Going Swiss: We’re here

Clench your fists.

Harder.

Now unclench them.

When you unclench them, you can actually feel your hands, wrists and forearms relaxing.

I sometimes have that feeling in my brain after work, except this time, it wasn’t unclenching. The day wasn’t especially stressful, but I was having trouble believing this was real, that the upcoming respite wasn’t for a weekend, but for an entire week.

It didn’t start to settle until about halfway through the bus ride to Boston, with a little girl in the front seat excitedly pointing out every bus, train and tunnel in that adorable half-talk, half-babble way small children do.

This is real. I am on vacation.

We hadn’t been at the airport in three years, but the airport was pretty much the airport. Check the bags, prove we’re not dangerous, dodge the people who don’t have any clue as to their surroundings.

Pretty much the same as it ever was.

<<Ding>>

Suzi and I got text messages at the same time at home — boarding passes from the airline.

The next one was at the airport, this one in German. Neither of us speak the language, but a quickie translation on Google revealed it was the pass for our baggage pickup.

We hadn’t been at the airport in three years, but the airport was pretty much the airport. Check the bags, prove we’re not dangerous, dodge the people who don’t have any clue as to their surroundings.

Pretty much the same as it ever was.

We had to wait a while to sit down to dinner, but that was no problem. Everything was planned out so that we had plenty of time at the airport before our flight.

<<Ding>>

This one in line at the restaurant. Our flight was delayed. Twenty minutes … not ideal, but it could be worse, right?

<<Ding>>

Another delay, add another 35 minutes. An announcement over the speakers referred to starting boarding in another 30 minutes … was that the delay we just got texts about, or another 30 minutes?

I texted my mother, back at our house, to tell her we were running late, mostly so she would know why the eventual message that we had arrived would be later than anticipated.

My messages were very straightforward, no commentary at all. Her reply: “I know it’s frustrating … .” It’s almost like she thought I’d be highly agitated.

I was very highly agitated.

Apparently delays are a thing now. Ours wound up being about an hour and 20 minutes, which probably wasn’t too bad relatively speaking, but felt like 10.

May the hours we spend doing things here in Switzerland feel like they go by as slowly.

Once we got on the flight, the crew apologized for the delay, saying that the plane was a little late, but they were ready … it’s just that things were a bit out or sorts on the airport’s end.

The shade …

Flying overnight, you’d think sleep would come easy, but it was hard to get comfortable, and the times I was just about to conk out for real were interrupted by the arrival of food — pasta that had visions of adequacy and just about got there, but I grade on a curve for airline food — and a child who screamed with great gusto and stamina.

But we got to Zurich, out of the airport, onto the train and to our hotel. Suzi’s navigation was rather impressive.

I’m putting a lot on this vacation. They’re always welcome respites from real life, but I’m really looking forward to the chance to clear my head and worry about nothing but enjoying myself.

Of course, because my brain is my brain, I’ve already had fleeting thoughts about the vacation ending — after all, once you’re on it, you’ve started toward the end — and what happens after I get back, but fortunately, they were just fleeting.

We’ll see what happens with that midweek.

But for now, Switzerland is full of possibilities, and we want to engage in as many of them as we can.

We’re here.

Let the fun begin.

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