More Bs. Budapest was brilliant. Did you see what I did there? Now, we’re off to Basel in Switzerland.
The city straddles one of Europe’s great rivers, the Rhine, and is in the far north of Switzerland, close to the borders of France and Germany. We have been warned to stay switched on at the airport lest we take the wrong exit and end up in France or Germany, which would mean a significant detour for our host waiting in Switzerland. Basel is a Swiss city with suburbs in both France and Germany. Technically, the airport is in France. It’s mad.
Mrs L and I are going with golfing buddies to be hosted by another golfing friend at her home club, St. Apollinaire. The course hosts Challenge Tour events, so I’m fully expected to get beaten up by it. It’s a Swiss club in France, where everybody speaks German. I can see this is going to be a confusing trip. Mrs L no longer plays golf, so I imagine she’ll take full advantage of the shopping possibilities and the various tax arbitrage opportunities.
We have lots of eating lined up and plenty of time to explore Basel. The currency about town is the Swiss Franc, although if you want to use Euros, that’s OK too. These Swiss, they don’t care, do they? I speak German and French but strongly prefer French, which I suspect will run contrary to the city’s lingua franca. However, I’m fascinated to be in an inherently multilingual place.
The weather forecast looks changeable. There’s a chance we may get rained on. We’re all cool with that. We might even hope for it. The August heat in Cyprus is relentless; I’m looking forward to cooler temperatures. I’m even packing long trousers!
The Rhine is famous for many things, one of which is that many people grow grapes near it, turning them into excellent wine. We may manage a glass or two. Gewurztraminer, some Pinot, oh yes, please.
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