Up and In (As Opposed To Down And Out) in Zurich

Started a new job last week here in Zurich and already I'm in love with the city.

28 May

I've had some false starts here, no apartment, getting an apartment, and in the interim, staying at a hotel. One would have thought Swiss efficiency would make the hotel perfect, but on the one day I decide to order room service, the kitchen goes into meltdown.

So, I jump on the tram to travel 2 stops to the Thai take-away I've had my eye on for a while. When I get there its shut.

Hmm...

So I go round the corner and see fried chicken on the menu of this take away. I walk in and freeze: its a West Indian joint. While I weigh up my options, I'm dragged into the shop where I place my order with 2 voluptous ladies behind the counter. Then I order a beer and sit down.

While I wait for my chips (not plaintain) and chicken (from a plantation), I survey the crowd and weigh up my options. If my wrist gets too limp, I'm dead meat.

The mother of the proprietress comes up to me and starts chatting in a foreign tongue. She is a small lady, and I have no idea what she's saying but nod politely. She hugs me. I smell lavender, soap, and stale tobacco. A shout from behind the counter in French. 'Leave the Chink alone. He's here for fried chicken, leave him alone'. I smile wanly and turn to my mobile phone.

A shout. My order is ready. I get my take-away and leave.

I forget to ask for chilli.

I'm typing this as I'm sat by my single bed. One more night and next week I'll have an apartment.

I open a take away box and tentatively pick at a chip. The texture is potato. The taste is faint banana. Plaintain.

OH is away in Uganda.

I cry.

I cry because I thought I had it all together: great job, brilliant pay.

Now I feel so alone.

All over again.