June 21, 2007

Trent, a friend of ours from way back, came to visit us on the last leg of a European tour he was making mostly on behalf of his professional interests. He flew in on the morning of the most violent storm we had seen since we came to live in Switzerland. Perhaps violent is too strong a word, I used to live in the tropics, so this was really just a briefly intense downpour with a side-serving of mild gale. After tipping out a fair volume of water from his luggage he made his way to the city. At the main train station he stored his damp gear in a locker and then spent most of the day wandering downtown. He called me around 4pm.

We took his things back to our place, hung up his clothesto dry and went straight back downtown. We had a stuff to do. Down under Predigerplatz there was a whiskey cellar which was having a tasting session. I had expected there to be at least a couple of other people down there, but we found poor old Erna all alone down there. She was pretty pleased to see us though. Erna wanted to give me another copy of "Der Whiskey Botschafter", she was tickled pink about the write-up they did of the Burns Supper she hosted a few months ago. We were supposed to cough up a few franks each for the tasting but Erna wouldn't have any of that. She just sat us down and started to introduce us to a few very nice drams. We must have sipped peat and smoke with her down in that cellar for about an hour. Later we would catch up with Leila for a few beers at the Bonny Prince and then dinner at the Johanniter bar before a couple more drinks somewhere else in the Niederdorf.

Next day I helped him find his way to a lab he wanted to meet and then went to work. He got me out of there in the early afternoon. We went biking up in the forests above our apartment, had a look at the Masuoala hall and then a beer on the terrace of the Zuriberg Hotel. That night we went back down to the Niederdorf for tapas and rioja at the Bodega, steadily a few of our friends dropped in to join us and while the night away. It's always good at the Bodega.

Saturday morning Leila and I dragged Trent to Flumserberg to have a walk up in some mountains. Wasn't much fun up at two thousand metres though. The poor bugger was wearing shorts and sandles and the weather was dreary, misty and cold. He took it in good humor though and toughed it out for a short walk through the clouds. The worst was getting most of the way back down and spotting a sign which says that the local sportstore was offering free daylong trials of Lowe hiking boots.


That night we had dinner at the Reitehalle with Corine (a friend of Trent's from his wild Boston days) where Trent bought us some of the best steaks we'd had in a good long while. We finished off with a couple beers too many at the El Locale across the road. By morning the sun had come out of hiding and Trent had to go.

See you somewhere down the track mate.