Von Donal McLaughlin - Also! Uf Wiederluege! Merci — It’s almost time to use that phrase oft overheard on the Number 5 tram. My final days in Bern are approaching. Six weeks ago, it felt like I’d pulled the plug in a rather full bath: the water sinking slowly around me, though there was plenty still to enjoy. Now, it’s a matter of time before that rude gurgle & slurp that precedes the disappearance of the little water that’s left.
Once upon a time I was a keen photographer. I’d carry the bag, the equipment; footer about with lenses. Nowadays, I leave all that behind.
I’ve taken a single photograph here.
What follows are some of the other images, episodes, I’ll take home:
ROMANDIE
* lost in the blues, mauves, lilacs; the haze & mist opposite: FRANCE
* from the Lausanne train: what look like black chickens across the terraces on every hillside each Weinstock cut right back
* from Glion: the topography of Montreux below & Lausanne ahead; France impressionistic opposite
* the haute école de valeurs humaines pour jeunes filles we pass by car; girls playing netball, in white blouses & skirts; us laughing at the French for it
* sunrise over the Rochers-de-Naye 150 million years ago (caption beneath a photo)
* above us, the first wasps, feasting on pussy-willow, as we read a description of the Esculape Grass-Snake; its penchant for lizards & rodents
* Good Friday in French; the long reading in which the Bishop, bless him, played Jesus; me longing for more Scarlatti
BERN
* the information panels I keep approaching which turn out to be 15 lines on Parkordnung; 10 on Verbot
* the dismantling of the Frauenwache at the Bundeshaus: a huge red F, blue R & green U tilted against the side of their van
* the first splashes of cherry blossom on the hillside below the Rosengarten
* that stunning view: the Altstadt from the Rosengarten
* outside LOEB: heavily armed police protecting a window-full of rabbits (it looked like) on what was the first anniversary of the War against Iraq starting (I learned subsequently)
* 2am, Gerechtigkeitsgasse: out from under the Lauben, a guy, mid-pee, unaware of the police car arriving over his shoulder; the synchronicity of his zip going up & the window winding down
* Easter Sunday in German; the Auferstehung erst recht sermon in which German sounded ancient unlike Mozart’s Agnus Dei as we turned for ‘Peace be with you’ — ‘Der Friede sei mit dir beziehungsweise Ihnen!’
* my five-year-old nephew asking: ’Why is Switzerland always so peaceful??‘
* the same boy exclaiming (at 10 on a weekday morning): ‘There’s nobody in this place, except us!’
* the same boy vowing to learn German, and then ‘the aliens’ language’ so that when he meets them he can say, ‘Calm down, calm down, it’s only a commercial!’
* Langenthal: spontaneously, halfway through my reading, the pupils sing the Swiss Psalm for me
* Langenthal: the question from the girl at the front: ‘What’s your relationship to the Virgin Mary nowadays?’
* from the train back to Bern: der Schimmel ohne Reiter
* outside LOEB: a bear attempts the tightrope above the tramlines while two legs all that remains of the last person to fail step off Perron 2 * Marzili: clouds of dandelion seed fill the air; the couple on the bench too engrossed, surely, to be playing she loves me (not)
* the pedestal without a statue, just off Rathausplatz; the iron staircase to help you climb onto it & pose
* the cathedral by night the tower lit, as if from within
* the cathedral by night that great blue light as, slowly, the lanterns dim
* the cathedral by night in that first magic moment of darkness
* the thought of living opposite; of reading ‘Mach’s na’ daily
ZURICH
* the queue of May-the-First radicals at the hole-in-the-wall of PostFinance
* near the Ganymed statue (Bürkliplatz): the frantic flapping of seagulls, inches above the water, as here, there & everywhere (but not where the gulls are), fish small fry leap out of the water. the elegant superiority of the swan
* outside the Grossmünster: the punk with the Mohican hairstyle, shouting: ‘SURPRISE Strassenmagazin: die intellektuelle Antwort auf Playstation!’
* bus-stop at Central: a 50-something with pigtails disturbs my enjoyment of Wilhelm Tell: ‘Dein Schweizer Staat hat die Dame aufgefordert, das Land zu verlassen.’ She nods in a direction where I can see nobody. ‘Das ist deine Schwester!’
* Sprüngli: a mother lifts her toddler from a barstool at the window & turns towards the bar. we hear something crack. the saucer beneath the silver cream-jug is now in bits on the floor. what mum doesn’t see is the cream spilling silently from the jug the boy still holds and I don’t tell her
SOLOTHURN
* the Literaturtage: the readings, the chitchat, the book-stall
* the river, the cathedral, the cafés
* but also the Seilbahn from Oberdorf to Weissenstein; those wonderful wide-open two-seaters (‘bist du schwindelfrei?’); the waiting-your-turn at the Mittelstation; the whoosh before off you go; the views across to the mountains; the marvelling at the technology of yesteryear; technology for which you feel fondness
WEG DER SCHWEIZ
On the eve of the EM in Portugal, I walk the Weg der Schweiz, together with another Scot. It’s not the most challenging longdistance walk we’ve done, but we do it for the symbolism. Inaugurated in 1991, to celebrate 700 years of the Swiss Confederation, the trail goes round the southernmost part of Lake Lucerne. From the Rütli-Wiese, it leads via Seelisberg, Bauen, Flüelen, Sisikon & Morschach back to Brunnen. The 35km are divided into 26 sections, designed to correspond to the 26 cantons with each allotted a length of path proportionate to its population. Every 5mm of the trail represents a Swiss citizen.
I sensed before we started that I might write something; that I could use the route as a framework. Sure enough, a draft now exists. It’s not fiction. More a travelogue. 50,000 characters (or 8,000 words) I wouldn’t have written otherwise. A bonus.
FOOTBALL
From the Platz der Auslandschweizer in Brunnen, the official end of the Weg, we head straight to a pub for the Croatia game. Predictably, the bar has the Swiss flag everywhere; the staff are in Swiss-style Tshirts. All we need’s to paint our faces.
Some moments I remember:
* the national anthem: the players holding hands, the fans arm-in-arm; that getting a laugh, for some reason
* a reference in the commentary to your manager (72) insisting he’s 71!
* Jakob Kuhn: ‘unser Vater’, a fan tells us, pointing to a close-up on screen
* that long high ball, 20 minutes from the end, where it’s come from’s unclear, even in the replay on its way towards an empty Swiss goal; Stiel, realising he’s been caught, out, sees it bounce before him & over his head, still goalward. us freezing as we watch his frantic chase, too far away to be able to help; even when he gets a hand on it & vaguely stalls its momentum, the ball continues agonisingly — next thing, we’re laughin & cheerin, though, for we can see the danger’s clear; Stiel, having stumbled forward, is now behind the ball; flat out on the ground, just about, he halts the ball with his forehead.
* ‘Football not a game for a girl’s boarding school!’ (SF2 commentator)
* England-France in Zurich: a big screen in a station bar (IMAGINE), England a goal up; watching France score twice in injury time
* England-Switzerland on Neuengasse: folk gathering round any Strassencafé with a television; a bar-owner with CHAPUISAT across his shoulders trying to clear the road; threatening to turn the game off
* an hour into your second game & another player’s red-carded: the hardly brutal Swiss now propping up the Fair Play league; the Swiss the tournament’s bad boys!
* reading Fussballerisches with Beat Sterchi, up next to the Rosengarten; the two tellies in the courtyard: Switzerland-France on top of England-Croatia
* the fan spotted at the Zytglogge that night: his huge metal contraption supporting nine flag poles & three huge cowbells
* the closing stages against France & the Swiss dream fades. we shrug & ponder what might ‘ve been, especially with England winning.
* Aber wenn etwas im Fussball keinen Platz hat dann der Konjunktiv (SF2)
PEOPLE ON TRAINS
* the girl opposite, reading ABITUR WISSEN Deutsche Literatur (viel Spass, Mädel!)
*the yelp as the buffet trolley runs over a dog’s paw; the blue of the trolley; the blue of the poor guy’s uniform; the blue of the air as the dog swears
*the woman opposite, on the train to Zurich, falls asleep over the speech she’s preparing (Liebe Kolleginnen -); her background material’s entitled: Finnland — Land der Emanzen, I see
BIFERTENHÜTTE
With a Swiss friend I climb to the Bifertenhütte & cross fields of snow in July! We arrive in Brigels / Breil to see (my first) streetsigns in Romansh. The long walk in & steep climb up — but there are butterflies & flora to reward us.
* the Bifertenstock; its V; the slo-mo cloud drifting over that V
* the last of the snow, now lit, now not, by the little sun that gets through
TRANS SWISS TRAIL
Not content with the Weg der Schweiz, we walk part of the Trans Swiss Trail: Days 29 & 30. From Lugano to Mendrisio. Not content with that, we return the following weekend & walk Isone-Lugano & Mendrisio-Chiasso. From Chiasso, we cross the border and head for Como.
LUGANO
* the thrill of the vegetation: the entirely wooded hills; the green of any meadows * the palmtrees; the cypresses; the warmth of the evening air
* looking across at Monte Brè; the one building atop it lit by the last of the sun * the statue of one Giorgio Washington; the thought of one Giorgio Bush
* lizards scooting off, scarpering into the undergrowth, as we climb San Salvatore * from there via Carona to Morcote, at the tip of the Ceresio pensinula: view after spectacular view onto the lago, the hills
MORCOTE
* the descent: looking onto Santa Maria del Sasso as we negotiate endless steps; the palm trees & cypresses lining our path; the terracotta roofs, the swimming pools
* that evening, the bats under the Lauben, swooping & swerving as we stroll
* the ferry across to Brusino, to approach the next morning’s ascent
* a grasshopper with brilliant green markings settles in position on my boot; shares my perspective, as — feet up on the railings — I look down on the place where we slept
MENDRISIO
* in the shade: a dozen or so old ladies, lined up in their patio chairs, the full length of the old folks’ home; the only sound a pitiful lament — what sounds like a sloweddown banshee wail
TESSERETE
* the church tower: against the backdrop of mountains
SAN CLEMENTE
*surreal: 14 or 15 walkers — with 7 cudchewing llamas in tow!
SAN BERNARDO
* the furnace of 6pm sunshine & the view down onto the lake as we emerge after hours in the forest
PARCO DELLE GOLE DELLA BREGGIA
* 80 million years of geological history: gorges, waterfalls, amazing rock formations. teenagers prepared to tackle what are natural flumes
FURTHER FURTHER IMPRESSIONS
My first impressions (back in April) included a section ‘Slogans. Graffiti. Language’. Here’s what’s caught the eye (or ear) since:
Graffiti
* BIG BROTHER FUCK OFF
* ‘Teachers lie!’
* ‘Feminism’s our minimum demand!’
* ‘War is terrorism with a bigger budget!’ * WAS WÜRDE JESUS TUN? (scratched on a wall of the Bundeshaus)
* WIR BRAUCHEN KEINE (RELIGIÖSEN) FÜHRER (down by the river as the Pope’s due)
Headlines
* Welche Ausländer wollen wir? (FACTS)
* Kranker Papst begrüsst Jugend (at airport)
* Die Angst der Schweizer Fans: Kroaten machen aus uns Cepavcici (Blick)
Quotations (overheard)
* ‚Spezialist hat gsagt: Aspirin ist gut — für Herz und Dings‘
* in the queue for Zurich in Luton: ’What‘s 16% of 4.5 million??’ The younger of the two slips his calculator out as his superior continues: ’Imagine: one customer is 44% of your business! I‘d want to know everything there is and play every angle’
* the Literaturtage, at the urinals: ‘aber das heisst nicht, das es moralisch richtig ist. Das ist immer das Problem-‘
Quotation (read)
* ‚alles, was nicht autobiographisch ist, ist ein Plagiat‘ (Almodovar quoting Paco Umbral in the Sonntagszeitung)
Virus English
Back in March, I started receiving strange emails. For weeks on end, messages arrived from folk I didn’t know. One famous writer sounded furious with me. Another we called at her workplace. Turns out: such nuisance emails are electronically generated. I could believe it — not least when someone called
Donal McLaughlin wrote to Donal McLaughlin, asking ‘do you have an orgasm in the picture?’ Write about it! various folk urged. I might yet. For the moment, let’s ridicule the (not-)English.
English for Spam-mailers.
* ‘do you have an orgasm in the picture?’
(Correct version: are you having an orgasm in the picture?)
* ‘do you have sex in the picture?’ (Correct version: are you having sex in the picture?)
* ‘is that yours?’ (meaning wife)
(Correct version: might this possibly be your lady wife?)
* ‘are you the naked one?’
(Correction version: is that you without any clothes on?)
* ‘you cannot hide yourself’
(Correct version: you cannot hide)
and finally: LITERARY MATTERS
*the joy of finding fellow Scots in bookshops: A L Kennedy, Also bin ich froh; James Kelman, Spät war es, so spät ; of seeing reviews in major Swiss papers
* the pleasure of reading Swiss writers & work I didn’t know: e.g. Walther Kauer’s Spätholz; or Franco Supino’s Ciao amore, ciao, dipping into anthologies to get some sense of range
* Andersch: the excitement of discovering that Gesammelte Werke are due (10 volumes, Diogenes, November); being reminded even by the broschure of the man’s huge influence on me
* in a railway station bookshop: Andersch, as described by Frisch in a letter to Uwe Johnson; an Andersch ‘transformed’ (by ’76); with whom Frisch can converse with ease; in whose company laughter’s possible; a development which ‘opens up the valley’ in which the two men lived
* Andersch: an opportunity to learn from his learning from the past
* Dürrenmatt: being gripped by ‘labyrinthische Erinnerungen’ in Loetscher’s Lesen statt klettern
* Frisch: all these years later, finally reading the Nachrufe
MERCI
Ich möchte mich bei den folgenden Personen sehr sehr herzlich bedanken. Alle haben zum Erfolg meines Aufenthaltes beigetragen — und ich weiss ihre freundliche und grosszügige Art sehr zu schätzen:
Peter Schranz und seinen KolegInnen in der Abteilugn Kulturelles (für alles, wirklich alles); Beat Sterchi (für das Dichter-Essen u. die Einladung zu lesen); Yeboaa Ofuso (für u.a. Solothurn); Franco Supino (für Solothurn & Umgebugn); English Dept der Universität Bern (für die wunderbare Aufnahme — and a dream audienece!); Margret Powell-Joss & Writers’ Works Bern (fort he kind invitation to read); Gymnasium Langenthal (fürs Zuhören zur frühen Stunde!); Regula Fuchs (für ein tolles Gespräch für den BUND); Barbara Mosca (British Council, Bern) & John Cardie (VisitBritain, Zurich) — two gems promoting Britain abroad (contact via www.britishcouncil.org/switzerland, bzw. www.visitbritain.com/chde, & see for yourself!); und last, not least: Stephan & Lukas & Gere von ENSUITE (danke für die Einladung, eure freundliche Aufnahme, sowie den Umgang mit den Texten!)
Bild: Christoph Habich (München)
ensuite, August 2004