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Our last night at Switzerland was at Zurich.

It was a magical night.

We were missing Lucerne. Got onto a river ride to kill time. Was bored to death.

Got off and began walking the deserted streets, lit up by classy cathedrals. In search of a ‘Swiss’ restaurant recommended by the lady in the Zurich railway station. A name she scribbled in ineligible handwriting.

That’s when we stumbled upon the Zurich film festival kiosk and met Shivani, dressed in black, helping us out while others were stressed about Polanski. She guided us to this amazing alley with little restaurants up winding, empty, cobbled lanes. (that’s not her in the picture which we took the next day)

A waiter from the first restaurant in the lane (Marketgrasse) grabbed us with the same alacrity as the boys at the Juhu beach stalls and convinced us to sit in his Swiss restaurant or beer house.

He recommended the most expensive dish …veal with roesti. But Shivani had recommended this dish with a guttural, unpronounceable name too. K really loved it. It was the end of the trip. And our last couple of meals had been at Mac Donalds.

I finally had the only Swiss dish that I hadn’t tried, Cordon Bleau (pronounced ‘blah’, I am told)… pork stuffed with ham stuffed with cheese wrapped in bread crumbs and deep fried. Comes with a statutory health warning.

It was a bit too dry for my taste.

But still nothing could beat the romance of sitting on a quaint lane and having dinner by candle light on our last night in magical Switzerland. What a finale!

Dang ke Zurich.

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