...is a pretty little town with lots of trams scurrying about (and cars, coolly moving in the same road space, darting out of their way just in time). Many friendly pigeons in the town square too. But suspiciously Indian-looking, not fat and furry like you’d expect pigeons in rich countries to be.
NO ONE speaks English here. And more surprisingly, we received blank looks when we said “BaselWorld Fair” to people at the station. Everywhere else in the country, it’s the number one subject of discussion.
You can get sick of anything. In England last year, it got so that each time I saw another castle I would pray for Huns to materialise and tear it down. In Switzerland, the grass is irritatingly green. One can only take so much of greenery.