It's the most curious thing: I could have sworn that yesterday was Monday, which means that today is only supposed to be Tuesday.
But it's Thursday.
I seem to have fallen through the rabbit hole of time.
I'm late, I'm late, for a very important date. I'm late, I'm late, for a very important date.
I knew that chasing that white rabbit who was holding a large pocket watch and wearing a smart waistcoat was a bad idea: never trust animals that are better dressed than you, and own a time piece. But I thought he was the Easter Bunny. I really wanted more chocolate. But instead of falling into a chocolate stupor, I'm lifting my head to realize that two days have apparently gone speeding by and it's Thursday, not Tuesday.
Normally I love it when this happens because we're a lot closer to the weekend than I thought, but I had plans this week! Plans to get together with people!
So how about I stop moaning and instead take you waaaay back to Sunday (can you remember that far back?) and tell you all about what Dan and I did on Easter Sunday.
On Saturday we went onto Bern's information page to get an idea of what Easter festivities would be happening around our fair city on Sunday, and I spotted a gathering that was solely dedicated to egg cracking.
"WE MUST GO TO THIS," I shouted in caps lock and italics.
After the ringing in Dan's ears stopped, he agreed that we should go. Now my dear Canadians (who don't have any Swiss or German monkeys hanging off their family trees) you're probably wondering why I was so giddy to go to an egg cracking festival. Well the thing is that the Swiss are really quite fond of consuming copious amounts of hard boiled eggs around Easter.
I mean, you should have seen the brightly coloured hard boiled egg displays at Coop and Migros. It was insane how many eggs there were, and after watching a sweet old couple carefully fill their egg carton with a rainbow of colour, I finally realized *ding* this egg eating phenomenon is a big thing here. And when Dan and his colleagues got off work early last Thursday, Dan called me to say that he was still going to be late, because they were all going to be sitting around drinking some beer and 'cracking eggs' before heading their separate ways for the long weekend.
It was baffling and hilarious to me. The point of egg cracking as M'dame Jo and then later, Dan, explained to me is each person taps their egg, end to end. Whoever has the weakest egg will suffer a crack. Then you turn your eggs around and tap on the opposite end. Again, whoever has the weaker-ended egg will suffer the crack, then each person takes the uncracked side of their egg and the two strong ends bash against each other. The person who's strong-ended egg doesn't crack is the winner.
Got it? Okay, this will come in really handy for understanding what the egg cracking festival was about. Close your eyes and imagine a whole bunch of strangers (all who are bringing their own hard boiled eggs) gathering in a square, then approaching each other and offering...to bump eggs.
Yeah. It's as awesome as it sounds.
Only problem is we missed it because we incorrectly assumed this event couldn't possibly be over before 11:30 a.m. on Easter Sunday.
And the Swiss morning person strikes again and ruins all my fun!
But we still did have a good time wandering in Bern. There was a bit of jazz playing down at the Muenster that we took in, Bern's flags were flying, people and dogs were running through fountains, and the sky was a nice white light for taking a few pictures.
(the little girl was very concerned her mom would be dragged through the water by the dog, so she was trying to 'hold [her] back')
Internet, I double dog dare you to go up to someone and ask to bump eggs.
Double. Dog. Dare.
Disclaimer: if you, the reader, ask someone to bump eggs, and you live outside of Switzerland, you aren't carrying eggs, it's not Easter, and you find yourself getting punched in the face, the writer of this here blog can't be held responsible for such consequences. I do however reserve the right to laugh at you.