposed to be particularly beautiful in autumn as the vines change colour.

Terraced vineyards of Lavaux

A group of us headed for the tiny lakeside village of Lutry, just east of Lausanne. From there we took a tourist train through the Lavaux region – the best way to see them – where we could see the vines marching up the hills in glorious autumn shades of yellow, orange and red. At the end of the trip, back in Lutry, we headed back up into the Lavaux vineyards where we eventually found a couple of bottles of local wines (self-service; very trusting of the Swiss with alcohol involved!), some disposable wine glasses and, finding a picnic table, sat down and soaked up the late Sunday afternoon autumn sun, with a couple of glasses of wine and a great view of the lake and the Alps. Happy times.

Heading back down the hill to catch the train back was an interesting experience, especially after a couple of glasses of wine and feeling a little on the light-headed side. With us in danger of missing the train and the next one not another for half an hour, and with the road down being too far away and winding, we took a shortcut – through the vineyards themselves. They are terraced, so getting down wasn’t too bad, but it did make for an adventurous end to the day trying to find our way through the vineyards, and ending up in someone’s backyard. I’m sure that’s not the first time that’s happened to them.

I’m glad I’ve got out and seen more of the country. I’ve been to Zurich as well in the last couple of weeks, but there’s still so much more to see. So, when in Switzerland, go and see her – she’s got a lot to offer.

$witzerland

This is a post I've been meaning to write for a long time, but now I've been compelled to. Long before I moved to Switzerland, I knew it was an expensive place. Perth, where I'm from, is also pretty expensive; in fact, it lies just outside the top 10 of the world's most expensive cities. (Geneva is ranked 3rd.) So when I first moved, I didn't really notice too much of a difference.

But gradually, you do notice things. Rent for my nice, but very small, apartment is 30% of my decent salary. Public transport is pretty efficient and reliable - most of the time - but it comes at a price.

Meat - which I've discussed before on my Empress Eats blog - is also outrageously expensive. So expensive in fact, that people who live within 50 kilometres of a border will travel into France, Germany or Italy to stock up on it - and try not to get caught by Swiss customs on the way home to avoid paying the tax on it. People closer to the borders will regularly do their grocery shopping over the border as well, saving as much as 40%. I found it amusing when I read an article recently saying the major Swiss grocery chains are going to start closing stores because people are going elsewhere.

Travel abroad and you start to notice it even more. I've been to London a few times now and regularly stock up on goods at often half the price. Last weekend, I bought a pair of Doc Marten shoes in Paris for CHF 50 cheaper than I could in Switzerland. 

Better off buying Esprit in the US

The US is where you really notice the difference. Last year I went to New York on a bit of a shopping spree. Walking into Esprit, the vast price difference is there in black and white. The price tag has the prices of the same garment in different countries. Price of a shirt in the US - US$29.50. Price in Switzerland - CHF 49.90. So what, you say - they're different currencies. True - until you covert the price in Swiss francs to US dollars and realise that the same garment in Switzerland costs US$55.

So what compelled me to write now on a topic that's been bothering me for months? Health insurance. Private health insurance in Switzerland - unlike in Australia, where it's considered ideal to have - is obligatory. You don't have health insurance in Switzerland and you're in big trouble.

Thing is, health insurance here is expensive - really expensive. At home, we paid just over $100 a month for top level cover. It coved everything. Here, we pay four times as much for virtually no coverage at all. Our current premium is CHF 425 per month (roughly the same equivalent in Aus $). Late last year, I went to an ordinary doctor for a 15 minute appointment that wasn't covered under my insurance plan and received a bill in the mail three weeks later for over CHF 200. A month ago, I badly cut my finger and ended up seeing a doctor three times, including having stitches put in, and then later removed. I haven't received that bill yet and I think I'll need to make sure I'm lying down when I get it.

So I was apoplectic with rage when I opened a letter from my health insurer yesterday saying our premium is going up to CHF 836 per month, nearly double. Double! At least I can change insurers, but the reality is that I will still need to pay four times the price for one tenth of the coverage I get back home.

I understand that Switzerland is expensive. Salaries compensate for it. Or maybe it's a chicken and the egg thing; maybe prices are expensive because everyone is paid well and tax is low so there needs to be at least one catch.

Whatever it is, I've learnt over the last year to not get too caught up in the price of things here. I no longer compare things to prices back home. And I now automatically look outside of Switzerland for goods that I know will be expensive here.

Maybe Switzerland needs to take a look at itself and ask whether charging such exorbitant prices is justified. Either that, or legally change the country's name to $witzerland. At least that would serve a warning to people.

The hardest thing about living in Switzerland

I've learnt a very sobering lesson in the last week. I learnt that the hardest thing about living in Switzerland is not trying to learn a new language, or trying to meet new friends, or coming to grips with the Swissness of things, or even the Swiss themselves. The hardest thing about living in Switzerland is the family you leave behind.

Late last week, back in Australia where I'm now writing this, I attended the funeral of my father-in-law, Joe. He was one of the kindest, warmest men you could ever meet; he was also generous almost to a fault. He had been ill when I landed the job that took us to Switzerland; concerned about leaving him, we thought about not going. He wouldn't hear of it. Selfless to the last, he insisted we go, saying he was so excited for us to have such an adventure.

His health had deteriorated over the last few months, but nonetheless we weren't expecting the call we got early in the morning ten days ago telling us to come home immediately. Then, later the same day, we received the news that he'd gone. And we were still in Switzerland.

Trying to get flights home was a nightmare, with holidays starting in Europe and ending in Australia. Once we were back here though, I started to process it all. And an overwhelming sense of guilt was the prevailing feeling. Guilt that I hadn't been able to say goodbye; guilt that I had taken my husband far away from his father.

That's the risk of living so far away from home - that the farewell at the airport could turn out to be farewell forever.

But I wouldn't change moving to Switzerland; life goes on. Joe gave us his blessing, and for that, I'm eternally grateful. Thanks Joe - for everything. Riposa in pace.

Six months in Switzerland and what have I learned?

It’s now July, and it’s been six months since I arrived in Switzerland. And how quickly it has gone by – it seems only yesterday I got off the plane and took my first look about me in my new city. A mild winter with no snow has changed into a surprisingly sometimes hot, humid summer. I’ve learnt some French. Made some friends. Seen a little bit of the country.

But what else have I learnt? What have I come to love about my new country, and what would I willingly change? Here’s a list of loves and loathes…

Love

The mountains

Each day, especially on clear days when you can see Mont Blanc, Europe’s highest mountain, I’m awestruck by the beauty and grandeur of the Alps and the Jura. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing them.

Loathe

Hard-to-find and expensive housing

Geneva is terrible when it comes to affordable housing – it doesn’t have any. Although I love our apartment, it’s tiny and the rent is a third of my monthly salary (which is not uncommon) – and it isn’t even in Geneva.

Love

The transport system

So an early post of mine complained about the trains, but honestly the Swiss rail network is one of the best in the world. They’re fast, clean, go to all corners of Switzerland, and are – usually – efficient.

Loathe

Expensive and hard-to-find food

A recent post for the Empress Eats, my food blog, sums it up. Food, especially meat, can be very expensive and I’ve found it hard to find some ingredients I take for granted at home. Not great when you write a food blog.

Love

Being in the middle Europe

This is not necessarily a bad reflection on Switzerland, but after living in Perth – one of the most isolated cities in the world – I love how being in the middle of Europe means you can travel anywhere in no time and often for next to no money.

Loathe

Expensive health insurance

Things that are expensive is becoming a theme, but it’s little wonder when you move from the 13^th most expensive city in the world to the 9^th most expensive. Health insurance in particular is nasty – I pay four times as much for less than half the coverage I got back home.

Love

Pretty towns; my pretty town of Nyon

Pretty towns

Switzerland is very pretty. Geneva is very pretty. Nyon is very pretty. With soaring mountains, beautiful blue lakes and rolling green hills, it helps to become endeared to a new place when it’s aesthetically pleasing to live in.

Loathe

Crap, expensive restaurants

I’ve recently been told that, per capita, Geneva has the most restaurants in the world. I’m yet to find one that I would give a glowing review to. The food is not that great, and, of course, it’s also expensive.

Love

The history

Switzerland is nearly 800 years old, having been founded in 1291. That makes for some very old towns complete with cobblestones, stone forts and city walls, and imposing chateaus. Coming from a country that is not even 250 years old, that is pretty impressive.

Loathe

Not being able to speak the language

Well, this is actually our fault, but not being able to speak the language is pretty frustrating; in fact, it’s what Emperor D dislikes the most about living here. It’s very hard to make friends and even just understand what’s going on when you don’t speak French.

Love

The melting pot of nationalities

I’ve met people from all over the world while living here, and it’s a real pleasure to converse and find out if someone from South Africa, or Malaysia, or the UK or US has the same perspective on life in Switzerland as I do. Plus, despite the loathe above about crap restaurants, you get a variety in the cuisine here that I don’t get at home.

Loathe

The smoking

I’ve written about this in a previous post, but honestly, the smoking here is atrocious. Dodging cigarette smoke here gets you a good workout. The sad thing – since posting in mid-March I have seen just one quit-smoking ad, and it was in a cinema just over a week ago.

Love

The weather

Typical cold, (almost) snowy winters were to be expected, but I’ve been pleasantly surprised by summer – consistently warm, with some days hot enough to go for a swim; humid with frequent thunderstorms (which I love); sunny more often than not. There are worse places in Europe to live for the weather – summer in Scotland, anyone?

So they are the things I’ve discovered about Switzerland after six months of living here. It’s had its down moments, but surprisingly I haven’t once wanted to go back home. I thought I would have been a lot more homesick than I am – in fact, I haven't felt homesick at all. Sure, there are a lot of things back home that I miss – friends, family, the familiarity of it all – but it’s the lack of familiarity here that I relish. It’s a challenge to get out of your comfort zone and start life all over again. It’ll be interesting to see how much this list will have changed in another six months’ time. Keep an eye out for it!

Life's a beach in Switzerland

Yes, Switzerland has beaches. Seems quite remarkable for a landlocked country where the nearest coastline is 250 kms away. But today I needed a beach to swim at. It's been pretty hot here the last few days, with today the hottest day of the year so far, reaching 35C (that's 95F for my Imperial system friends). As an Australian who's used to the odd 40C (104F) day during summer, 35C is hardly something for me to blink at - except this is Switzerland. Seems strange to be wanting to go to the beach given only a few months ago I was writing about snow - or Geneva's distinct lack of it. But ever since I moved here, I was fascinated by what it would be like to swim at a beach that is actually a lake; we just don't have anything like it where I'm from in Australia.

So today, given the hot weather, I decided to try swimming in Lac Leman. I wasn't quite sure what to expect, other than the water to be really cold. I remember dipping my hand in the water during winter and thinking it was so freezing cold that the water would never tempt me in. The water in Lac Leman, after all, is virtually melted snow from the Alps. Thankfully, the water has warmed up somewhat since then. While the water temperature induced a few 'oh my gosh, it's cold' gasps on first entering, it actually turned out to be fine and rather refreshing once I'd got out.

Not much to be said for the wide expanses
of white sand at Nyon Plage

But the 'beach' itself is something else. To me, a beach is made up of kilometres of wide, blindingly white sugar-fine sand, with deep blue water and crashing waves. It's what I've grown up with; I still remember my dad piling my mum, brothers, the dog and I into the car for the 15 minute trip to the beach as a kid. But the beach in Nyon is completely different. True, it has an amazing backdrop of the Alps - which actually seems rather surreal. It also has the most clear, blue, calm water that does look quite inviting on a day like today. But its beach is maybe 2 metres wide if it's lucky, a mix of river sand and pebbles.

But the backdrop more than makes up for it
- the Alps

It's quite strange that it's only taken us the first truly hot day to go to the beach here; back home, we actually very rarely went to the beach, even on the hottest days. My local beach, Scarborough, is pretty amazing for a suburban beach - it's pretty much as I described what my definition of a beach is above. But we never go, even though it's a 5 minute drive away. Mostly because my mother-in-law has a swimming pool, which is convenient. But also because we're not really beach people. Beaches at home tend to get very windy once our famous sea-breezes are in, plus the waves can be quite dangerous. Plus, having grown up aware of the need to be careful of the sun, it gets pretty intense out there, and you can get sunburnt very easily.

My local beach back home, Scarborough Beach

Despite the lack of waves or nice white sand, I think I could become a beach person pretty easily in Switzerland. Grass is much easier to get out of your swimming suit bottoms than sand, and there's something to be said for swimming in calm waters. Now all we need are more 35C days to tempt me in!

No douze points for Suisse/Schweiz/Svizzera

The Eurovision Song Contest was on last night, and this year Switzerland was in the final. While Eurovision is always kitsch and cheesy, some of the songs are quite good; really catchy. I actually liked Switzerland’s entry this year – ‘In Love for a While’, by Anna Rossinelli. But it seems nobody else in Europe did.

Switzerland came stone last with just 19 points, miles behind second-last placed Estonia with 44 points. It was also one of only three countries not to be given ‘douze points’ (twelve points, the maximum a country can give an entrant), and I think most of their 19 points came in one ‘dix points’ (10 points) haul from one country (I forget from whom, and the detailed voting results aren’t up yet).

Eurovision is always famous for its country-block voting, where the Scandavian countries all vote for each other, as do the former Soviet bloc countries. But it seems Switzerland has no friends who will vote for it. You would think three of the countries that surround it and give it three of its four official languages – France, Italy and Germany – would vote. They might have given them some votes – I don’t really remember – but I don’t think any of them they gave Switzerland the big three; ‘huit points’ (eight points), dix points or douze points.

And I wonder why. A couple of my friends on Facebook I think have summed it up; in response to my post on Switzerland coming last, my friend Julia said ‘that’s what happens when you’re neutral’ and my friend Teri said ‘no friends, no enemies, no nepotism gets you 19 points’. That has to be it; the fact Switzerland is neutral and doesn’t create waves for itself with its neighbours.

I always thought Switzerland was one of those countries in Europe that people liked, or at least respected. Maybe they do; I’m not European, so I can’t really tell, and I haven’t been here long enough to really know. But maybe the rest of Europe just doesn’t think about Switzerland. As Teri said, Switzerland has no friends and, having not been in a foreign war since 1815 (I’m not counting Afghanistan – who hasn’t been in that one?), no enemies. They’re also not part of the European Union and don’t have the euro or crippling national debt. Apart from internationally controversial and little understood laws and policies, like assisted suicide, I think Switzerland rarely makes the news.

I read a great book recently, Swiss Watching, by Diccon Bewes, an English expat now living in Bern. His book was a revelation for someone new to Switzerland, the Swiss and Swiss ways. I think it should be required reading for expats. Several times while reading the book I had a eureka moment, where he would write on something I was curious about but didn’t know the answer to. Like what’s with the little yellow signs everywhere? (They’re hiking signs, to help the Swiss find their way in their obsessive love of hiking.) And with the people canvassing in the town centre every Saturday? (They’re trying to get people to sign a petition so that a referendum can be called, the main way of laws being passed in Switzerland.)

Mr Bewes outlines in his book the parts of Switzerland’s history, over 700 years of Swiss-ness, of why the Swiss are what they are today. The cover of Swiss Watching might have the answer as to why Switzerland came last in Eurovision this year – “Switzerland may be more than 500 miles from the nearest drop of seawater, but it is an island at the centre of Europe. Welcome to the landlocked island.” Indeed.

Lessons in moving

So admittedly I’ve been a bit radio silent lately. You could hardly blame me after the constant moving about of the last four weeks though. What a debacle. We’ve certainly learnt lessons along the way – and so you can profit from them, I’ve listed them in gory detail below – but the important thing is that we’ve finally moved into our permanent apartment, and don’t intend on moving anywhere for a rather long time!

Lesson #1: If you think you think you need to extend your sublease, then do so!
So our problems started when we realised that our new apartment (which is just that – brand new, therefore under construction) wasn’t going to be ready as soon as we’d hoped. We’d signed a lease in early February and were told we could probably move in mid/late March, although our lease, to be on the safe side, was dated from 1 April. Our sublease in Sticksville ran out on 21 March and we thought we’d probably be safe. Wrong. When we realised that we needed a place to stay for an extra week, thinking we could move in on 27 March, it was too late to extend our sublease.

So we had to move out and we spent the next week shifting between friends’ place in Nyon and a temporary sublease for a few days in Geneva. Then on the Thursday before we were due to move in, I got the bad news that it was pushed back by an extra week to 1 April, April Fool’s Day. I wish it had been a joke. It wasn’t.

Not able to stay where we were, we had no choice but to find a hotel for the week, an expensive prospect to say the least. After an ultimately fruitless search in which neither the web, asking in hotels directly, or just asking at the tourist office – where we discovered there was not a hotel room in Geneva to be had for love nor (anything less than an exorbitant amount of) money – we gave up and headed for Lausanne for three nights, before finding a bed in Geneva for the last two before finally moving in. Glad to be in our own place at last, but the fun had only just begun.

Lesson #2: Don’t buy IKEA furniture in bulk
Of course, a brand new apartment is usually unfurnished, so we needed furniture. Ergo, like any good expat in Switzerland who needs furniture, we took ourselves off on a trip to IKEA.

To kit out our apartment, we needed to buy up big. BIG mistake. I love IKEA and - most of the time - their furniture. I have this mild obsession with anything Scandinavian, so usually that's enough to ensure my favour - the price, functionality and design is a bonus.

But good things need to come in small doses. I've spent the better part of the last 10 days on the floor putting things together - dining table, chairs, tv cabinet, lamp, bedside table, bed, bathroom cabinet, and joy of joys, a Manstad fold out sofa. We usually don't have problems putting together IKEA stuff, but this sofa is proving to be a nightmare.

You can have the chaise lounge left or right; they provide the instructions for first right, then left. We've chosen to put ours on the left, so it's meant that a couple of times we've put bolts on the wrong side and had to take them out again because we've looked at the right-side instructions first, which are wrong.

Then there's the end part which we're supposed to fasten to the seat, but the part in the hole that the screw goes into fell into the end part, rendering it useless. We took another trip to IKEA to get a replacement part, but that hasn't worked either, so we now have a half-finished sofa lying in pieces all over the living room. After two phone calls and two more visits to IKEA, it’s still not fixed. I’m not impressed at the lack of Swissifficiency (a hack word of Swiss + efficiency that I’m claiming I coined). I love IKEA but I've learnt a good lesson - don't buy it and put it together in bulk!

Lesson #3: Be prepared to fit your apartment out with just about everything – except the kitchen sink
So the above may be a slight exaggeration, but I was nonetheless startled to find that we need to fit our own light fittings in our new place, plus things like curtains. I thought the bare light bulbs (or no light bulbs, in the case of the kitchen) were going to be replaced, but it turns out that if you rent an apartment, you often have to bring or buy your own light fittings and curtains, etc. Each to their own, but I was a little surprised; that’s just not The Done Thing at home in Australia.

View from my new apartment - Alps
in the distance!

Lesson #4: Be prepared to sit back and allow your amazing surroundings to sink in
After all the hassles and stress, it’s important to stop for a moment and let things sink in. A couple of days after moving in, I stopped for lunch out on the balcony. It was gloriously sunny and (for early April) ridiculously warm. I was finally in my new apartment – it dawned on me that I won’t have to move again for a very long time. It’s brand new, so it’s a blank canvas, complete with shiny new kitchen toys, including a dishwasher (hello Empress Eats blog!). And then I looked up – and saw the French Alps, rising above Lake Geneva. No matter how long we live here, I don’t think that’s something I’ll ever get tired of.

Home sweet home is… the first place you’re offered

Anyone reading this who is Swiss or an expat living in Switzerland might be mildly surprised I haven’t blogged on this topic before – housing. I read an article recently that said housing was the number one area of concern for expats, beating security and transport. Then I read another article that said Geneva was ranked the tenth most expensive city in the world for expats to rent. I’m only surprised it wasn’t higher up the list. A decent one bedroom apartment in Geneva costs CHF2000 a month. At least. That’s CHF500 a week. And that’s just an okay apartment in an okay neighbourhood. Then a lot of owners want three months’ rent upfront as a security deposit. If your apartment is CHF2000 a month, then that’s CHF6000 you have to find. No wonder people worry about it.

I found very early on, in my research before leaving Australia, that housing in Switzerland – and in Geneva, especially – is both difficult to find and very expensive. This was only reinforced on day one at work. On my first day, I met a lot of people whose names I couldn’t (and some of them, still can’t) remember, plus a lot of other details that very quickly went out the window. But one thing stuck – the typical conversation I had with most people on meeting them. It went something like this:

Them: Nice to meet you. It’s great to have you on board.
Me: Oh, thanks, nice to meet you too. I’m really glad to be here.
Them: Where are you from?
Me: I’m from Australia; Perth to be exact.
Them: Australia? That’s great, I love Australia.
Me: Thanks. I think Switzerland will be great.
Them: So… have you found a place to live yet?
Me: Er, no – I arrived only four days ago.
Them: Oh, okay. Well, good luck with finding a place. Housing here is pretty expensive and hard to find.
Me: Oh, er, thanks for the tip (and after having this conversation five times)… I’m beginning to get that idea.

And they weren’t kidding. I’ve read that other expats, if they ‘go it alone’, can take up to three months to find a place. Emperor D and I decided before we left that we would take the easy (read, more expensive) route and hire a relocation agent. They are people who deal with mostly expats to help them find cars, schools for kids, etc, but especially a place to live.

When we arrived we stayed in a hotel for two weeks, then moved to a sublease for two months (where we’re still currently staying) just outside a village I’ve nicknamed Sticksville. Two weeks after arriving, we found a town just outside of Geneva, called Nyon, that we wanted to live in, and hired a local relocation agent. He did the job. After two weeks of meeting him and giving him our requirements, we signed a lease on a brand new apartment, seven minutes’ walk from the train station. It won’t be ready until later this month – and we can’t wait – but we’ve had a few sidesteps along the way.

We also found a sublease in Geneva that was literally next door to where I work. I could’ve rolled out of bed and had the world’s shortest commute. Things were very positive and we were looking good for getting that place, until we heard we’d missed out because the current tenant found that one of the people who applied had a workmate/friend in common. It’s not unusual for an apartment viewing to have 20 people show up.

But it seems ‘who you know’ is a common theme. A South African couple we’ve become friends with after they moved to Geneva and she started work the week after me, found their rent-so-cheap-it-must-be-too-good-to-be-true apartment through a friend of a friend after less than two weeks. Needless to say, I was a bit envious. I have a close friend here – actually more like family; my host sister – who lives less than two hours’ drive away and even works in real estate for expats. She couldn’t help us much because she doesn’t know the area and doesn’t know anyone here.

Then we found a place in Nyon that is bigger, cheaper and only two minutes’ walk from the train station, and on the ‘right side of the tracks’, that we thought was great. We saw it, applied for it, but it’s since become a little complicated. Although compared to other expats we’ve had it rather easy, we’ve now got to that point where we’re saying ‘home sweet home is the first place that’s accepted us’. And that’s fine. It’s a brand new apartment and, in a few weeks, we’ll be living there. We can’t wait. But watch out for blogs on the joys of moving and IKEA furniture buying!

Sometimes the nicest people in Switzerland aren't Swiss‏

Maybe it's because I'm tired, but I need to have a bit of a bitch (or whinge if you don't know what that means). Not that I've come across anyone bad, but sometimes the nicest people we've come across in Switzerland haven't necessarily been Swiss. And I apologise if you're Swiss and you're reading this. The fact you're reading this means you're nice. Thanks, it means a lot. But I haven't come across you yet, so it doesn't count.

Take the other night. We got back after four days in London and get a taxi home. The taxi driver turned out to be a nice guy, who conversed with us, helped with our luggage, etc - but he wasn't Swiss. He was French Moroccan.

Sometimes, the Swiss (and I don't know if this is a Swiss French or just a Swiss thing) can really punish you if you're foreign. Especially in language. If you don't speak French, sometimes you'll get little help. Even if they speak perfect English. And I know that sounds really stupid and ignorant of me - I'm in a French-speaking country and I should learn French. I am, and really I'm trying and I make an utter fool of myself sometimes when I do try. But it's almost like there's this slight sadistic attitude towards expats sometimes. Even if expats try really hard and speak French and make the effort, and the Swiss can see that, they sometimes still don't cut us a break.

I'm not really sure what it is. The Swiss are not xenophobic, but I think they could be elitist. And why not, I guess it is their country. But still, sometimes some people don't make for a welcome.

I can't really blame the Swiss I guess, when I see the statistics that suggests they might feel as though their country is being overrun by expats. In Switzerland, 20% of the population are foreign and in Geneva, it's worse, almost 40%. With stats like that, I can see how some Swiss may think they're strangers in their own land, and react against that.

I genuinely think that most Swiss, at their core, are a nation of warm, friendly people - once you get to know them. And that's the thing. It's my job, as an expat, to scratch their veneer of 'just another foreigner' and get to know them. Because who wouldn't want Swiss friends?

Three countries in one day – Europe is at your feet

So I’m typing this on a TGV train, belting across the French countryside at about 300km/hr. This morning I had breakfast in Switzerland; I’ll have lunch in France; and dinner in Belgium.

For me, this is what being in Europe is all about. Being able to jump on an insanely fast train and cross entire countries, their languages and cultures included, in just a matter of hours.

I spent the better part of two days travelling from Australia to get to Europe. Today, in one day, I’ll spend time in three different countries. For someone that is from a place where a two and a half hour flight doesn’t even get you out of the state, let alone the country, this seems quite remarkable.

Just like someone from Europe has difficulty comprehending the vast distances and time needed to travel in Australia, I’m still adjusting to how compact Europe is; to learn that when my boss says ‘let’s send you to Paris for one day and Brussels the next’, it’s not that big a deal.

The trains and the low-cost airlines that service Europe make it so much easier. Looking up the cost of a return flight to London on easyjet, I was stunned to find you can get flights for as little as CHF90 (US$ and Aus$ are nearly parity with the Swiss Franc – CHF). The train I’m on from Geneva to Paris takes three hours.

When Emperor D and I moved to Switzerland, one of our goals was to try and travel throughout as much of Europe as possible. I think that through virtue of my work I’ll get to do that quite a bit, and on the longer trips, or trips that can be turned into a weekend somewhere, Emperor D will tag along. But we hope that sometimes we’ll say ‘let’s go to Prague/Amsterdam/Berlin/Stockholm/Madrid this weekend’. And it won’t be a big deal – a cheap easyjet flight, a room in a budget hotel, and Europe is at our feet.

The unglamorous world of Swiss banking

When telling our friends that we were moving, the thing they found most amusing about us going to Switzerland was having to open a Swiss bank account. There’s something about Swiss bank accounts that makes them sound so… glamorous.

Saying someone has a Swiss bank account conjures up images of shady billionaires trying to dodge tax or James Bond, The Saint’s Simon Templar or Jason Bourne.

Swiss bank paper overload!

The reality is far different; I know as I now have a Swiss bank account. Sorry to disappoint, but there are no hand prints on electronic screens, voice recognition or retina scans required to open one. All you need is an address and some identification, like your passport, and in 5 – 10 working days, you too can have your own Swiss bank account.

I went with the distinctly unglamorous Swiss bank of PostFinance – the bank of the Swiss national post office. A lot of locals use them and they have low fees. It’s all very efficient. I will say two things on them though: I’ve never been so overwhelmed with paperwork in one hit – I received six different envelopes relating to my account in one day (see right); and two, that their internet banking is quite secure. In the top right of the photo, you’ll see a bright yellow device that looks pretty much like a calculator. To access internet banking, you need your bank card, the calculator thing, a nine digit internet banking number and a password. It’s not retina scanning, but that’s some hard core security for internet banking.

At least I know my hard-earned is locked up tight like it’s in a Swiss bank. Oh, er…

Got snow?

The Jet d'Eau with a clear Mont Blanc
in the background, middle.

Well, it’s mid-winter and Switzerland doesn’t. I confess that having never really seen snow before, seeing fresh, powder snow was high on my list of must-see things when I first arrived in Switzerland, now just over a week ago. Before this, the closest I’d come to seeing snow was seeing slush – snow that had fallen a few days previously – on the top of Mt Rigi, near Lucerne, ironically also in Switzerland. That was in June, which is the beginning of summer, four and a half years ago.

Since I arrived, the weather has been unseasonably warm. Switzerland should be buried under two feet of powder snow and its citizens should be shivering under grey skies in temps hovering around 0C. Instead, I’ve been welcomed by temps around 10C – 13C (although today was a little colder, ‘only’ 6C) and brilliant, clear, sunny skies.

I should be grateful, especially since this Aussie came from mid-summer temps in the high 30s. I guess its Geneva’s way of providing me with a warm welcome (sorry, bad pun) and allowing me to gradually acclimatise to the cooler weather, rather than the shock of arriving in snowy, freezing conditions.

Images like these – bright sunny skies and warmer than expected weather – has certainly endeared me to Geneva. It’s much easier to like a place under these skies than grey wet ones.

A glorious sunny day in Geneva, but no snow
on the mountains says it all.

Still, I’m a little disappointed at seeing no snow. There’s no snow on top of the mountains either. In fact, a planned day to go snow shoeing in the Jura mountains with my new work colleagues had to be changed to a terrifying attempt at ice skating instead. No snow means I had to try ice skating for the first time since I was 16. It was not pretty – even 5 year old Swiss kids put me to shame.

The Genevoise are certainly lapping it up – some literally. I was too nice not to take photos, but yesterday I saw nude sunbathers soaking up the sun – despite it being only 13C – and today someone was swimming in the freezing cold water of Lac Leman (that’s Lake Geneva). More than one person stared and pointed at this lady, who clearly had a death wish by wanting to contract pneumonia. 

The Genevoise take advantage of the sunshine

Other Genevoise take to the promenades, strolling, riding, rollerblading in the sunshine with family and friends. Emperor D and I joined them. With Geneva even more backwards than Perth in having all the shops closed on Sundays, there’s not much else to do, but on a day like today, nobody would complain.

How could you when you’ve found yourself fortunate enough to live in a place like this? 

Thank goodness for linens

I leave two weeks tomorrow and packing has begun in earnest, thanks to linens. After my last blog, I got down to business by getting some good boxes, and figuring out where to start – linens. They’re easy to pack. So once I made the start, I’ve continued to pack most days since then. Except, er, I can’t pack at the moment; I’m typing this by candlelight as my power, rarely enough, has gone out.

My spare room that looks like a bomb's hit it -
full of packing boxes

It’s quite hard to know what to pack. I keep asking myself questions such as, am I going to need that ball dress I haven’t worn in four years? Is it worth me taking the rice cooker if it’s the wrong power plug type? (The answers are no and yes, respectively – the latter can use an European adapter thanks to Sharon and Brian!) The main question I ask though is will I have enough room for all of this? I have visions of a tiny apartment and boxes of linens, kitchenware, books and clothes and nowhere to put them. (Ooh! Power back on!) But I guess that's something that we'll have to work out when we get there.

Aside from linens, I’ve also packed books. Very important, those. I buy books like other women buy shoes, and I have two large IKEA Billy bookcases full of them. Unfortunately, I had to be rather selective as books can literally weigh a ton. I’m not able to lift up even just the small box I’ve packed. Oh, and of course, I’ve already realised that I needed to look something up in one of my cookbooks – which I packed first and is therefore at the very bottom of the box. It’s Murphy’s Law.

My books - a VIB; a Very Important Box

There’s something to be said about being in the opposite hemisphere to the rest of the world; while it’s summer here, it means that I can pack all of my winter clothes straight away, and barring any freakishly cold day (not likely at the moment – it'll be 33^oC tomorrow), I won’t need them.

Packing will continue right up until the moment I leave. My husband, who we’ll give the pseudonym of Emperor D, will join me a week later, and I’ll leave it up to him to pack those things that have to wait until the last minute, and properly seal, label and deliver all the boxes without any mishap. Only two weeks to go – I still can’t quite believe it!