[Paris] Autumn, going native, and Switzerland

Pretty soon I won’t speak any language. I am loosing my facility with English now. And after only 4 days of classes!

The air is surprizingly cool and crisp with fall much sooner than I am used to. I feels like late October to me.

Going native:
As I hoped, Muriel, Juliette and I went shopping on Saturday. We each bought a top. Sunday, Juliette and I went with Mido to the flea market, but only Mido was successful (getting things for her grandchildren; she’s due to have another one on Friday). Juliette went home because her back was hurting, but I went back to Mido’s to visit more. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but she ended up giving me a bunch of clothes she says she doesn’t wear anymore. So, I have a new parisien wardrobe afterall.

I’m a little sick this afternoon, but I have had lots of water and herbal remedies and should be cured (fingers crossed).

Ten days ago, I was in Basel, Switzerland. I went, again, to see some sustainable housing developments. We saw 2. All information on the tour was in French, and I didn’t try to understand it; so, this description is based strictly on my observations.

I liked the first better, maybe just because we got to see the interior of one unit, but it isn’t particularly transit accessible. In general, it is very simple and rectangular in form. Windows have big gray sliding shutters. Porches surrounded both the front and back of building’s long side with full-length glass doors along their entire length. At the front, there is essecially an ordinary-looking apartment building. Behind it, there are 2 rows of townhouses with flat rooves divided by lush beautiful gardens. Cars park in front of most units. The interior is open and spacious. Front doors openned onto the driveway and backdoors the garden. Again, windows are full-length and porches surround the second floors. Like the apartment building, they are charcole gray and rectangular.

The second development is the color of pine wood. Like the first, it is strictly rectangular. Closely lined townhouses open onto the lane (where no parking is provided, not sure where the cars live). Behind the units are small green yards. They form a small grid. Children and their equipment (strollers, bicycles, toys) punctuate each lane throughout. This development seemed to be in a closer suburb, near a tram and a train station. I left the group here to see Basel.

Actually, first, I took the tram to the other side of town for the art museum, Foundation Beyeler. It’s the collection of modern art formerly owned by the Beyelers. (The price was a bit of a shock after London’s free museums.) They have several nice pieces, my favorites were a small pink Paul Klee nude (I don’t normally like him in particular, but this piece was an exception) and Giacometti (my boyfriend at Hampshire had a print of one of his paintings on his wall, and despite the fact that that was my worst relationship, I like Giacometti). The museum’s garden is beautiful and cows grazed with their compulsary bells in an orchard on the other side of the fense surrounding the modern yard. Returning to the city center, the tram driver waited for me as I bought a ticket.

What do you expect of a city by a river in Switzerland? Well, Basel won’t disappoint. It is very pretty. The old part of the city is on a rise above the river with winding medeavel streets, a cathedral, town square, etc. The river has a really pleasant prominade and appears remarkably clean and clear. I was trying to take a picture of myself with some stuff in the background (the cathedal, a boat, a bridge) when an old man walking with his wife came over and demanded something of me (my german does not exist yet). He repeated himself several times, finally grabbing my camera from me abruptly. Now, I thought for a moment he might run with it, but he was very old, walking on his wifes arm for stability as much as affection, so I decided not to wrestle him for the camera and instead let him take my picture with it. I saw them several more times during my walk and each time he spoke to me kindly; I have no idea what he said on any occasion.

We dined in the hostel kitchen with some Scots who came to Basel for a kickboxing match. They told stories of a guy they knew who was kicked out of the hostel and arrested by the police for being too noisy. “That’s Switzerland for you.”

Well, I have worn myself out already, and Juliette has started cooking (so, I should help). I’ll finish these tales later.