Oh what? This is isn't the 19th century anymore? Hmm....could of fooled me. Why else would it be taking OVER six weeks to get our Canada shipment when we were told four weeks.
(FYI, I feel I am entitled to make gross exaggerations about the state of port because my grandfather was a sailor all his life, and he told me tall tales that made my toes curl with delight.)
So though we now sit in a more comfortably furnished apartment courtesy of Ikea, there are still a number of items we are anxiously waiting for. And when you are anxiously waiting for treasured pictures and the rest of your clothes, the last thing you want to do is open an email from someone named Hans, who tells you most bluntly:
Major problems in Montreal. Let you know when your stuff ships.
Thanks for that Hans! Thanks for caring about our 'STUFF'! Have a great day! You just brightened mine!
So, all of our things did get a three week head start on leaving Canada before me. Well, at least they were supposed to. I was to arrive in Switzerland, and week later our shipment was to arrive on our doorstep.
But, it hasn't. And because I was a blind and trusting fool, I packed somewhat lightly--especially in the footwear department.
I've been walking the streets of Bern in either hiking shoes, or my somewhat 'elegant' pair of gold Birkenstocks. Guess what guys. In Switzerland, Birkenstocks are house shoes! So to give all you Canadians a clear picture of exactly what I look like to the Swiss, picture me walking around town in my nice blazer, fashionable top, dark skinny jeans...and BUNNY SLIPPERS.
I am a sartorial masterpiece.
On Wednesday, when I met up with The Swiss for our meeting at the community centre, he looked me up and down and said, "You look really nice, but my God you need some proper shoes."
So on Saturday I got some proper shoes. I've never been one for shoe shopping. Carrie Bradshaw baffles me with her footwear fetish. Unless I NEED shoes, I never buy shoes. Never. This doesn't apply to clothes or purses though. Oh no. Just shoes.
Before shoe shopping though, more important items had to be purchased. Dan and I picked our way through the farmer's market where we bought some fresh bread and some fresh cheeses. I was slightly overwhelmed by the vegetable and meat selections and my brain sounded like this:
"Meat vendor over the...veggie vendor here....but this veggie vend....but this meat guy...but what about....over here....then there's.....holy crap!!!!!"
And I suffered a neurological shortage and told Dan "I CAN'T DECIDE! THERE'S TOO MUCH!"
So we had to leave before I collapsed to the ground and started sucking my thumb. We'll go back next weekend, and hopefully I'll be better prepared.
Onto shoe shopping, and it was our lucky day because there happened to be sales happening all over Bern so I got two pretty nice pairs of shoes for half price each.
These make the best noise! Clickety-click. Clickety-click.
So these are my shoe choices until the Canada shipment gets here. After we bought these, we followed our noses to a food market where there were delicious smells of deep-fry coming from the Chinese food cart, and spicy chili from the Mexican food cart, and sizzling BBQ from the sausage cart. But guess what we got?
(p.s. don't mind the umbrella, terribly bad placement)
We sat on wooden benches, while the trees protected us from the light drizzle of rain, and ate our cinnamon- sugar and cheese-herb crepes and watched a chess match.
Yum! Cheese and herb, I'm delighted!
We watched the match play out, and it became increasingly obvious who was going to win.
It got to the point where the guy playing the white pieces had the guy playing the black pieces, somewhat cornered. Though it wasn't an official checkmate, it would have been a never ending chase around the board. So the guy playing the black pieces threw up his hands and made a sort of a "Bah Humbug!" gesture and stalked off the giant chess board and into the crowd.
Poor sport. Poor sport. Poor sport.
No one challenged the winner for another game, so we set off home. And as we walked the sidewalks, me in my sassy red shoes, I felt the familiar pinch and blistering of the new and remembered, "Oh yes, THIS is why I hardly ever go shoe shopping."
Your move Canada shipment, your move.