Verkehrshaus

This morning I had to interrupt this cute scene. The kids were playing with a fishing game that Ella made yesterday in a fit of creativity, with poles fashioned from sticks, string, and magnets, for catching little construction paper fish with paper clips attached.

I still remember the version of this game that my mom made my sister and me when we were small. She was inspired, I think, by a Smithsonian catalog. And I remember thinking it was so funny that she included an old boot in with the eels and sharks and fish that she carefully drew and cut out for us.

Mom, Ella's version had smelly old boots, too, worth negative 10 points. It's tradition.

The kids had plans to kick back and have a day-long fishing tournament, but instead I marched them out of the house before 9:00, for a trip to Luzern to the Verkehrshaus, the Museum of Transportation.

My three blondies, on the ferry boat

The trip there was fun, in and of itself: we passed the hour-long trip down with so many games of Uno, with Joey acting as the ultimate wild card, changing the deck stack at his whim. And then we got to hop on a ferry boat for a ten-minute trip to the far side of Lake Luzern (also called Vierwaldstättersee).  It was exactly the right length of a ride for my kids: they spent the trip, hanging over the rail, laughing at the seagulls that were flying next to them. Alex decided that the birds were trying to get high fives.

Ready to scoot

The other day I had a conversation with a neighbor.  He's Swiss, himself, although he lived in New York for several years.  Bucking the trend of Swiss national pride, he was talking about how dull Zürich was. And I found myself in the strange position of defending his country: he did concede that his three-year-old daughter loved living here and that it's a great place to live if you have children: all public places cater to them. And this museum was no exception.  It was, unequivocally, awesome.

There are five large halls, the entrance hall, and then four others devoted to cars, trains, boats, and airplanes. And, in the middle of these is an enormous play area for the children.  Most of it is very smoothly paved, and the museum set up dozens of scooters and bicycles for the kids to zoom around on.

"Non-means of transportation" might be bit of a stretch,
but the kids had fun.

The exercise corner

One corner of the courtyard had exercise equipment, as well as a huge merry-go-round and enormous trampolines.

Another corner was turned into a large mini-construction site with several gravel and rock pits, and many little peddle-powered diggers for the kids to ride around on.  Alex and Joey, especially, were absolutely in heaven, rushing about importantly with wheelbarrows filled with rocks.

Joey, who had brought his Trucks & Cars & Things That Go bible along with him on this trip, made a two-year-old's joke by hiding behind some of the trucks and then, when I found him, laughing: "Mom! Guess what! I Goldbug. See? I hiding."  When I tucked my little Goldbug in for bed tonight, he told me, with his sweet toddler accent, "I love you, mom. And I love the rocks. I miss the rocks."

They had some great machines for the kids to play with, including several
hand-cranked ramps and a sorting jigger.

While Joey and Alex were hefting and shoveling, Ella was off in a different corner of the playground, getting educated.  When we'd first entered the courtyard, Ella had bolted directly for some large peddle cars parked in a little miniature roadway.  But the attendant shook his finger at her and told her that she had to go to a half-hour traffic school, first, before she was allowed to play on those cars.  Ella was totally game, and she put in her time learning about road rules yield signs and which side of the street to ride on.

When the lesson was done and it was time to practice on the cars, Ella carefully, carefully, stopped at all of the stop and yield signs, and she and attentively rode on the correct side of the street, and she cautiously went in exactly the wrong direction around the traffic circle.  Instantly, the attendant was at her side, correcting her. He meant business.

Traffic school

But Ella loved it, and in the end she got a little driver's license and a deck of traffic-safety playing cards for the game cupboard.

Finally, behind the wheel

In between traffic safety sessions, the attendant opened the track to the 3-to-5-year-old set, so Alex got a turn to play on the cars as well.  He absolutely loved it, and zoomed, non-stop, for the full half-hour that the little kids were allotted, while Ella took her turn constructing with Joey.

Needless to say the kids were wiped out by lunchtime.  Joey, sweaty-haired and dusty, was on the verge a rock-throwing fit, and Alex and Ella were overheated and hungry.  So we found a shady table and ate a pile of food (it's excellent, how I can always count on museums to be serving large slices of schnitzel) and recharged with some books.

The kids were ready to run back to the playground after lunch, but (aw, Mom!) I made them go inside the exhibition halls.  In the first one, filled with airplanes, Joey, clumsy with fatigue, smashed his thumb in a one of those wooden quiz displays, the sort where you lift a board to see the answer beneath.  His thumb eventually swelled up and darkened with bruising, but he can still use it, so I'm hoping that it will heal by itself.

An exhibit on thrust

Alex, on a hand-gliding simulator: there was a television
in the center

But that was the last straw for little Joe: he retreated to the safety of his stroller, and, halfway through the boat exhibitions, his eyes were closed.

While I was walking Joey around the quieter corners of the hall, trying to lull him to sleep, I sent Ella and Alex off on their own to explore.  When I went to find them, I found them just about to begin a rowing competition with two teenaged boys, with a large group around them, chuckling.  Ella was in the middle of scolding one of the boys for touching the machine before it was time to start: the machines were touch-sensitive, she knew, and wouldn't start, but I think the boys thought she was being a sticker about fairness. But they humored Ella, up until the race started.  My kids fought valiantly but there was no beating the two boys, who were clearly in a pissing contest.

Feeling the burn

It was very convenient that Joey had fallen asleep just then, because the top story of the boat building was (for some reason) a computer-science-themed play area.  The kids hopped around to different stations, where they played games that taught them different sorting algorithms (tournament, bubble, and insertion) and had them attack the traveling salesman problem, and then do a little coding on their own, logo style.  It was just excellent.

Joey stayed asleep just long enough for the kids to work their way through all the computer games, and reawoke in the hall of cars.

One whole wall of the hall was covered with different classic automobiles: the audience could vote as to which car would be presented, and the chosen one was pulled from the shelves by the vertical parker while a video about the car played: incredibly slick.  And I was amused to see that even two- and five-year-old boys drool over Lamborghinis.

That left us with just the trains to visit: of course, this being Switzerland, they had a very impressive collection, and I wish we'd had longer to climb around on them.  The kids got distracted by a train-sorting puzzle, however, that was the cause of some strife: Ella was intent on solving the puzzle, while Joey just wanted to play choo-choo.

It seemed that, after five hours of museum time, it was time for us to to exit with a bit of grace intact.

At lunch I'd told the kids they could have ice cream later in the day, and it was time to make good on that promise.  I was amazed, however, that, when I took the kids to the gift shop to choose a popsicle, Joey told me, "No. No ice cream. I want a little car."  I was so impressed that my two-year-old negotiated an alternative.  He seemed pretty proud of himself, too.

I was certain that I would some pretty placid kids on the way home, after that long day, but Alex, it seemed, has bottomless reserves.  As we were waiting to board the ferry he started doing jumping jacks: he must have been thinking of yesterday, I think. And, even after that, he still had enough energy to beat me in four game of Uno on the way home, and then to run from the train station to the front door.

I took a little bit of video footage today, especially of the playgrounds.  Enjoy, grandparents!

Pedalo on the Zürichsee

I woke up with a splitting headache that never really did go away, despite my day-long ministrations of coffee and Tylenol.  Dennis and I had tossed around ideas of going to Appenzell or Liechtenstein today, but I just couldn't build up the ambition for much of anything. Dennis, however, seemed to have enough energy and ambition for the both of us: after running up to the top of Ütilberg, he got the kids packed up to eat lunch out at an Italian restaurant that his coworkers recommended.

Unfortunately, Sunday closures got the best of us once again: although the website said the restaurant would be open today, they didn't mention that their hours didn't start until 5:30.  Dennis, starving from his run, walked off for a silent scream of frustration, while I willed my head not to explode.

Ella chose just that moment to tell me, once again, "Mom, I really don't ever  want to leave Switzerland.  Not even after Christmas.  Everything is just so amazing here." I suppose she was trying to cheer me up: she did.

We rerouted to the touristy Zeughauskeller, which we knew would be open on a Sunday: it was, and it was so packed that we ended up sharing our large round table with two other women.  Oddly, they ordered just small salads and sodas at this beer-hall style restaurant. I suppose the plates of spaghetti that the kids ordered didn't make any sense, either.  But Dennis and I, on the other hand, did it right, devoured delicious piles of sausages and pork knuckle and sauerkraut and German potato salad, and a huge mug of beer, a piece.  Even now, at 9:30 at night, I'm still not hungry for dinner.

In an attempt to burn off a little of our lunch, we walked up to the lake, where we rented one of the paddle boats that I'd been eyeing for some time.  Actually, we got something that was more like a paddle-barge, big enough to hold all five of us.

The boat was horribly constructed: the ersatz pedals were tiny blocks of wood: our feet kept slipping off them, causing our shins to hit the rails.  And the paddle wheel didn't hit the water quite right, so it took much more energy than it should have.  Dennis is of the opinion that all of this is owing to nefarious plots by the pedalo merchants, who charge rentals by the hour.  Indeed, Dennis and I had to pedal as fast as we could for the last ten minutes of our ride to get to the dock in time to avoid late charges.  And remember, that was after Dennis ran up a mountain.

But the first fifty minutes of the ride were much more pleasant: the kids took turns pedaling and steering, and as long as Alex was doing what Ella believed to be his fair share of peddling, all was right with the world. Joey desperately wanted a turn at the controls, as well, and tried his best to make it work with his tiny legs before grumbling a disgusted "Argh, I can't."

So, instead, he was in charge of waving to passing ferry boats, which Alex did his best to steer us into before Dennis wrested the controls and the peddles.   It's best not to play chicken with ferry boats.

Joey did a fine job getting the tourists
on the ferries to wave to us.

Alex also tried to steer us into the Jet d'Eau

We took our boat to the middle of the Zürichsee, and then up the coast to Mythenquai beach, a city beach that I've been wanting to take the kids to for ages, long waiting for the the right combination of sunny weather and free time.  It does look like a beach worth waiting for, with a kiddie pool set away from the lake, a long, sandy beach, and a playground.  One fine day...

After we finished our boat ride, it became apparent that Dennis and I had miscalculated and had done much too much of the work: we were tired, but the kids were bubbling with energy.  So I made them walk through the arboretum, where we stumbled upon the Zürich Voliere, a random little aviary with toucans and other exotics on display.  The bird house was just plopped there, completely unattended, with cages indoors and out.  Apparently you can board your birds there, as well, and take them there for medical treatment.

A little mechanical music box, adding to the
random wonderfulness of the Voliere

Dennis and I had been regretting, for some time, not taking thermoses of coffee with us on our boat ride: we decided to make an emergency stop at Google for some cappuccinos.  While we self-medicated, Ella and Alex played a fierce game of fußball, with Joey cheering on both sides.

Dennis was a little worried about our long walk home at that point, as it was nearing dinner, but it turned out that the kids had more than enough energy to get home.  In fact, Ella and Alex were so punchy that I ended up giving them little exercises to do while Dennis and I caught up with them: 20 lunges, 25 jumping jacks, 15 toe-touches, 30 vertical jumps. And, after they did them, they stood there, bouncing on the balls of their feet, waiting for more.

Ella put Flintstone-style legholes in the bottom
of her space ship. Cute.

It occurred to Dennis that perhaps we're making the kids a little too strong: apparently they can already outrun us, and now they have their bilingual skills.  And Alex has been developing super-sneaky skills: he's been pretending he's a ninja, you see.  This morning it took Dennis a good five minutes to find him in our little house.  We're foolishly turning them into unstoppable forces.

We harnessed that energy by getting the kids to help us clean, just a little, this evening.  We have joyfully anticipated house guests coming this week, and needed to rearrange things a little.  Particularly, we had to move about six large boxes out of Ella's room, including her alien mothership and three little robot costumes.

Alex and Joey play with the mothership one last time
before it gets drydocked in the storage room

Although I'm sure it won't be long before they're replaced with something even larger.

Glasi Hergiswil

Dennis both needed and deserved a break today, so I suggested he stay home with Joey and relax and watch the end of the Tour de France while I took Ella and Alex out.  I had a place in mind that I'd been wanting to visit for a while but really didn't want to attempt with Joey in tow: a glass blowing museum, located just outside Luzern, in the town of Hergiswil.

Alex and Ella were both game to go, and so we gathered up our provisions and card games and books and caught a mid-morning train.  Ella worked her way through a small stack of books during the hour-long ride to Luzern, while Alex and I played a marathon game of Rat-a-Tat-Cat: we played first to ten, and he won, ten to nine.  Alex has adopted the adorable habit of shaking hands at the end of a game and saying "Good game," and after we did this, he told me, quite earnestly, "Thank you, Momma, for being a good sport."  I can't think of a more pleasant way to pass a train ride.

After a transfer and a second, very short ride to get us to Hergiswil, we were met with some gorgeous scenery: I just don't think I'll ever get tired of views like these.  

Having a snack with the ducks and chickadees

The Glass Museum, Glasi Hergiswil, is the only show in town: apparently the manufacturer is almost two hundred years old, and a small village flanks the many buildings and restaurants owned by them. They put together a really impressive museum to lure people out of Luzern.

The museum and glass works is located right on Lake Luzern, and they had set up a couple of water jets and fountains that the kids could manipulate....and, of course, they did.

Admiring the wares in the seconds shop

We entered the museum through the gift shop, and the kids surprised me by being immediately enchanted, running around and pointing out pretty things.  Ella brought her purse with her, and she was fingering the twenty dollars she's managed to save, trying to figure out what in the store might constitute a bargain.  I suggested she hold off for a bit, considering before buying herself an extremely fragile vase or the candle holders that she was eyeing.

Glass xylophones

So instead we went into the museum, which surprised me by being highly tactile for the kids and really, really amusing.


It was more like a science museum than anything else. In the first room, they had several tuned xylophones made of glass: Ella's eyes gleamed, and she rushed to the closest and started playing Au Clair de la Lune while Alex stress-tested another exhibit.

Listening to ocean sounds in different
shaped vessels

There were a lot of exhibits that had to do with
refraction of light and images

The kids spent a long time going through the half-dozen rooms of exhibits, learning (sort of) about the process of glass making and products made of glass.

"Prince and Princess: six
glass fairy tales and a
sadly true story"

But their favorite room had, as far as I could tell, very little to do with glass. Someone had created a mechanical puppet show telling a story that was, I think, a mash-up of six different fairy tales, accented with jazz flute. We watched the ten-minute show twice, recording it the second time so that we could take it home to Dennis for a translation. Since I took the time to tape it, I'll share a little of the show here: if you bother watching it, I'm sure it'll make exactly as much sense to you as it did to us.  But, incomprehensible as it was, the kids were on the floor with laughter.

After we finished the museum, we circled back to the gift shop, where I got the kids some glass marbles as their treat, as well as something pretty for my table back in Kirkland. And then we learned that, because we'd spent our money in the gift shop, we had a free entry into the crystal labyrinth.

To enter, we had to put on gloves and slippers, so that the walls and floors would remain smudge-free: because everything was made of glass, with mirrors lining the walls, the only way to make it through the maze was to keep your hands in front of you and feel your way around.  With dark, constantly changing light, the maze was incredibly disorienting.

Ella took off at a quick, competitive trot, racing me and Alex to the finish, I think.  But in less than a minute, I heard a loud thump as she smacked straight into the glass.  I tried to get to my weeping child to comfort her and check her head: I could see her, through the glass, but I couldn't quite get to her.  Rather like a horrible nightmare.

But I did, finally, fumble my way to her, and, after confirming that there were no knots on her forehead, I sent her on her way. And at least thirty seconds passed before she rammed her head again.  And Alex, too, smacked himself a couple of times: once, as you'll see, as I was videotaping him walking through the maze.

None of us ever did make it to the exit of the maze: we all ended up going back out the entrance: Ella, as soon as she could find it, and Alex and I after a little more stubborn struggling and a few more hits to the forehead.

We tried to go to the museum playground next, to clear our heads, but it started pouring sheets as soon as we left the building, so we turned around and went to the glass-blowing studio instead.  This was the real reason I'd wanted to come to Hergiswil: I'd read that visitors were able to blow their own glass, and that sounded a little too cool to miss.

We spent a little time watching the artisans make candleholders and vases: both the kids were totally enthralled with how pretty the molten glass looked, and, frighteningly, where incredibly eager to play with glass heated to over 3000 degrees Fahrenheit.

And, lucky for them, this was just the place to do it. In a separate studio off to the side, for fifteen francs, you could, indeed, blow your own glass ball.

When it was our turn, the kids given a few options: small, medium, or large; and ridged or smooth.  Alex knew exactly what he wanted: a small, smooth ball, but Ella froze.  She wanted to discuss the merits of each with the glass blower, and to know what, exactly, were the dimensions of each size, as well as their structural integrity.

Because the balls weren't tempered, they aren't guaranteed to last for any length of time, regardless of the size. And, in truth, Alex and Ella didn't do much, except give the balls their final few puffs. But they both felt very brave and proud when they were done.  And the balls look awfully pretty, hanging in our window.

While we were waiting for our new treasures to cool, we went back out to the playground, where the rain had slowed to a mist.  The kids turned their noses up at the soggy quartz sandbox (containing the same sand used in the glass production) but we all really enjoyed watching the biggest marble run I've ever seen.

Off to the side was a vending machine, selling the same sort of marbles that I'd bought for them in the gift shop, made for use on the run, but the kids preferred to watch the other kids instead: they were too afraid of losing their own marbles. Finally, not wanting the kids to miss the fun, I bought an extra marble.  And their fears immediately proved founded: on its maiden voyage, our marble got stuck a quarter of the way down the track.  Boo!

The marble run, which made sweet tinkling noises
as the marbles dropped across the glass

Also on the playground: when we got
home and showed Dennis and Joey our
adventures, Joey didn't want to stop
looking at this photo. "Silly Alex!" 

Hiding from the rain.

 It was after three o'clock when the kids had finally decided they had seen and done everything they wanted to see and do.  But, unfortunately, the rain had started again, just in time for our walk to the train station. So we tucked ourselves away for a little while next to the church, where the kids poured over the catalogue of glassware that Ella had chosen.  I would never have guessed that would amuse them so completely for so long.

Eventually, when we got on our train, Alex decided he was ready to read a real book, and we both almost dozed off as I read to him, lulled by the rocking train.

We made it home just in time for supper, just after Joey woke up from his nap.  Groggy Joey was immediately alert when we gave him the marbles that Ella and Alex had picked out for him, and Ella and Alex stumbled over each other, trying to be the first to tell their Dad about their adventures.

Of course, some things get lost in translation when they're filtered through the eyes of a five- or eight-year old, but we were able to show Dad, and now you, a few bits of footage from the day, including the kids blowing their glass orbs.