Grandma Emergencies

All that concern about weather, delays, the rest.  And in the end, plans scuttled because “Grandma Esther is very sick in Zurich.”  A short story title if I’ve heard one.  About the nature of travel and randomness and consequence.  Perfect secret bar phrase at a minimum.  

The downtown flying pig is slightly recognizable, although the sleeping area is now a pool table and the reception sign has been replaced by standard lettering.  The looks from that painting have not changed.  The grasshopper is a tourist trap that still delivered a decent carpaccio and heiny, while serving as the location for email #1.  The bike lanes and canals and trams lovely, as is the train ticket collector who wished you a pleasant stay.  The novelty seems less surreal in a post-cannabis legalization world.  Or maybe I just grow old.

Bar Bukowski now, as you try and stay awake long enough to cruise into the magical forest room, first real bed in many nights.  Alone.  Since another whole day and night would be depressing, and you are not the type to fail at the last hurdle, off we go to Basel tomorrow, of all places.  It saves $200 versus the direct and arrival closer to the hotel’s preferred  time in any case, winds permitting.  For the bus/train and then to Kloten and the self-check-in. 

 Forgive me my ravishings, old Esther, as host family attention shifts to you.  

“Stay with the beer.

 Beer is continuous blood.

 A continuous lover.”  - CB

Stay tuned to see if there is a final twist in the hours ahead.