Luzin My Bearings

#37: [Day 5] Loving Luzern
Lucerne, Switzerland 5:14pm

Okay. I'm about to go crazy. Apart from the prices of things here in Europe being insanely sky-high, all keyboards here in Lucerne (or shall I say "Luzern" in true Swiss fashion?) are set up to drive the rest of the PC-using people of the world nuts. The Z is mixed up with the Y. I can't figure out how to make the number sign appear on the screen, and the location of the question mark poses such a big question for me. But I'm doing quite fine.

On to more interesting things. Can I just say? Many people rave about Italian men. Oft have we heard the term, "Italian Stallion" but I surprisingly didn't take any liking to them, seeing instead plain horses. Oops sorry. That was mean. They just didn't look clean enough. They could use a good scrubbing. And whatever they're drinking that's making them red, they better lay off that too.

The Swiss men on the other hand are different. In my limited circle, I've never quite heard of anyone saying how gorgeous Swiss men are. But I'm pleasantly surprised to see that they are. Very tall with very smooth pale skin. They have this kind look about them. As if they'll run to you with bandages and a Swiss Army knife if you happen to bang your forehead on a post because of staring too long at them. If Italian women are too beautiful for their men (the Italian women are in a class of their own), Swiss men are too beautiful for their women.

On our first day in Venice, this Italian guy in a cream trench coat approached me as I was photographing the fabulous sights in Piazza San Marco. He was dashing but I didn't see any reason to extend the conversation beyond basic pleasantries - i.e. Buon Giorno. For one, he didn't speak a word of bloody English. Another, he was good-looking but he looked like a mighty playboy who flirts for a living.

This morning, as I was walking along this strip of shops in Lucerne, this Swiss guy said "Hi Madame" but I was too stupid to have that line register in my brain early enough. Hence, I was already more than a couple of feet away when I realized he was being friendly. Now I'm sitting in this Internet Cafe blogging while mentally scratching my head. "Where's a bloody post to run into when you need one?"