23 January 2017
Bristol to Brussels to Zurich by plane, via at least three elegant-smelling but unnecessarily obstructive duty free shops, takes me most of the day. Still, I am luckier than people booked on the direct Heathrow to Zurich flight, which is delayed for several hours because of the fog. Apparently pilots are frightened of fog. On arrival, I discover that Zurich is (a) bone-slicingly cold, (b) pilot-scaringly foggy and (c) eye-poppingly expensive. It costs me almost as much to take a 15-minute taxi ride to my hotel than it did for my flights to and from Bristol. Being British, of course, I do not challenge the taxi driver. I give him an extra large tip to show him how unperturbed I am, and I do not cry until I am alone in my hotel room and realise I have scarcely enough Swiss francs left for a bottle of coke from the mini-bar. Once unpacked, I venture out into the Zurich streets, which are flanked by expensive boutiques and paved with gold. I go to an informal drinks reception that the EPO have kindly thrown for tomorrow’s conference speakers and panellists. My panellists are politely but firmly introduced to me and it is clear that we are supposed to be Friends. Brexit or not. My new Friends then begin a conversation in German. This is a ploy to avoid engaging with me. But I can do German. Well, a bit: usually the bit at the start of the sentence, because I lack the patience the verb eventually for to wait. But I am good at picking up on non-verbal cues such as laughter, the waving of a hand or the narrowing of an eye, and I am also good at inventing authentically German-sounding verbal padding to imply that I am following the narrative – sort of like the Gallic shrug, only with the noises emanating from deeper in the throat rather than half-way up the nasal passages. When I make these noises, people think I am genuinely bilingual. In this way I get by until the “finger food” arrives. This consists of delicately sturdy chunks of cheese, robust salami and teutonically dry bread – the type of fare that people survive on when they are stranded up a mountain all winter. You need access to a good finger buffet when you are stranded up a mountain. Back at the hotel, there is a strong smell of Swiss cheese everywhere. It seems the restaurant serves a lot of fondue. Which is another type of fare that people survive on when they are stranded up a mountain all winter.
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