Dearest Rachel –
When I got back to the hotel yesterday, after standing, exhausted, in the middle of Marktplatz, and settled in to update you on my travels for the morning, it was at that moment the sun deigned to stick his head out. I swear the old boy was mocking me. But it just goes to prove that I’m burning daylight by stopping to write you about these things. And yet, there’s so much to talk about, even given how little ground I’ve covered.
I resolved to only send you four letters a day at most while I was on these travels; otherwise, when I get home, I’m going to look like a piker. So, I’ve saved these comments to tide you over while I’m on my flight back home, as I’ll have little time, ability or stuff to write about to merit your attention from then on out. Sorry; life is just going to go back to its old boring self, and you know something? I’m kind of looking forward to it.
That, and a good deep dish pizza. Some things, you just don’t eat when you’re abroad. They make getting home all that much nicer.
Anyway, my last trip out. This is the one that ended with a somewhat fruitless trip through Migros, ending up at the Star Grill for that Donner Box. But there was a lot of walking going on before that.
I’d sort of made a habit of going just beyond the shopping and eating districts, and working my way back on foot. And while I didn’t get as much walking in today as yesterday (twelve thousand steps versus fourteen), I think I was more sore this evening than I had been the night before. I was hoping this would translate to being tired and sleepy, as well.
But having already gone past Barfusserplatz several times, and knowing there wasn’t much beyond there worth checking out, I decided to stop where I knew my way, so I could get back by the time things got dark, and sleep the night away. And every time I’m there, I see something else I hadn’t noticed previously, but probably should have.
At this point, I am also trying to go down routes where the tram line isn’t, so I can see things I missed while riding. And well the walkway to Marktplatz is by now plenty familiar…
En route the Schifflande, I took another footpath, and found myself by a toy store, one that might conjure up memories of that little place in Bergen.
Actually, that’s not quite true. I found something little and cute that I think Daniel will enjoy, but it does mean I have to leave it out of the pictures, just in case he sees this. It makes no sense define something like this here in Basil, but I do hope he likes it, regardless.
By the Schifflande stop, there was a footpath leading upwards,
but just as I began to make my way up, an English-speaking couple behind me erupted in excitement, and I had to turn around.
Once the jolly old elf takes off, I make my way across the river.
I notice a small guard house in a niche halfway across.
I find the place where the advent festival is set up; you know, the one with all the restaurant kiosks? But it doesn’t seem to be running.
So basically, I continue walking (with stops that I’ve already told you about for dinner) all the way back. By the time it even occurs to me to get on the tram, I’m halfway between the last stop at Claraplatz and the point where I’d have gotten off at Clarastrasse, so there I was.
At one point, crossing the last street before the hotel, I see a line of cars trying to cross, but dealing with a bunch of pedestrians surrounding me. Said pedestrians nonchalantly move forward, with little regard to the cars waiting on the other side of Claraplatz. It occurs to me that this is a fantastic place for someone who travels on foot, or by bicycle, but a ridiculous place to bother owning a car. Although, to be fair, aren’t most big cities like that?
Guess I have to visit a few more to prove that to myself. Well, it isn’t as if I don’t have time. Still, I wish you were with me to do so.
Anyway, I have a flight to catch, and some sleep to grab before that. I’ll talk to you later. In the meantime, remember I love you.
Letters to Rachel 