Zurich: Cheese, Lakes, Cheese, Mountains, Cheese, and Cheese

In September 2022, Lauren and I traveled to Zurich. It was always tough to travel together during her medical residency, as time off was rare and trying to organize flights to maximize our time within a very short window was a headache. After a failed trip to Greece during her intern year (our March 2020 trip cut short after just a few days when the President announced the border would be closed because of the rising threat of COVID-19), we didn’t often entertain the idea of trips to far-off lands during the remainder of her training.

That is, until her fourth year, when between a wedding I was attending in Turkey and her own bachelorette party, we saw a window of opportunity: 4-5ish days where we could meet up somewhere new.

I looked at places that would be both convenient for Lauren to fly to from Philly, and for me to fly to from Turkey. And after a lengthy search, I found that Zurich ticked our required boxes for timing.

Lauren would fly right after work on Saturday, and land Sunday afternoon. And I would fly early in the morning on Sunday, in the wee hours after dancing all night at the wedding, and land Sunday just before her. The perfect plan!

Despite airline strikes in Germany, we arrived on time and met up at the airport. After the appropriate amount of canoodling hellos, we headed into Zurich to check into our hotel, the Zurich Marriott Hotel. The Marriott was in a great spot for us: right along the main river thoroughfare and an easy walk to anywhere we wanted to go. And unlike a lot of European hotels, the beds would actually fit my uncomfortably long bod.

We wanted to make the most of our time in Zurich, while letting each experience breathe and not get too rushed between dozens of activities. So we divided each day into a theme and organized our events accordingly:

  • Day 0: Arrival and Exploring the Town
  • Day 1: Hike Day
  • Day 2: Lake Day
  • Day 3: Museum & Culture Day
  • Day 4: Departure

This let us really dial into the different experiences we were interested in. If there’s anything more exciting than fun, it’s regimented fun!

Day 0: Exploring the Town

After dropping our bags at the hotel, we took a stroll along the Limmat River into town. As we walked by, we saw people swimming in the river all the way down to Lake Zurich, which got us quite excited for our Lake Day. But that wouldn’t be coming for a while, so we buried our excitement deep down and continued walking to town.

We strolled through Old Town, passing wieners and beer places galore. I was obviously in heaven, but wanted to save my appetite for dinner. We found the Grossmünster, a church built in the 1100-1200s with two huge towers (one of the most famous landmarks in Zurich, probably?), and climbed to the top of one for a great view of the city and lake. And Lauren didn’t even burst into flames after entering a church!

I tried snapping a few pics of my minifig, thinking I’d rekindle my Instagram account, though I never posted them. Until now! Behold!

Based on how nothing is actually in focus, I’m realizing why I never posted this one.
This is actually not taken from the top of the tower, it’s an illusion. Don’t jump, Minifig!

Things were heating up, and anyone that knows me knows that even looking at a single stair can cause my sweat to flow like a river in Switzerland, so we stopped outside the opera house by the Grossmünster at a little cafe. There, we sat in a classic European square and had a classic European refreshment: the Aperol spritz.

Ah, the Aperol spitz… what an experience! Colorful and chilled, bitter and burp-inducing. A treat to be sure, and a welcome one.

As it was getting close to dinner time, we walked across the river, across the cobblestones, to Restaurant Zeughauskeller. There we sat outside and had beer and sausage, wine and charcuterie. Heaven for us both.

Restaurant Zeughauskeller (god bless you) is inside an old 15th century armory. Weapons and armor adorn the walls, though the Swiss are notoriously a neutral, non-warring folk. But it makes for great decor.

The food was traditional Swiss fare, with recipes dating back generations. I gobbled down a good number of wiener and had some delicious local beers, while Lauren sampled the famed Riesling from nearby Germany.

And after dinner, full enough to burst, we decided to walk it off. Hand-in-hand, we ambled along the river again, back to the hotel for sleep. Nothing more romantic than a stroll through the European autumn, someone might say (probably).

Day 1: Lake Day

Lake Day! Everyone loves a lake day. Our buried excitement from seeing the swimmers the day before bubbled out of us with all the force of a cheese on the lactose intolerant. We put on our trunks and swim suits and headed back east to big old Lake Zurich. Our destination was a little farther than anticipated, but we were able to stop for sausages on the way to replenish our energy.

We paid to enter the “pool” at Stranded Tiefenbrunnen, which had lockers, bathrooms, and a large section of lakefront with some diving platforms we could swim out too. No actual pool, but that’s Europe for you. We spent our day lounging on the grass, reading, and swimming in the water. It was incredibly clear and fresh water, so we didn’t have to get anything from the snack bar when we got thirsty!

After hours of lounging, swimming, and generally frolicking, we dried off and headed back into town for dinner. Right outside the Grössmunster, we grabbed a table at Restaurant Le Dezaley Zurich, where we split a pot of fondu.

Fondu is a famously Zurich dish, though it is typically saved for cold winter months when people need a hot cheese to warm up and get all their gas out to heat their homes. But many places will still serve it year round, and having been in the crisp mountain lake water all day, we were ready to be warmed. It was expectedly delicious.

With bellies full of cheese and Aperol spritz, we again made the walk back to our hotel to sleep and rest up for our big active day.

Day 2: Hike Day

After guzzling wieners and bowls of cheese, we knew we would need an active day on our itinerary to earn such tasty treats. So we planned for a day spent hiking the mountains of Switzerland. Switzerland is a notoriously lumpy land, full of mountains and valleys, inclines and declines. Not for the faint of legs!

Rising early, we caught two trains to reach the now-closed Sattel-Aegeri railway station, situated on the outskirts of the town of Sattel, in the Swiss canton of Schwyz (look ma, no vowels!). We had to get up to Mostelberg to begin our hike, and while there was a cable car that would go straight there, we decided to be fit and walk the 3 miles uphill to that town. Bold, and it would certainly come back to haunt us as we got into the main hike.

Once in Mostelberg, we had a coffee and snack before turning our legs back on and getting our hike going. We walked across the Skywalk suspension bridge, and then a few more hours uphill past country houses, cows, and scenic vistas, up to the bench on top of Hochstuckli. It was a lot of walking, and our dogs were certainly barking, but the views were amazing. We spent a lot of time taking pictures up there (do it for the ‘gram, I kept telling my legs).

Lauren posing on the Skywalk suspension bridge. I didn’t like looking down, it was very high.
Sometimes you need to rest your blocks on your way to the summit!
Moo.
Lauren climbing her way to Jesus.
Lauren posing at the top — queen of the mountain! Ready to get our legs amputated.
It’s a lot harder of a hike when your legs are small.

On the way back down, we had lunch at Mostelberg, before opting to take the gondola to the bottom. It was a good choice too, since it began raining. Perfect timing! From there, we hopped on the train and returned to Zurich.

After showering off the dirt and pain, we walked (oof) to dinner at Rheinfelder Bierhalle, which is a classic Swiss beer hall. There, we both had some well-earned beers to cheers to our fitness. For dinner, I had the Jumbo Jumbo Cordon Bleu (because Lauren’s nickname in high school was Jumbo Jumbo). It turns out, a Jumbo Jumbo is a giant flattened cordon bleu, and it is amazing.

After a few steins, the day began catching up to us. We left the beer hall and grabbed a gelato at Dieci Gelateria before turning.

Day 3: Culture Day

In search of a day of culture, we mapped out some museums we wanted to hit, and took a stroll towards the lake before stopping at a small juice cafe for breakfast. The cafe was on an historic street, Augustinergasse, but I don’t remember exactly why it was historic. I don’t think it was for the juice place.

From there, we checked out the Swiss National Museum. Some cool exhibits, though they seemed to go to a lot of lengths to excuse their problematic neutrality during WW2. Overall, pretty cool, and definitely earned some culture points.

With that out of the way, we went to the real museum we wanted to see: the Lindt Home of Chocolate. I had never been a big Lindt person, though Lauren was, so we made it a priority to go for the history and also lots and lots of free samples.

Chocolate lives here.

We learned how chocolate is farmed, how the Lindt family got so popular, and all sorts of other fun chocolate facts. Then we had more and more samples of all the different flavors, and I got diabetes, probably. Before heading out, we grabbed another Aperol spritz in the museum bar. I decided I never wanted to eat another Lindt chocolate again.

Heaven for Lauren and also dentists.

We decided we enjoyed our Lake Day so much, we had to go back. So we did! And relaxed in the sun, hoping its rays would dissolve the kilos (a European measurement that means “pounds”) of chocolate inside us. And maybe it did, because we were hungry enough to try a new restaurant for dinner.

The restaurant, Raclette-Stube, was a fantastic little place. We had some delicious raclette and fondu, still spiting my lactose intolerance, and it was all amazing. We ended the day with another moonlit stroll along the river, romance in the air and cheese chugging along through our systems.

Day 4: Saying Goodbye

We woke with grief in our hearts: not only were we leaving that day, but we were also splitting up and going our separate ways for the next five days.

We had one more walk along the river early in the morning, when the town is quieter. We stopped for a traditional European breakfast (minus the cigarette) somewhere along the river close to the lake, before making our way to the airport.

One last picture of our favorite river in Zurich!

At the airport, Lauren grabbed a huge bag of chocolates to bring home to her girlies. No matter how many we had eaten the day before, she still didn’t hate them.

And that’s it! Lauren boarded her flight back to the States to go to her bachelorette party in Cape May and I went on to visit my friend Fred in Copenhagen. A very good trip for the time we had, and really great to get to travel together again.

From the Archives: Lindeman Discovers Hidden Talent

Originally published October 6, 2011

The Princeton University Ballet held an introductory class on September 24, 2011. One of the leaders of the PUB shared an invite for the event on Facebook. Unsurprisingly, Tommy Lindeman, Class of 2014, decided to make an appearance.

“I originally did it just to support [a friend in PUB],” said Lindeman. “But as the day approached, it became something more to me.” At 3PM on the dot, Lindeman walked into the ballet room wearing a sleeveless T-shirt, leggings, and a headband to catch the sweat that would undoubtedly come from his efforts.

Unknown to Lindeman, from that point on, things would just get worse. “I had a great time,” said Lindeman, who received some unfounded confidence with the presence of teammates H. Kohl, Class of 2013, and A. Amico, Class of 2013. “I think I really showed the PUB that I could be a real asset to their group.”

More of an “ass” than an “asset,” Lindeman leapt across the room with no signs of balance, motor skills, or self-respect. “I had a little trouble pointing my toes,” said Lindeman, “but I don’t think that held me back at all.” But it did, his constant foot cramps made him spasm through the various motions like an inebriated centipede.

“Keeping time was a real issue for him,” said a PUB representative. “Also, he couldn’t really move well, or correctly. His arms flopped around in the wrong directions. I don’t know who he was following, but it wasn’t anyone in that room.” In fact, others remarked, it looked like he might have been having an epileptic seizure.

Lindeman, oblivious to his inability to make any of his movements look even remotely natural, continued to brag about his self-proclaimed skills. “I crushed the jumping, I could jump higher than anyone else. That might not have been the objective, but I did it, and I did it well.”

When combined with twirling across the room, Lindeman’s jumping proved to be less than amazing. “He started running at top speed, spun, and jumped,” said the PUB rep. “He fell and immediately started crying.”

“Yeah, I totally fooled them all with my fake crying,” said Lindeman. “They all bought it. Suckers.” He later claimed his eyes were red only because his contacts were bothering him.

Even the basic stances proved difficult for him. “I thought I got the four stances down pretty well. Or six stances. Probably six, that sounds right.” These stances led into the final lesson: bowing to your teacher. No one in attendance was amused by his lack of talent. “He even managed to butcher that, and the bow is the easiest part!”

“At the end, I got a sticker for participating,” said Lindeman. “They complimented me, and thanked me for coming. It was nice of them, but I could tell they were envious of my skills. And they should be; maybe I’ll actually join. I figure I can’t really suppress my gift, that would be selfish.”

[Ed. Note:

A few months later, Lindeman attended PUB’s spring show, and was proud to see that his efforts had been recorded on video, and were shown during intermissions to amuse the crowd.

“I guess my invitation to perform was lost in the mail,” rationalized Lindeman. “So they did the next best thing and showed the video of me mastering the craft.

“The video quality was a bit of a joke though, everyone in the audience was laughing at how bad it looked.”]

From the Archives: Lindeman Decides to Lie to Children

Originally published October 5, 2011

“I’m the guy that makes the waves in the ocean,” said Tommy Lindeman, Princeton Class of 2014, to a small boy on the beach this past summer. “I’m actually making the water really rough right now so that your mom doesn’t let you go in.”

After years of telling the truth and being kind to kids, Lindeman has decided to make a complete 180°. Prompted by what he calls the “naivete of children,” he will begin telling them things that are completely false, but sound like they could be true.

“Hopefully they fall for it, and in the future they’ll get embarrassed by their incorrect knowledge,” remarked Lindeman. “That’s my one goal, to make these kids feel bad about themselves.”

There is a distinction to be made, according to Lindeman. “These lies aren’t little white lies, like Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy, or all dogs go to heaven. I want these kids to have no doubt that what I say is true, because these things could possibly make sense. They come from a sort of false intuitive reason.”

Lindeman put a lot of thought into each of his lies. “Right now, I think I’ve got a couple great ones in the tank, ready to go. One is, when you breathe out into cold air, the foggy air that comes out of your mouth is actually the tail of your soul. Your soul looks like a ghost that was rammed down your throat, and when it gets cold, it gets smaller and the tail slips out. Why do moms and dads kiss? Because they’re sharing their souls. And why do you give people CPR? Because you’re giving them part of your soul to bring them back to life. It just makes sense, at least to the little idiots.”

Children weren’t always terrible things to Lindeman, but months of sitting on the beach with kids pestering him with inane and unintelligent questions have soured them for him. He no longer enjoys seeing their smiling faces, nor does he find anything they do to be cute or endearing. Ultimately, this new choice of life will, he believes, be his counter to every horrible moment that he has ever had to spend around them.

But this new lifestyle doesn’t come without it’s own problems. Lindeman was chastised by the mother of the small boy whom he convinced he controlled the waves. “She just went off on me,” said Lindeman, “screaming about how I wasn’t allowed to lie to her son. Maybe if she watched her kid and didn’t let him come up and bother me for so long, it wouldn’t have happened. But it did, and I’m happy about it.”

Lindeman has recently readied another good “false fact” to begin telling children. “Chicken noodle soup’s noodles are actually the brains of chickens. Think about it, ‘using your noodle’ refers to using your brain, and brains actually look like layers of noodles. I’ll ask the kids if they ever played that Halloween game where they get blindfolded and put their hands in spaghetti while their friends or parents told them it was brains. So brains are noodles, and chicken noodle soup is actually chicken brain soup.”

Beyond the basic thrill of misleading children, Lindeman also thinks that he is benefiting them. “I believe in the end, I’m actually helping these kids. The world is cold and unforgiving. The sooner they learn that nothing can be accepted as true and that most people in the world are awful, the sooner they can grow up. Actually, that’s a lie. I don’t care about that crap at all; I just want to lie to kids.”

From the Archives: Lindeman Furthers Education In England, Forsakes God And Country

Originally published August 29, 2011

In the late hours of Friday, August 26th, Jack Lindeman boarded the plane that would take him from the United States to Great Britain. He plans on studying at Cambridge for the next two years, returning only for occasional breaks.

“We all originally thought he was going over [to England] for something useful,” said Lindeman’s brother Stephen. “It turns out, he’s not a spy. Not even a little bit. And he says he doesn’t plan on doing any sort of sabotage. We’re all really disappointed in him.”

Lindeman, a graduate of Princeton University Class of 2011, was accepted into the University of Cambridge several months ago. Rather than joining the workforce and helping to revitalize his home country’s economy, he opted instead to continue his education.

“I just don’t know what we did wrong,” said his mother Joan. “I thought we raised him right, neither of his brothers seem like they want to betray their country like this.” Her sentiments were echoed by both the President of the United States, and the general American public.

While many people immediately think the worst of Lindeman, some believe he might actually have ulterior motives. “Just look at the way their government is run,” said an ignorant family acquaintance who requested to remain anonymous. “There’s a monarchy in place, and if you know anything about current events, there’s only a queen on the throne, no king. I think he’s planning to make moves on that Elizabeth II, to become the king. And I really don’t blame him, she’s quite the looker.” Lindeman denied any sort of plans to pursue a romance with the Queen.

“It’s upsetting that he’s joined the redcoats,” said Kate Baker, Princeton Class of 2012. “I thought he was better than that, but it turns out he likes to fraternize with losers. And they’re obviously losers. America won, we beat them. And they basically begged for our help in World War Two, they couldn’t handle Hitler on their own. I guess losers are drawn to other losers.”

Lindeman must harbor a large amount of hatred for America—and all of the Americans he knows —if he is willing to trade in steak and eggs for fish and chips. “I feel like he utterly despises all of us,” said Baker. “And I think I speak for everyone when I say, ‘good riddance.’”

From the Archives: Lindeman Prepares for Arrival of Hurricane Irene

Originally published August 11, 2011

Wearing a trash-bag poncho, Tommy Lindeman walked around his grandmother’s summer house in Cape May, NJ as he prepared the building for the coming storm. “This is going to be big, a real game-changer.”

Hurricane Irene has already hit parts of the southern United States, and will still be a Category 2 or Category 3 storm by the time it reaches Cape May. There is a 90% chance the eye of the hurricane will hit the small island at the southern-most point of New Jersey.

“This experience is so alien to me,” said Lindeman as he taped windows and locked away patio furniture. “But I feel as if I’ve been preparing for this my entire life.” He then went into the tool shed and pulled out a sledgehammer, a large shovel, and some barbed-wire. “Still, I am having a hard time deciding whether to use the hammer or the shovel. Both would work pretty well.”

While the storm itself will be a problem, the main focus of Lindeman’s work is to prepare for the aftermath. “I can only assume that there will be large gangs of survivors traveling across the island looting, starting fires, and partying too loudly at night. I really can’t stand for that, I need to be able to sleep at night.”

Lindeman explained that he felt he had watched enough post-apocalyptic movies to know what sort of role he had to take. He plans on roaming the island, living off the remains of humanity’s past accomplishments, while trying to find his place in a new, godforsaken world.

“There obviously won’t be any sort of coherent society, so normal laws won’t apply,” said Lindeman. “I’ll be able to take food and other essential supplies from abandoned or semi-abandoned stores and homes without feeling any guilt. And that’s very important to me.”

The problem of who to trust is also something he prepared for: “I don’t think I can let anyone too close. There’s not really any reason to, and I think I’ll get by alright by myself. It doesn’t seem that strange to me. You could say I’ve never really trusted anyone in my life.”

Irene is supposed to make landfall sometime late Saturday night or early Sunday morning. Winds will reach upwards of 100 miles per hour, and waves will average out at 16 feet above their normal height.

“I’m not sure what the new form of currency will be,” said Lindeman as he sealed dry socks and Peanut Chews into a water-proof container. “Because of that, I’m collecting everything: coats, plants, bottle caps, even jokes. I won’t be the poorest person in the Cape May Wasteland.”

Despite the unknowns, Lindeman still has his eye on the prize. “The most important thing is looking the look. If I don’t look like a man struggling to live in a world that desperately wants him dead, how can I even bare to live at all? Short answer: I can’t. In fact, that’s the only answer.”

Lindeman plans on wearing torn jeans, construction boots, raggy t-shirts, and a leather duster. “Maybe a hat, too,” he said. “Who knows? Gotta look good.” Every article of clothing will be covered in dirt and grime, without exception. His main weapon of choice is still undecided, either the sledgehammer wrapped in barbed-wire, the shovel wrapped in barbed-wire, or just a lot of barbed-wire, but he will always be carrying a shotgun — if he’s able to acquire one. “It’s just a standard necessity. And it looks awesome, even unloaded. Everything comes back to the look.”

The storm is supposed to be one of the worst Cape May has seen in a century, worse than one in 1944 that washed away a large portion of the town. Residents have already been forced to leave in a mandatory evacuation but Lindeman chose to stay, mainly for the “man points.”

“I could be that mysterious guy that always shows up in the nick of time to save innocents from being killed by marauding bands of savages,” said Lindeman, as he hammered nails into a baseball bat and wrapped it in barbed-wire. “Or I could be one of those savages. A lot of the details are still up in the air.”