Two Stamps for Zurich
We landed. Zurich is cold. It also has really strange bathroom procedures. First off, the stall doors go all the way to the ground, like little rooms. Secondly, there are no seat covers. Only wipes. You have to literally clean your own toilet seat before sitting on it. And thirdly, they really like Dyson products (as do I).
You know what else? People in Switzerland have absolutely no freaking clue what a Kindle is, but they sure as heck like the covers you put on them. I had my Kindle on the plane and then magically didn't as I was waiting for my connector in another terminal. I thought this part of the day would be the worst, perhaps of the whole trip to be honest. I’d loaded my Kindle with books that were too big to bring with me in my suitcase or carry-on, which is what it’s perfect for. In the pink leather cover, I’d hand-written notes for my upcoming term paper on Milton’s Paradise Lost that was due as soon as I’m home. Needless to say, the entire thing was important, from cover to device. My mom and I blazed back up to the Swiss Air counter in Terminal A and explained the situation. They called the plane & sent a stewardess back onboard to search. After 20 minutes, it was found, nowhere near my designated seat...no notes, no cover, and with slight damage. They informed me it was going to be in that Terminal E’s lost & found. Oh, did I mention I had 15 minutes until the connector flight to Prague took off? Ya.
I stood there and debated for about a minute before I decided this would be 1 of those things I’d do to see if I could. The other terminal also happened to be an underground train ride away. Readyyyyyyy...GO. I literally sprinted. Past the duty-free shops, past the 100 places I could have bought authentic Swiss fashions that really did look like Maria VonTrapp had made them out of curtains, and into the underground train going back to Terminal E. Now, this train had lots of noises piped into it so you felt right at home in the Alps. The VonTrapp children whistled to you, a cow lowed, and a slutty Lederhosen-clad beer wench blew kisses at you from a flowery hillside outside the tram’s windows. It was one of the creepiest experiences of sensory-overload I’ve had since Disneyland, and I’ve only been there once. I really expected to ride the Matterhorn next. Once in Terminal E, I rushed to the lost & found, gathered my poor Kindle that looks nothing like it did an hour before, and sprinted back to the underground train...which now said “Out of Service” in about 4 different languages on the electronic stock ticker. Back I went to Sylvia at lost and found, frantically explaining how I need to be in Terminal A for Prague or I’ll miss my connector flight. She says to go back down to the train and it would start again. She was right, but by this point, the Xanax, Dramamine, and all forms of alcohol had left been sweated from my system and I was all alone. Once on the train, the exhaustion and frustration hit me. I sat down and lost it. There I was, amidst the VonTrapp children, cows, fake flowery hills, and scantily-clad pretend Swiss tram women, holding a pole, crying, clutching my passport and Kindle. I had to be rescanned through security & re-enter through the passport line before safely arriving back to Terminal A.
This is the story of how I have two stamps for Zurich on the same day in my passport. I should have known Switzerland would have been hell after I put my bedroom set together from Ikea 5 years ago, shit. I have to say, their directions for things are a lot clearer in person though.
To be continued ...