Zurich

Too much going on here to write about any of it. I’m still collecting my notes for The Post On The Apartment Search, which if it goes on much longer might make a reasonably good Russian novella.

I arrived in Zürich at ten on Sunday morning, having spent eight hours on a plane from Newark, two hours on the runway at Newark waiting for the storm to clear out of the way of the transatlantic routes from New York, four hours in the Continental first class lounge (advantage: first class) waiting out my layover, two hours flying from Atlanta with a crowing rooster in the cargo hold right below me (me: “Is that a…”, guy beside me: “Yeah.