Milan proved to be a very efficient city for getting in and out of. We filled up at the petrol station near the hotel then dropped the car off at the Avis terminal in the train station. We wheeled our suitcases along, easily found the lift to the departure level, and walked off it staight onto the platform for our train to Zurich.
On the train, we sat back and readied our cameras- Stuart was the stills photographer and I had the videocam.
The couple behind Stuart- seats were paired, facing each other across a table- outdid each other expounding on their knowledge of what the trip had to offer. From behind me came the strident voices of another couple arguing over the best way to deal with their luggage. The woman’s voice trilled with the accusing notes of the quintessential nag. It was a scene straight out of Agatha Christie; and in my mind there was no doubt who the first murder victim would be.
Lunch in the dining car was stylish; although I was a bit disappointed that we hadn’t all turned up in our evening clothes. M. Poirot would be the man of indeterminate nationality, seated two tables away, pontificating to his companions about goodness knows what throughout his meal.
Back in our assigned seats, we watched the beautiful tableau unfold outside our window. We sliced smoothly through picture-perfect Swiss villages, lovely lakes, and white capped mountains.
It was not the Orient Express, but it was still a great way to travel. With someone else at the helm, Stuart got out of driving and navigating mode and straight into photography mode.
But poor Miss Marple, played in this instance by the lady who sat behind Stuart. She was so excited as we started off from Milan, very active with her camera and doing a running commentary on the scenery. She was now out cold, slumped on the table, suffering from what Poirot would have called a bad case of “mal de train.” Too bad.
At the Zurich airport, Stuart and I called home to our mothers, regaled them with abbreviated tales of our trip so far, and waited for our SIA flight to Singapore.
Wonderful SIA! We had missed it so!
SINGAPORE
In Singapore we had dinner at Beth and Robert’s with Victoria and Bryan, Tisha and David, and their kids. We had seen the girls recently in Hong Kong when they suddenly turned up on a brief shopping trip, and this party was sort of planned then.
The star of the evening was the long-established specialty of the house, the famous vegetable lasagna, as prepared by Beth’s ever-faithful Divina. The venerable recipe, on which this incredibly delicious and unforgivingly fattening dish is based, lies dormant in the recesses of Beth's former life as a gourmet chef.
And as it was David's birthday, we had champagne and cake.
I realized then that I had been traveling a very long time. On this trip, I had attended a wedding, a wedding anniversary, a graduation, and two birthdays.
It was time to go home.
Labels: one long summer, Singapore, Singapore Airlines, Zurich