Saturday Morning Market

On Saturday morning, we strolled to the open produce market on the main pedestrian walkway in Lausanne. Our goal was to acquire some nice things for a lunch at home. As we strolled through the stalls however, we realized that our minimal-at-best language skills were not going to cut it. There is a rather intense sounding dialogue that takes place over open-air fruits and vegetables and watching it made me feel as though I was in one of those actor nightmares where you show up on opening night and don't know any of your lines.

(edit: we now know that we would have been fine and were just being cowards)

So we contented ourselves instead with wandering through the streets and simply admiring the wares on display.

Then the food surrounding us started to play mind games.

And soon our stomachs were rumbling.

Anthony located a tiny pizza parlor in the nick of time. Just as my stomach rumblings were making small objects begin to fall off shelves.

Pizzaesfizi: vendor of temptingly decadent Italian style pizzas.

There were about six different pizzas to choose from,

(white bean and bacon to zucchini and gorgonzola to pecorino and pepper)

and in my hunger I burst out "Yes. Hello. I would like to try ALL THE PIZZAS!"*

The chef looked at me very seriously and said "you can have as many as you like you know" and picking up a pair of scissors continued, "just point to the ones you want and tell me how much you would like of each and I will cut a slice for you"

(Then my head exploded from happiness.)

We ended up trying five of the options, each one more delicious than the last. When we had exhausted the plate and had unceremoniously adjusted our belts, my inner Veruca Salt was finally content.

(Now all I want is an Oompa Loompa.)

*Some paraphrasing and slight exaggeration may have occurred. When I am hungry, short term memory functions shut down to conserve energy.

Getting settled

Home at last, for now.

We moved from our hotel to the temporary apartment - a vintage building not far from our office and have spent the past couple of days doing things that are mundane in everyday life but rather exciting in a foreign country. We keep going into grocery stores and wandering around just looking (and buying chocolate...because it would be weird to leave a grocery store empty handed right?) because everything is just so different. Filling our teeny little fridge for the first time was an adventure as was the first load of laundry in the microscopic washer/dryer (one machine, two long and very noisy jobs).

There was a rather nerve wracking moment as I sat there, anxiously listening to the aforementioned washer/dryer as it made noises implying that it was about to pull away from the wall and rocket into space. It didn't, surprisingly, and a mere 3.5 hours later our clothing was both clean and dry. Lesson learned: leave house to do other things when clothes are being washed or risk being deafened by the whirring and whining of the little raccoon that is obviously trapped inside this small strange device.

Classiest lunch around: Fresh bread, a little cheese and delicious beef jerky. (Stop judging me, Internet.)

For documenting.

This couch is coated in Teflon, I swear to god. It looks so modern and hip, but the last thing it wants you to do is sit on it. In the photo above I have had to wedge one foot between the cushions to avoid being ejected. Heaven help those who fall asleep on it. I hear one guy went missing and was never found.

So we are settled for the time being and have been spending our time apartment hunting and acclimating ourselves to our new surroundings. Work begins in earnest on Monday so I'm grateful to have a little extra time to adjust.

Sidenote: I need to learn French like, tomorrow. It is so frustrating to be surrounded by people and have no idea what any of them are saying (it is putting a major cramp in my love of eavesdropping). Any tips that anyone has for becoming fluent in an entire language in just a few hours, if you could send them my way I will be eternally grateful. In all seriousness, our 'survival' French courses start on Monday, but that is doing nothing to quell my impatience.

The view from here

If you could not tell from the previous post (written under hazy-at-best brain clarity) we have landed in the mountainous, chocolate and skier filled region that is known to the world as Lausanne. Or, as I have now come to know it, The-City-That-Is-Built-On-A-Mountain-Where-The-Coolest-Stuff-Is-On-Top-Of-The-Mountain-And-You-Always-Seem-To-Be-At-The-Bottom-Of-The-Mountain-So-Then-You-Need-To-Climb-The-Mountain. Given my recent tendency to sloth-like behavior, I think that this is probably a very good thing.

The really wonderful thing about hiking up and down though, is that the sights along the way are just spectacular. I'm not talking about grandiose, overdone fanciness here, just hundreds of little things along the way that could have been created without thought or care, but instead were created with an eye for beauty.

The place that I am reminded of the most as I walk around here is Disney World (well, minus the kids). The residences and pedestrian-only cobblestone streets and people strolling arm-in-arm in the evenings seems almost too perfect to be real. Granted, the reality is very present, but right now in the first rosy days of our stay here it is easy to pretend it doesn't.

As the sun set over the city, lights popped on in apartments on every street. As a total stranger here, it gave me such a sense of comfort to see people going on about their daily lives in their tiny, softly lit apartments. It reassures me that someday soon we too will be settled in a tiny apartment of our own and begin to belong here instead of looking at everything through the eyes of visitors.

We were able to see just a bit of the mountains before the sun went down. I hope to be able to photograph the scenery again soon when the weather is more accommodating. We capped off this evening's stroll with dinner at one of the few hotel restaurants open on New Year's Day. In the spirit of trying new things, I opted for the steak tar tare and it was incredible.

Cheers to a new year.

Thoughts from a new land

Post 1 from Lausanne:

Morale: High with a case of narcolepsy

Food: Supplies low, foraging proved both successful and delicious

Odd books spotted being read by strangers: 1, Fondue and Fur (?)

The weeks leading up to The Flight were so jam packed with goodbyes and dwelling on all the unknowns of All This Change, my thoughts on moving constantly flitted back and forth between PANIC! EXCITEMENT! PANIC! COOKIES! (I'm a stress eater) PANICPANICEXCITEMENT! etc. Wine in vast quantities did somewhat alleviate the panic portion of this issue.

The past few days were filled with packing, repacking, unpacking to find the things that we accidentally packed and suddenly needed, ironing, saying final farewells and running errands. When every last sock was stowed away, we headed to the airport and said goodbye to Anthony's parents.

Since we had no idea what traffic would be like on New Year's Eve, we got to the airport with hours to spare and spent it quietly occupied in the airport lounge. Anthony worked diligently on the world's largest crossword puzzle and I attempted to eat all the cheese cubes from the refreshment station (see above re: stress eating).

And then, the time came, our section was called for boarding and with shaking knees (literally) we headed into the unknown.

A mere six hours later...here we are. More to come soon, but for now. Sleep.

There's a change in the weather, a change in the sea...

Back in August I posted this, knowing on the periphery of my mind that 27 had the possibility to be a year of intense change. Nothing was concrete yet, but the inklings of a major shift in the status quo had begun to pass through my day-to-day life. 

Three months later and everything has been aligned, cemented and now November (what's left of it) and December will be filled with preparations for a rather monumental journey.

On December 31, A and I will be moving to Lausanne Switzerland for work, return date unknown. Even as I am typing this, the words are not yet registering in my brain as being true. These kinds of adventures happen to other people, far more interesting and adventurous people than a homebody and bookworm such as myself. But even as I fail to comprehend the realness of it, there is the piece of paper on my desk defying my incredulous reaction to the situation. Girl, you are going. Better start packing those bags.

This process has been long and fraught with anxiety, disappointment and (ultimately)  exhilaration. Even when the conversations began in earnest back in August, it was hard to accept the situation with any sort of finite possibility. I have always been a worst case scenario person, a closet optimist who spends a significant amount of time grappling with the very real possibility of defeat, while a tiny, hope-filled balloon tries to stay afloat in the face of my overbearing pessimism. With the signing of the papers, the tether of worry binding that balloon to the earth was cut free and has started tentatively floating upward, gathering speed and volume and beginning to grasp the infinite possibilities of the future.

A future filled with excitement. Exploration. The most tantalizing unknown experiences.

December 16th is the date I drive out of this beautiful city that I have called home for almost four years. Chicago, we have had such a relationship. I have grown up here and started the foundation of a life that I am so excited to call my own. There are so many nooks and crannies of this city that I will miss dearly. And please let's not talk about the people. Not just yet. The thought of leaving the wonderful people I have had the sheer joy to meet and laugh and play and cry and work with here is too much to handle right now.

Oh, the goodbyes will come. They have to. But not yet.

I can't believe this is happening.