Sharing is happiness

After 24 hours of true-blue Aussie company my mind is struggling with Norwegian terms and I'll continue in English - for the time being.

To end up where I am now, sickly full of chocolate and very happy I have to go a few years back, to 2001 when I met a girl named Anita during recess at John Paul College in Frankston. Anita was an adorable girl back then (and nothing has changed, so any single, sweet, male readers of this blog can so kindly ask me for her number), and we immediately became friends. We shared the school bus back to Langwarrin, and Anita would so kindly guard me from the weird Langy kids who'd say all sort of things in an aussie accent I hadn't quite mastered yet - as well as from people more close to me, like Dean's insults or rude jokes. She was (and is) extremely funny and we have spent quite some hours laughing and joking around, experiencing what should be experienced during those teen years, and stories of parties, boys, friendship and trust were bouncing off the walls of old JPC. Halfway through year 11 Anita left for New Zealand, leaving behind a teary-eyed assembly, accompagnied by Olivia's interpretation of Amazing Grace.

It took two years and an apartment on Collins Street before I saw Anita again, and we caught up randomly, but less frequently during my last years in Australia. Then Anita decided to move to Dubai to work for Emirates and suddenly she was flown in my direction several times a month. Despite Norwegian setting up a direct route to Dubai the arab airline has never thought about dipping into Norwegian oil money and getting themselves to Oslo, hence, Anita has never come for a visit.

That doesn't mean we haven't tried to catch up though. In 2007 we were only an hour or so apart in Scotland. In 2008 I was in London in April, but she wasn't there til May. In 2009 I spent three months in Southern Africa, one of Emirates most frequented destinations, yet we managed to miss each other by a few days or weeks every time. Anita still hasn't flown to Buenos Aires, so no luck there either, and as I was in Moscow in July, Anita decided to wait until August - 2010 so far brought no luck. But then there's a Norwegian saying "Aldri så galt at det ikke er godt for noe," meaning that even when bad things happen, good things can come out of it. So when my e-mail got a virus and sent out unsolicited junk mail to Tom, Dick and Harry, Anita (very thoughtful of her) replied and said she thought I might have a virus on my computer. I said yep, I sure hadn't started selling cheap mobiles for only $9,99, but appreciated her thoughtfulness and told of upcoming plans of moving to Geneva. In a bi-sentence (and more because it had become a custom) I asked if she didn't have any flights to Switzerland any time soon. Oh, yes! Only four days after I had entered chocolate mekka, Anita boarded a Boing 747 and cruised towards Zürich, where we finally caught up, only to realize that despite all the years that had gone past, it felt like we only saw each other yesterday.

After a delicious buffet breakfast at the Hilton Zürich airport, all courtesy of Emirates and their good treatment of staff, we were dissapointed to find out the Lindt Chocolate factory had shut down their guided tours due to "hygienic purposes." In search for a substitute we landed at Sprungli, a fine confiserie that my mum used to visit back in the 70s when she and her girlfriend took a weekend off their jobs in the Swiss Alps. Sprungli has redone their toilets, so although looking nothing like the toilets at Sydney Opera House, which mum compared them to, it was a fantastic rich and chocolate endulged experience.

After eating more chocholate than recommended by Roede and Atkins combined we ran up the stairs to look at the town from above, followed by strolling the Rodeo Drive of Zürich and window shopping along the lake.

It was sad to say goodbye as Anita had to go back to Dubai on the evening flight, but while I was gathering my stuff the darling had made me a packed lunch of small Luxemburgerlis to bring on the train - small macaroons with fillings that overgo most people's normal imagination.

As I was overlooking Lac Lemán on the return to Geneva I couldn't stop thinking about how fantastic 24 hours can be if you just do your research and make use of every hour, and I can't wait til Anita (or someone else) comes to Geneva for fondue sometime soon! Even if it's just for a weekend I promise it will be worth it!