Swiss Watch. Time Stories.
Saturday, 23:30
Bern Bahnhof. I am waiting for my orange train to Worb where I am house-sitting my former Swiss home for two weeks when funny things start to catch my eye again. I have had a couple of beers with a couple of Estonian friends of mine but I do not reckon it’s the beers that make some things now seem bizarre but rather the whole day I have had.
23:32
The automatic doors open upon movement. There are some other late passengers in the waiting hall but I suddenly notice that the doors open without anyone being even near them. I hardly believe in ghosts and it is certainly the strong draft blowing down here but in a way it is really beautiful. Open and close. Open. And close. Open…
23:35
A man approaches the ticket automat next to my seat. He is carrying a tiny plastic bag. He opens it and takes out his wallet. He carries his wallet in a small white plastic bag! He gets his ticket and puts the change back to his wallet. He makes me so smile.
23:36
On my other hand there is a woman reading a book. She is about my age, has somewhat a transparent figure but all in all makes a pretty impression. I glance at her feet and realize her right foot is almost five centimeters shorter than the left one, you can see it by her shoes. The one shoe does not support her at all it seems, but she is still wearing high heels. I wonder if she can buy her shoes in different sizes…
23:40
My train is here. Just before I enter it, I see a teenage girl giggling with a boy. And I could swear she is wearing grey two-piece pajamas. I prefer to sit on the left side in the train. The author of the week is Knellwolf and I open his book of criminal short stories but it is difficult to concentrate.
Time Out.
It is quite remarkable how time has different measures in those two countries close to my heart. To Estonian calculations I am getting to a point where my great uncle – a proud Estonian, Ph.D. in Economics – tells me that if I were to study more I would be too old to ever find one to marry. Besides, according to him, men would not like one with a doctor’s degree anyway – too much for keeping at home. If that should ever go down to that – I am not going to give up one for another anyway and might as well stay single. Or in Switzerland, for that matter. (Joke)
Lunchtime.
The two Estonian guys come to have lunch at the house I am currently sitting. I cook around two kilos of spaghetti and at the table, a decision is somehow made that they will swim along Aare-river from Rubigen to Berne. This is what… 20 kilometres?
16:40
I take them to Postauto. I explain the driver why the two guys enter his bus wearing only swimming trunks. I myself take the backbag with all their belongings and we take a couple of pictures. We are told by somebody that it takes 20 minutes by river to Berne.
17:01
I enter the blue train from Worb to Berne. I love this Knellwolf - he has the sweetest crime stories, like the one where a daughter introduces her boyfriend to her father and the latter is disgusted by the 64-year old English hobbit that kisses his 27-year old beauty in public. He kills the boyfriend out of jealousy and rage. Some time later he then receives a fax from Lilian thanking him for helping her get rid of her problems - she is now the sole inhebitor of the late millionaire. She said she had been convinced all along her father would do that to his beloved daughter. I a bizarre way it is one of the most beauiful stories I have read.
17:45 or so.
I am in Marzili beach at Aare. According to our calculations, the guys should be here already. But they are not.
17:50
I realize I have forgotten their backbag in the train. I dial the infoline. Instead, fire department answeres. I hang up. I call Claudia. She tells me the right info line number and I finally get connected with the railway station. They tell me to call back in ten minutes. Guys are nowhere to be seen. I now have to wait.
Time Out.
In the country of great watches, time ticks differently. Here I am a girl hopping around in my office and feeling no pressure what so ever from the society to produce offspring. Quite to the contrary, had I to stand in Pampers line at Migros I would get the oh-so-young-looks. Do not get me wrong, I respect children but let me use the hospitality of a nation to still be one myself. Shit indeed - how could I forget the backbag!
18:00
The longest ten minutes in my life are over. According to the unfriendly railway man the backbag is back in Worb. Thank God for the honesty of the Swiss. I call Claudia again. This time I am getting worried about the guys. She tells me it must take at least an hour to swim from Rubigen to Berne. But even with that calculation they should be here by now.
18:30
Claudia tells me I should maybe have them announced by the loudspeaker. She also thinks I should perhaps do it in Estonian, this way it would not sound so embarrassing…
18:59
The guys arrive – wet, excited and cold. The water in Aare is 18 degrees. I am so happy to see them. They are happy to see me. They have been swimming for about an hour and a half. And they are still happy even if I tell them that I do not have their money, cell phones or shoes. I leave them in the sun to go for the backbag…
Time Out.
Time does indeed seem to have different dimensions. The dimension of expectations, for instance. In Estonia, the general formula seems to be if you do not do it now you are two years too late: the earlier the higher heels, the later at work the better boyfriend. The light must be bright and burn fast. Yet again – it is not always bad at all. Moving my towels and flippers out from the parents house when I was eighteen I was also granted a certain kind of security that as long as I have my hands, head and two blue eyes that still see I am alright – the stream takes me along to the real life anyway.
20:30
I am back. Marzili has closed at 20:00. There are two guys waiting for me on the street wearing nothing but swimming trunks.
21:00
Portugal versus Germany. We are having a fine dinner and drinking several beers to it.
23:25
I am waiting for my train to Worb in Bern Bahnhof. Weird things catch my eye.
Bern Bahnhof. I am waiting for my orange train to Worb where I am house-sitting my former Swiss home for two weeks when funny things start to catch my eye again. I have had a couple of beers with a couple of Estonian friends of mine but I do not reckon it’s the beers that make some things now seem bizarre but rather the whole day I have had.
23:32
The automatic doors open upon movement. There are some other late passengers in the waiting hall but I suddenly notice that the doors open without anyone being even near them. I hardly believe in ghosts and it is certainly the strong draft blowing down here but in a way it is really beautiful. Open and close. Open. And close. Open…
23:35
A man approaches the ticket automat next to my seat. He is carrying a tiny plastic bag. He opens it and takes out his wallet. He carries his wallet in a small white plastic bag! He gets his ticket and puts the change back to his wallet. He makes me so smile.
23:36
On my other hand there is a woman reading a book. She is about my age, has somewhat a transparent figure but all in all makes a pretty impression. I glance at her feet and realize her right foot is almost five centimeters shorter than the left one, you can see it by her shoes. The one shoe does not support her at all it seems, but she is still wearing high heels. I wonder if she can buy her shoes in different sizes…
23:40
My train is here. Just before I enter it, I see a teenage girl giggling with a boy. And I could swear she is wearing grey two-piece pajamas. I prefer to sit on the left side in the train. The author of the week is Knellwolf and I open his book of criminal short stories but it is difficult to concentrate.
Time Out.
It is quite remarkable how time has different measures in those two countries close to my heart. To Estonian calculations I am getting to a point where my great uncle – a proud Estonian, Ph.D. in Economics – tells me that if I were to study more I would be too old to ever find one to marry. Besides, according to him, men would not like one with a doctor’s degree anyway – too much for keeping at home. If that should ever go down to that – I am not going to give up one for another anyway and might as well stay single. Or in Switzerland, for that matter. (Joke)
Lunchtime.
The two Estonian guys come to have lunch at the house I am currently sitting. I cook around two kilos of spaghetti and at the table, a decision is somehow made that they will swim along Aare-river from Rubigen to Berne. This is what… 20 kilometres?
16:40
I take them to Postauto. I explain the driver why the two guys enter his bus wearing only swimming trunks. I myself take the backbag with all their belongings and we take a couple of pictures. We are told by somebody that it takes 20 minutes by river to Berne.
17:01
I enter the blue train from Worb to Berne. I love this Knellwolf - he has the sweetest crime stories, like the one where a daughter introduces her boyfriend to her father and the latter is disgusted by the 64-year old English hobbit that kisses his 27-year old beauty in public. He kills the boyfriend out of jealousy and rage. Some time later he then receives a fax from Lilian thanking him for helping her get rid of her problems - she is now the sole inhebitor of the late millionaire. She said she had been convinced all along her father would do that to his beloved daughter. I a bizarre way it is one of the most beauiful stories I have read.
17:45 or so.
I am in Marzili beach at Aare. According to our calculations, the guys should be here already. But they are not.
17:50
I realize I have forgotten their backbag in the train. I dial the infoline. Instead, fire department answeres. I hang up. I call Claudia. She tells me the right info line number and I finally get connected with the railway station. They tell me to call back in ten minutes. Guys are nowhere to be seen. I now have to wait.
Time Out.
In the country of great watches, time ticks differently. Here I am a girl hopping around in my office and feeling no pressure what so ever from the society to produce offspring. Quite to the contrary, had I to stand in Pampers line at Migros I would get the oh-so-young-looks. Do not get me wrong, I respect children but let me use the hospitality of a nation to still be one myself. Shit indeed - how could I forget the backbag!
18:00
The longest ten minutes in my life are over. According to the unfriendly railway man the backbag is back in Worb. Thank God for the honesty of the Swiss. I call Claudia again. This time I am getting worried about the guys. She tells me it must take at least an hour to swim from Rubigen to Berne. But even with that calculation they should be here by now.
18:30
Claudia tells me I should maybe have them announced by the loudspeaker. She also thinks I should perhaps do it in Estonian, this way it would not sound so embarrassing…
18:59
The guys arrive – wet, excited and cold. The water in Aare is 18 degrees. I am so happy to see them. They are happy to see me. They have been swimming for about an hour and a half. And they are still happy even if I tell them that I do not have their money, cell phones or shoes. I leave them in the sun to go for the backbag…
Time Out.
Time does indeed seem to have different dimensions. The dimension of expectations, for instance. In Estonia, the general formula seems to be if you do not do it now you are two years too late: the earlier the higher heels, the later at work the better boyfriend. The light must be bright and burn fast. Yet again – it is not always bad at all. Moving my towels and flippers out from the parents house when I was eighteen I was also granted a certain kind of security that as long as I have my hands, head and two blue eyes that still see I am alright – the stream takes me along to the real life anyway.
20:30
I am back. Marzili has closed at 20:00. There are two guys waiting for me on the street wearing nothing but swimming trunks.
21:00
Portugal versus Germany. We are having a fine dinner and drinking several beers to it.
23:25
I am waiting for my train to Worb in Bern Bahnhof. Weird things catch my eye.
tinkerblond - 10. Jul, 11:58
