Silvester

Each morning at breakfast, there's been a little flier at our table, listing the day's happenings, along with a dinner menu, so that we preorder our evening's meal.  But today, since we're leaving, there was no little friendly paper waiting for us.

I stole a peek at our neighbor's table, though, and started salivating at the long list of decadent food everyone would be eating at tonight's banquet.  Lobster. Filet. Foie gras. And there's to be music, and cocktails.  And, by the by the garage attendee will be on hand to assist anyone who wishes to shoot off fireworks in the front lawn.

But we had our own party to get to, and so after our breakfast, and after the kids took one last run through the Kid's Club and said goodbye to the girls who had played with them all week, we loaded up the old family truckster for the drive back home.

With all that snow last night, Dennis decided maybe it would be worth putting on our snow chains, particularly since he had a toasty-warm garage in which to do it.  I think it was a good decision: all the snow that we'd gotten yesterday was making things really tricksy for the new flocks of guests that were arriving for the coming week.  We watched them slip and throw snow as they tried to get up the narrow drive for the hotel, Schadenfreude kicking in.

When it was time to take off our chains, I was put in charge of buying coffee: I've lived here for a year now, and I'm a little embarrassed at how often the coin-operated automated coffee machines confound me. But I at least know how to ask for help in getting the machine to add Milch and Zucker in my coffee. It's something, albeit small, to show for my year here. 

Once we got back to familiar territory, we decided to make a quick stop at the Sihlcity mall, where I wanted to get something for tomorrow's breakfast and some snacks for the plane.  I was delighted to learn that local grocery stores consider December 31 to be close enough to Mardi Gras to stock Fasnachtschüechli, the crispy sugared treats that pass for Shrove Tuesday pancakes in this part of the world. Last season we stocked up on these just before Lent and then measured them out carefully for months. Tonight I got one last package, for old time sake.

When we arrived in downtown Zürich, we realized we didn't know exactly where the hotel was, and then we realized that our phone plans had expired, so we had no maps and no way to call for directions.  Lucky for us, Dennis has a fantastic memory, and his best guess was only a block away from the entrance to our hotel.

We'd made our reservation based on location: we decided we wanted to be close to the lake, where all of the fireworks and music would be, our reasoning being that if we managed to keep the kids up until midnight, they certainly wouldn't have the stamina to go far before bed. And we figured if the kids passed out early, at least Dennis and I would be able to duck our heads out for a moment to see the New Year's eve fun.

So we picked a place called the Hotel Otter, which was right in the Altstadt, inches from all the festivities. And because of that decision we learned a few lessons. Such as, in the future we'll pay closer attention to the website, which, upon closer inspection, does say quite clearly that the hotel is right above a bar "that is packed every evening with young and urban people from Zürich."

I also learned that if we ever again happen to reserve a room in a hotel that's in our own city, maybe we should swing by the hotel and check those rooms out.  They looked so beautifully decorated and airy on the website, but, well...we were a little crowded.

I guess I was spoiled a little by our last week.  But it's a bit of a letdown to go from a three-room suite to a neon-green chamber that shares a bathroom with the rest of the hall.

Ah well...looking on the bright side, there was a city-wide party to go to: New Year's Eve! Oder, auf Deutsch, Silvester!  When we pulled into town, they were already setting up the Wurst and Gluhwein stands, not to mention the DJ booths, but we decided to wait until Dennis ran his errands before we went in search of food.

As I'd mentioned, tomorrow we're going to have to skedaddle out of town early.  Because they don't seem to make a rental car in Europe large enough to hold our family and all of our worldly possessions, we're going to have to split up in the morning: Dennis will get our stuff to the airport by car, and I'll take the kids there by train.  Most of the things that we didn't ship, such as our computer, are waiting in storage at Google, and Dennis went and dropped everything else there but our one remaining suitcase. We decided to leave the car there at Google for the night as well: parking in downtown Zürich tonight would cost well over $60.

While Dennis was bearing all those responsibilities, I amused the kids with a funny little Silvester tradition.  A couple of weeks ago I'd had several toy store attendees working together to try to explain to me how this works, and I think I have it right: on New Year's Eve, if you melt some pewter and then plop the molten blob into cold water, you can interpret the resulting new shape, rather like reading tea leaves.  I had a small candle with me, and so the kids and I gave fortune-telling a whirl.  

Unfortunately, the pewter required a few more BTUs than my little candle could give: it took about ten minutes of Ella and Alex and I holding the little melting spoon in turns before we finally liquified our first bit of pewter. Into the sink it went, and after staring at it for a bit, the kids and I decided it looked something like a fish.

And that just happened to be one of the hundred or so options in the little booklet that came with the kit.  The fortunate attached to the fish shape?  Dennis helped us translate it when he got home.

"Maybe a bath would do you good."

The gorgeous Christmas tree that was
one of my first impressions of Zürich
last year, and now is one of my last.

Hey!  

Although, I suppose that's sound advice for the night before a transAtlantic flight. I've been eyeing the hotel's communal shower dubiously. I suppose the gods are telling me I should just bite the bullet.

But first, dinner! And Silvester fun!

It's a little different from Times Square.

Unfortunately, the weather could have been nicer: there was steady rain all night long. But we gave it a good effort.  At least there were no crowds to battle.  None at all.  It made me a little sad, actually: the streets were lined with so many optimistic vendors, and the streets were empty.  

That's not to say there wasn't a little noise.  The music had started up, playing from three different stages. And there were a few teens tossing firecrackers into the streets, hooting with laughter.  My own kids looked a little scared of getting hit by stray sparks, though, so we stayed back.

Instead, food. Near our hotel there was a stand selling "American-style" hot dogs, with about five attendants who had nothing to do but look at us hopefully as we passed by, perking up as Ella mentioned she might like a hot dog.  They proudly showed off the dozen or so homemade sauces and other toppings that they'd made fresh that morning, and I'm afraid that they looked a little crushed when they learned that Ella and Joey like their dogs dry.

After all the kids had eaten their food and we'd dutifully sloshed up and down party central, we rewarded our little campers with some of those Fasnachtschüechli: we hunkered down on a bench in the tram stop, momentarily dry from the rain, and enjoyed the sweetness of our last adventure.

By the time they'd finished their treat, the kids looked quite tired. And they were feeling like they'd already seen enough fireworks, provided by the youths of Zürich, so at their request we took them back to the room. Ignoring our fish's advice, they opted for sponge baths in the little sink in our room before getting tucked in.

Unfortunately, since we didn't have our phones, we had no way to reach our friends Dan and Susannah, whom we'd hoped to see one last time tonight. I learned later that they'd tried to reach us, too, but it wasn't to be. I don't particularly enjoy goodbyes, but I really would have loved to see them once more.

Long about midnight, Dennis and I decided to put Plan B into action: we snuck out of the room and out onto the street, bought ourselves cups of Gluhwein, and took a look around.

At this point, one of the band stands was playing "It's Raining Men" on repeat, embracing the weather. The streets were starting to fill out, particularly close to the water, and by midnight there was a decent crowd.  There was no countdown or clock that I could see, though, but somehow the ever-punctual Swiss seemed to know exactly when to start celebrating. 

All at once there were fireworks everywhere. Not just over the lake, where the city was shooting them off, but in the streets and side yards as well. Everyone seemed to be shooting off rogue explosions. And, above it all, the bells of all of the city's churches were chiming and chiming, for at least a half-hour in the end. 

Dennis and I smooched and watched the fireworks and lingered a little longer to watch a group struggle to get some flying lanterns aloft, with some great success in the end, before our anxiety got the best of us and we scurried back to our room and our kids.

I wish I could leave our evening on such a happy note, but wait, there's more. The hotel's central air was keeping our room pretty hot.  We suspect our room might have been above the kitchen of the restaurant below, as well. Our poor kids were dripping with sweat.  All the same, we felt like we had to keep the window closed against the noise, but little good it did, with us being right over that bar.  And worse than that was the sound of fireworks that continued for hours: the noise bounced off all of the buildings of the Altdstadt, seemingly multiplying as it traveled.  Clearly, I'm getting too old for this.

I'm afraid the noise and the heat, compounded with my anxiety about the following day's travels, made for a sleepless start to the new year. But all the same, it was a fun night with my fun family, and I would have hated to miss it.