Arosa, Switzerland - Dear reader, it's been a minute. Apologies for being negligent in keeping you aware of all our activities.
Over the course of that day we ultimately narrowed things down to two options: a stunning but unfurnished apartment in a historic building that was sandwiched between the opera house and the Grossmünster, Zurich's largest church. That apartment was recently renovated and had some of the original beamwork integrated into the open floorplan in a rather elegant way. Views included the historic city and, in the distance, the Alps. Our other option was a furnished apartment in Wiedikon, a trendy district on the western edge of the city. This area was more appealing because it was less touristy and had more casual restaurants and bars for H and me. The apartment in Wiedikon is also nicely appointed, though not so nice as the one previously described. It's in an older building and the floors are somewhat slanted and the floorboards creak and groan rather loudly (i.e., "character"). Importantly for Hannah, it has the largest kitchen of the options we found. Importantly for me, it comes furnished, so I wasn't going to spend a day putting together Ikea furniture. Despite the obvious appeal of the former apartment, we chose the latter because, being furnished, it was significantly more practical.
Our new apartment is more specifically located in the Sihlfeld neighborhood, which is on the northern edge of Wiedikon. Wiedikon was previously an independent municipality and was absorbed into Zurich in 1893. We live down the street from Idaplatz, a lovely little gravel plaza with benches, trees and a fountain which is surrounded by shops, bars and restaurants. Five minutes of internet searching failed to reveal much about who Ida was and why he or she is venerated here. Anyway, starting in the mid-1990s the neighborhood started gentrifying. Idaplatz used to be a working class neighborhood with more immigrant families. In the mid-1990s, the city reconstructed Idaplatz and made the area more pedestrian friendly. Hip restaurants and bars started to move in, followed shortly thereafter by yuppies (e.g., H and me). You can read more here, in an article by Seluan Ajina.
Upon hearing that I was moving to Switzerland, my good friend Eugene immediately set about planning a ski trip. Eugene is a masterful organizer: He rallied together a group from around the world (in addition to myself, folks traveled in from the UK and California), found us a lovely mountain side ski-in, ski-out hotel perched high above the village, and advised us on how to buy lift tickets ahead of time.
Our group included the above-mentioned Eugene; Brian - a skilled snowboarder and live-action photographer (see some of his work below); Gabrielle - a UK-based attorney and cat-lover; and Adam - a UK-based financier and Gabrielle's soon-to-be husband.
We skied at a resort called Arosa-Lenzerheide. Arosa and Lenzerheide are two towns in adjacent valleys that lend their names to the resorts. These were actually two separate resorts until recently, when they were connected by a tram that travels between the mountain peaks and, in the process of transporting you between said peaks, dangles you hundreds of feet above a barren snow-covered mountain valley. Interestingly, if you should happen to miss the last tram and get stuck on one side or the other, you have to take a long train around the entire mountain range to get back to the valley with your accommodations. This nearly happened to us yesterday when the lifts were put on wind hold and we were prevented from reaching the tram for several hours.
Arosa-Lenzerheide is located in Graubunden, which roughly translates to Grey Leagues, which refers to the canton's origins as a triumvirate of three groups, one of which was the Grey League. Graubunden is like the Montana of Switzerland: large and lightly-populated and mountainous.
Graubunden is famous for it's alpine scenery and winter sports. It contains the ritzy resort destinations of St. Moritz and Davos. It's also the only canton where Romansh is an officially recognized language. Romansh is a close descendant of Latin and is a hold-over from when the Romans ruled the roost. It survived in Switzerland as the mountainous terrain left the various communities isolated and to their own linguistic devices.
Anyway, Arosa is beautiful! The mountains here rise up dramatically from the valley floors where the villages are located, past the tree line and into the clouds. Relative to mountains in the US, the total change in altitude from base to peak is more dramatic here, with the villages being located approximately a kilometer below the mountain peaks. This means the views from the top are quite dramatic (see photos below!).
I conclude by commenting on our favorite apres-ski venue, Kuhbar (cow bar). Kuhbar appears to have at one time been a cow barn, but it has now been repurposed as a indoor-outdoor bar and club. Kuhbar can be heard for miles/kilometers around pumping out pop and electronic music with heavy, thumping bass and repetitive lyrics. The music often features a mash-up of styles, combining some traditional German-Swiss with electronic pop-y stuff. On Saturday, Kuhbar featured a performance by a younger gentlemen with tight-fitting jeans, converse sneakers, and a well-coiffed mane. He was belting out Germanic pop to a melody he produced on his accordion while a DJ threw down some heavy electronic beats. As Brian, Eugene, and I were taking all this in, overhead smoke machines started frothing and strobe lights shot across the barn in a schizophrenic display. Of course, this wouldn't be a club without a bar that serves multi-colored beverages at astronomical prices. Eugene - desperately concerned that we might miss out on some fundamental cultural experience - bought us three liters of dodgy-looking lime-green stuff served in a tall cylinder with a tap at the bottom. Unsurprisingly, Eugene ended up drinking most of this and - also unsurprisingly - was subsequently not entirely up to the task of dinner that evening.
We moved
Last weekend - the weekend of February 8 - we moved to Zurich. H had been itching to get out of Zug, a lovely but sleepy town. Our process for selecting our apartment included countless hours (mostly Hannah's hours) searching online, followed by an afternoon spent visiting apartments throughout Zurich with a bubbly French apartment broker named Catherine.Over the course of that day we ultimately narrowed things down to two options: a stunning but unfurnished apartment in a historic building that was sandwiched between the opera house and the Grossmünster, Zurich's largest church. That apartment was recently renovated and had some of the original beamwork integrated into the open floorplan in a rather elegant way. Views included the historic city and, in the distance, the Alps. Our other option was a furnished apartment in Wiedikon, a trendy district on the western edge of the city. This area was more appealing because it was less touristy and had more casual restaurants and bars for H and me. The apartment in Wiedikon is also nicely appointed, though not so nice as the one previously described. It's in an older building and the floors are somewhat slanted and the floorboards creak and groan rather loudly (i.e., "character"). Importantly for Hannah, it has the largest kitchen of the options we found. Importantly for me, it comes furnished, so I wasn't going to spend a day putting together Ikea furniture. Despite the obvious appeal of the former apartment, we chose the latter because, being furnished, it was significantly more practical.
Our new apartment is more specifically located in the Sihlfeld neighborhood, which is on the northern edge of Wiedikon. Wiedikon was previously an independent municipality and was absorbed into Zurich in 1893. We live down the street from Idaplatz, a lovely little gravel plaza with benches, trees and a fountain which is surrounded by shops, bars and restaurants. Five minutes of internet searching failed to reveal much about who Ida was and why he or she is venerated here. Anyway, starting in the mid-1990s the neighborhood started gentrifying. Idaplatz used to be a working class neighborhood with more immigrant families. In the mid-1990s, the city reconstructed Idaplatz and made the area more pedestrian friendly. Hip restaurants and bars started to move in, followed shortly thereafter by yuppies (e.g., H and me). You can read more here, in an article by Seluan Ajina.
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| Idaplatz, Courtesy of Tripadvisor |
I went skiing
Upon hearing that I was moving to Switzerland, my good friend Eugene immediately set about planning a ski trip. Eugene is a masterful organizer: He rallied together a group from around the world (in addition to myself, folks traveled in from the UK and California), found us a lovely mountain side ski-in, ski-out hotel perched high above the village, and advised us on how to buy lift tickets ahead of time. Our group included the above-mentioned Eugene; Brian - a skilled snowboarder and live-action photographer (see some of his work below); Gabrielle - a UK-based attorney and cat-lover; and Adam - a UK-based financier and Gabrielle's soon-to-be husband.
We skied at a resort called Arosa-Lenzerheide. Arosa and Lenzerheide are two towns in adjacent valleys that lend their names to the resorts. These were actually two separate resorts until recently, when they were connected by a tram that travels between the mountain peaks and, in the process of transporting you between said peaks, dangles you hundreds of feet above a barren snow-covered mountain valley. Interestingly, if you should happen to miss the last tram and get stuck on one side or the other, you have to take a long train around the entire mountain range to get back to the valley with your accommodations. This nearly happened to us yesterday when the lifts were put on wind hold and we were prevented from reaching the tram for several hours.
Arosa-Lenzerheide is located in Graubunden, which roughly translates to Grey Leagues, which refers to the canton's origins as a triumvirate of three groups, one of which was the Grey League. Graubunden is like the Montana of Switzerland: large and lightly-populated and mountainous.
Graubunden is famous for it's alpine scenery and winter sports. It contains the ritzy resort destinations of St. Moritz and Davos. It's also the only canton where Romansh is an officially recognized language. Romansh is a close descendant of Latin and is a hold-over from when the Romans ruled the roost. It survived in Switzerland as the mountainous terrain left the various communities isolated and to their own linguistic devices.
Anyway, Arosa is beautiful! The mountains here rise up dramatically from the valley floors where the villages are located, past the tree line and into the clouds. Relative to mountains in the US, the total change in altitude from base to peak is more dramatic here, with the villages being located approximately a kilometer below the mountain peaks. This means the views from the top are quite dramatic (see photos below!).
My experience skiing here was
different from the US. Folks here more commonly ski the groomed trails that have been combed over and packed down by special tractors. Relatively few folks went through the broad ungroomed expanses between the those trails, this meant these areas were surprisingly untouched and available.
I conclude by commenting on our favorite apres-ski venue, Kuhbar (cow bar). Kuhbar appears to have at one time been a cow barn, but it has now been repurposed as a indoor-outdoor bar and club. Kuhbar can be heard for miles/kilometers around pumping out pop and electronic music with heavy, thumping bass and repetitive lyrics. The music often features a mash-up of styles, combining some traditional German-Swiss with electronic pop-y stuff. On Saturday, Kuhbar featured a performance by a younger gentlemen with tight-fitting jeans, converse sneakers, and a well-coiffed mane. He was belting out Germanic pop to a melody he produced on his accordion while a DJ threw down some heavy electronic beats. As Brian, Eugene, and I were taking all this in, overhead smoke machines started frothing and strobe lights shot across the barn in a schizophrenic display. Of course, this wouldn't be a club without a bar that serves multi-colored beverages at astronomical prices. Eugene - desperately concerned that we might miss out on some fundamental cultural experience - bought us three liters of dodgy-looking lime-green stuff served in a tall cylinder with a tap at the bottom. Unsurprisingly, Eugene ended up drinking most of this and - also unsurprisingly - was subsequently not entirely up to the task of dinner that evening.
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| Your fearless author after descending from pictured rocky heights above |
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| More fearless author. Photo courtesy of Brian |
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| Again, courtesy to Brian for the photo |
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| Eugene (left), your author, and Brian |
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