Zurich...

On the way to Zurich I had a four hour stopover in Berlin. I made my way down to Unter den Linden, ambled over to Freidrichstrasse to the Dussman bookstore, and revisited the Brandenburg gate, all without a map. I even gave directions to some Spanish tourists. It was nice to be in Berlin again. If I haven't said this before, I love Germany.

The flight to Zurich was quick but turbulent. From the airplane window the land looks like patchwork corduroy - parallel ridges in earthy tones.



My hostel is right in the Old Town, on a beautiful pedestrian street that's more like an alley, crowded with restaurants and cafes. Just outside the hostel is a restaurant wafting with the aroma of very stinky cheese - clearly fondue is a feature on their menu. It's not entirely pleasant - I do mean stinky (ghastly, pungent) cheese.




The church bells seem to chime at all hours, and for many minutes, each of my three days here, for no apparent reason.




In the little square just behind the hostel, there is market on Saturday morning with tons of crafts, jewelry, books and natural stones both rough and polished.





I spend nearly all of time wandering. Up and down the quays, through little alleys, around squares and across bridges.














As beautiful as Zurich is...





...especially at night...




...I found it spectacularly boring.

None of the museums are any good, and I'm wasn't interested in of the possible activities or side trips available (which aren't many). It seems to be mostly a shopping destination (as indicated by the intentions of many of my hostel-mates).

My photos are random, instinctive, decontextualized:








Admittedly, I was rather preoccupied. The day of my arrival in Zurich was long and tiresome, and that night I had a dream: I was in Canada, that I know for sure, and I was in a house I did not recognize, wearing clothes I do not own. There was something important I had to do and I couldn't remember for the life of me what it was. A figment teetering on the edge of memory, like a splinter in the mind. I awoke feeling anxious, fearful and alienated.

The next few days, as I wandered aimlessly around Zurich, my head was filled with oppressive possibilities and heavy uncertainty. As I gazed around me, habitually, I sifted through backlogged hopes and possibilities, formulated tentative plans, made mental notes of 'things to look into' and dusted off my dreams for the near future. I thought about school and my burgeoning career, about my friends, about the past and the future, and every once in a while I berated myself for not focusing on the present.

I felt dull anxiety, fleeting contentment, acute panic and deep gratitude all at the same time. Zurich was a backdrop for the emotional circus unleashed, I think, by this seemingly innocuous dream.

I started to notice all the ways in which I've changed. Minor things, to be sure, but significant in the space of five months. I began to recognize within myself new desires, developing perspectives and shifting priorities. I began to see myself as if from the outside looking in, as well as if from the future looking back on the past. I felt at once shattered into numerous selves and wholly, seamlessly spherical.

On my fourth morning in Zurich - the day I left for Lucerne - I awoke feeling calm and resolute. My breath has steadied; my stride is measured; my face looks different. Revelation is a mighty word, but it conveys the appropriate scope.

At the same time, I realized that I'm tired. Part of me is worried that my stamina and interest for all of this travel is waning (after all, I spent three days in Zurich and I'm only mildly impressed).

Even the chocolate isn't that spectacular. What freakin' universe did I wander into where the chocolate in Switzerland "isn't that spectacular"? What the hell is wrong with me?

I walk briskly to Zurich Hauptbahnhof, without looking back.