On the optimistic peak

I guess that, like in any job, you go through various mood curves: you start all excited and seeing only hues and shades of pink - that would be at a Himalayan altitude. Then you realise you have to write the company's founding papers (Die Statuten) in German - and that's about where you discover the true depth of the Mariana Trench. Then - with a lot of help from your friends and advisors - you actually get to the point of signing the final registration papers and the public notary congratulates you. Celebration. When you finally wake up from the bubbly induced euphoria you realise that, just because you exist it doesn't mean you're alive. Yet. And you set a new world record in diving.

But then comes the moment when patches of crumbled projects start letting through a glimpse of commonality - wow: we have a couple of assignments. No pressure. Not tonight (last night was another story: didn't get a minute's sleep, worrying about one of them). Tonight we celebrate.

And get ready for the next round of free diving.

Just like a thirsty man drinking water from a fire hydrant

I'm beginning to realise how much I've learnt and panic at the thought of how many things there still are to be learnt. No, it's not the quantity that scares me, but the speed the learning has to happen at.
I think that only now did I "touch base" with reality: there are no more colleagues to ask or consult with, there are no more departments to brief and then leave them in charge with that part of the project...
Learn learn learn
I'm consuming tones of information: recycling, finance, social marketing, social networks, SEO and web design ... I have been absent a year (not in my life - here I think I was more present than in many years) and it seems that the world has changed completely.
I'm beginning to understand my mother's panic attacks.

It's exciting and scary. I realise that I shall have to face my fears and shame. I'll have to learn to "sell myself" - God I always hated financial discussions!

Two shy people much more introvert than we let see - ufff, we need to get out of our shells.
We know we must start networking and shamelessly boast.
So embarrassing for us...
Have blushed just at the thought of it...

Street image

Louis Vuitton bags taking the public transport, Street Parade passing by with its colourful and thump-thump techno music floaters, its hoard of uninhibited followers - this city fascinates me!

In praise of Swiss garbage

If you are looking for a well thought-out exercise in cause and effect, you need look no further than Swiss garbage collection - it is impressive!

You can buy, at any store at the counter (not off the shelf), the plastic bin liners for your district. These are potentially the most expensive plastic bags that you will buy at about CHF25 ($24, €18 or £15) for 10 pieces. You can put anything in these, and it will be re-cycled by the city, but you can appreciate that if you put everything in it, you need to be rich...

What happens if you use your own (cheaper) bin liner? The collection folks will go through your rubbish and find something that identifies you, and you will receive a polite letter telling you that if you do it again, you will be fined.

But you don't HAVE to spend your inheritance on garbage collection. Very much of what you have is re-cyclable. There are collection points in easy reach across the city for glass of various colours and metal tins. These were large above ground bins until recently, but have recently been dug into underground silos, with a small, neat pillarbox for the 'goods'. Plastic milk and joghurt cartons, and PET bottles are collected at special collection points in supermarkets. Paper and cardboard are collected frequently from the street outside your dwelling, and you can either use the free, supplied calendar to tell you when they will be collected, or you can register your mobile and receive a message the night before collection. The paper and cardboard needs to be tied up neatly with string, and left outside on the streetside by about 7 in the morning. Twice a year, there are similar services for old clothes and leather goods, and these are channeled to charities who can either sell them and use the money, or ship them to countries which need them. Bags are provided, with the collection date on them, and you get the usual SMS the night before.

All of these services are free of charge, and if you use them, the bin-bag lasts MUCH longer.

It works. Being lazy is expensive, being conscientious is cheap, and quite frankly, it's garbage - it's just not worth getting into a lengthy discussion with the authorities about it.

A street that never sleeps

We live on a very cool street - it starts with the name itself: Ankerstrasse. We've always liked the name and felt "anchored" into something solid.

That is until M came round and casually remarked our street had dropped its first letter: "W"

We've never been able to look at it the same way again...

Then, the street setting is a story of itself: opposite the Court House and one street far from the red light district. I guess it makes sense...

Oh, and on the direct route of all fire brigade cars. And their sirens are at exactly the same level as our bedroom window.

Then we have 2 of the city's most cool bars: one underneath us, the other opposite. One has jazz concerts every Thursday, the other one is packed Thursdays to Sunday. And with the recent heat wave and smoking ban, all parties have moved out onto the street.

Under our bedroom window.

And since we can't get that much sleep anyway, we lie in our beds and listen. And collect stories and snapshots of life.

The other night was a couple breaking up. He was Italian, very loquacious, and slightly pissed. To the point where he took his speech up and down the street, its reverberations bouncing up and down the walls. But we didn't mind, as 3 languages were switched with ease between the two lovers gone sour - we took it as a free language course.

Last week it got all dramatic, with Police car chasing, car crash, yells, arrests and the crowd of regulars, staring, commenting, betting I guess. It was 2 am.

When spirits calmed down, Police investigating team came to take photos, measure and chat loudly on the cell phone. Under our bedroom window.

We got to fully understand the local entrepreneurial spirit when 3 ladies of the night tried selling their services. To the Police officers.

Under our bedroom window.