Pilatus Kulm

As a seasoned traveler, I try my best to avoid tour companies. Over time, I have come to discover, that even as a solo traveler, I am not a huge fan of big groups, obnoxious people in droves, and tired tour guides who have perhaps done the tour one too many times.

That being said, every once in a while, I cave and join a tour company for the day when I wish to discover a place far enough that requires some explaining and some transportation.

Which brings me to Pilatus Kulm, not far from Lucerne. In 2009, I had done Rigi Kulm with this same tour company and was immensely pleased. I was hoping for the same wow factor. Needless to say, the people in the group can make the experience worth while or break it.

Pilatus in itself was a beautiful mountain, at about 7000 feet above sea level. Long time ago, the clergy believed that the mountain was demonized with dragons. It took the clergy a few attempts to trust that the great Pilatus was a safe place and so it was re-opened, once again to the general public.

To get to the top of this mountain, there are two gondola rides which bring tourists to bask in the views of Swiss Alps.
I failed to mention that while on the bus, there was a huge Iranian group from California. I am not proud to say that they were fellow Caspian Sea dwellers. I am also sad to say that understanding every word that came out of their mouths was embarrassing at best.

I guess the buck stopped when this one couple and a silver haired gentleman, all decked in designer labels and heavy perfume began to speak behind my back as we were lined up for a four seater gondola ride.
I was lined up ahead of them and overheard Agha Smelly Pants (Agha meaning Mister) say to his travel buddies that I hope to god we are not going to be stuck with that loner on the bus....we won't be able to be just us.

And so what do you think This Caspian Princess spewed? Take a wild guess? Please.

In a stiff Farsi, (their mother tongue), I said: did you maybe think I may not want to be stuck with the three of you on this Gondola? But seeing as my mother raised me well, please won't you step in?

I love the shock factor. For one, I don't look my heritage. Two, it is quite handy to have a semblance of language in a functional state for that special moment.

Well, needless to say, they climbed aboard and I surprisingly made friends.
At least, they thought so. They even had me sit next to Mister Smelly Pants and took our picture for posterity sake.
Obviously what followed was idle chit chat about my genealogy and the excitement ended once my mother was from Haifa. Mister Smelly Pants quickly mentioned that in the 16 Iranian couples, there was a token Jew amongst them. It's your family, you should meet them,he said.

Oh boy!
How to loose them on The Great Mount Pilatus?

Scheuble Hotel and the Red Light District

Scheuble Hotel is a delightful, three star Boutique hotel, centrally located in Old Town Zurich. At the time of booking it online, I had read the reviews, and was pleased with the appearance, location and value. Breakfast and Internet included, what more would The Caspian Princess need, after all?

My room is on the third floor of this beautiful building. My room is a trapezoid, complete with a balcony and a huge window. No need for air conditioning, as there is a lovely breeze coming through.

The pièce de resistance is the evening entertainment from my "Juliette" balcony. At about 7pm, the sun has yet to set, and stunning Romanian young women, in sexy dresses and killer heels make their way a few feet away from my balcony. And so begins the strutting.

Contrary to other Red Light Districts in various cities, the sleaze factor has been removed. Perhaps, this Red Light District is not as entertaining as the one in Amsterdam, as the ladies are not sitting in store windows, in a boudoir state.

The Swiss experience is somewhat classy. I laugh as I am typing this, as the ladies are quite classy looking, complete with mani/pedi, matching shoes and clutch, blow dried hair and scents of freshness. Don't get any crazy ideas, as the only way to get to one's hotel is through this sexy, classy maze.

Clearly, one can see the benefit of legalizing Hookerville! Oddly enough, the Swiss Polizei circulate to protect the Johns. These classy broads are known to be aggressive!

Don't let Hookerville deter you from staying at Scheuble Hotel, as to balance it all there is a delightful church that rings its bells every hour on the nose!
Amen!

Wanderlust

The desire to travel, blend in with the locals, to bathe in the local culture, to taste the culinary delights are all ingredients for my perfect wanderlust.

It takes me close to a year to plan my summer trips. The ten days to two weeks, where my sons are off with their father, enable me to escape and wander off in hope for adventure, a little bit of a creative outlet, meeting new faces and hearing their stories, all the while hoping to learn something new.

Which brings me to the start of this summer's adventure, Switzerland! The flight in was pleasant and surprisingly restful. I shockingly napped. In best of circumstances, I sleep poorly back home, and yet the plane ride lulled me to sleep.

Once I landed in Zurich's Flughafen, I walked over to the rail way station to purchase a ticket to Old Town Zurich. Somewhere between buying the ticket and closely watching two young lovers reunite near an escalator, I got lost.

I chose to follow the lovers, who amused me immensely, instead of getting on my specific train, heading to my hotel. En effect, j'ai pris le chemin des écoliers! What if I said, it was well worth it, even in my semi jet lagged self?

This couple, in their twenties, had just caught up at the train station. The young man appeared to be living in Zurich, even though he appeared far from being a local. He seemed to be an English speaking foreigner.

The young lady flew from Toronto, spoke English decently, French barely and hints of German as it was far from fluid.

He greeted her with a multi-colored bouquet of roses and they shared a tender moment...and so began my journey with this couple.

Throughout the train ride, they spoke of oddities, in a broken version of English, French, and German. Neither accents were well respected and a few times, I had to hold back from asking them what is their actual mother tongue.

In Quebec, I had heard of Franglais, a mangled version of French and English; alas, their version was foreign to me.
These two managed to bastardize all three languages in a delightful, bemusing way. One couldn't help but be drawn and entertained...until of course, one realized one's train was heading the wrong way.

It took me forty minutes to make my way back to Old Town Zurich, a train, two buses and a tram plus a lot of walking with luggage, up a cobblestone, winding road.
Welcome to Zurich!