In the late 1980’s in America there was a drug store chain that changed their name to “Osco.” Nobody in corporate did a foreign language search on the word “Osco.” Turns out it sounded just like “Asco” which translates to “disgusting” in Spanish and sales suffered in markets with Spanish speaking populations. In the present-day world of the internet, you would think that companies do a bit of international research on their brand, but perhaps they should also employ some teenagers to check for international slang meanings? Or maybe they shouldn’t, because, really, do we want to live in a world with an “Ass Bar Bakery” or do we want to live in a world without one?
As we’ve been wandering around Switzerland and western Europe this year, we’ve been compiling a few of our favorite examples of German/French brands that translate into American English slang.
Perhaps this Swiss bakery turns into a “meat-market” after hours? Either way, Barry says he’s gonna pass on the chocolate-filled croissants…
Going to a thermal bath/pool was at the top of my list of ‘Switzerland Goals’ this year, and it overlapped quite nicely with our girls’ constant drive to find a pool. Finally, in Locarno near the Swiss border with Italy, I found my opportunity. Even though it was February, the pool was warm (a terrific 95 degrees F), and you could swim to both indoor and outdoor sections of the same pool. The outdoor part had an *amazing* view of Lake Maggiore and the nearby mountains of both Switzerland and Italy. It was the perfect thing to do on a February afternoon that was a bit too cold to spend outside. What I didn’t realize is that what I thought of as the perfect confluence of relaxation and fun, turns out to be my husband’s own personal hell. In retrospect, I can see where our paths diverged.
“What is that yellow circle emoji in my weather app next Friday?” Barry wondered out loud as he scanned the ten day forecast for potential places to do a weekend trip. “The sun.” Jana replied. That’s right, a sunny day was being forecast for a weekend in February in Bellinzona, Switzerland. Within an hour, plans were finalized for a quick trip down into the Italian-speaking, and slightly warmer, region of Switzerland. Unfortunately, the next day that forecasted yellow circle emoji was replaced with a cloud. We went anyway–there are palm trees there, how cold could it be?
Castlegrande overlooks one side of Bellinzona’s old town
Beginning the first Monday after Ash Wednesday each winter, the normally reserved Basel-folk don masks, grab their piccolos and let their freak flags fly for exactly 72 hours straight. Okay, by “freak flags” I mean lots of marching, confetti and satire – this is Switzerland, after all. Basel’s Fasnacht is said to be the largest carnival in Switzerland and dates back to, at least, the 14th century (many city archives were destroyed in the earthquake of 1356, so it is hard to say exactly when it began here). Continue reading
“Aaaaaawww, I HATE Germany!” our four year-old yelled as we sat down on the train to Germany with, presumably, many Germans within earshot. She probably meant, as she almost always does, “I HATE doing whatever you are making me do that is not eating gummy bears.” After promising gummy bears after we got there and ate lunch, she really started to warm up to the country once more. We hoped our German train neighbors didn’t speak English (fat chance) or at least had encountered a gummy bear-addicted child in their own life (ours is well-documented: Our Finicky Four Year-Old Traveler). We were on our way to spend a (rare) sunny February day in Freiburg, Germany, which is only a half-hour train ride from Basel into the Black Forest region. Continue reading
The following was dictated to me by H, she is four years old and her attention span is four words long. She giggled constantly through the post and insisted I share it. This might be a terrible idea, but hopefully the reader might relate to trying to work on a laptop near a small, attention-seeking child who is sometimes homesick and is mostly into fart jokes. Some things stay the same no matter where we are in the world. Continue reading
Grindelwald is a mountain ski town in the Swiss Alps, not to be confused with the dark wizard of the same name from Harry Potter. At just under four months since our last trek up past Interlaken, we were (well at least Mürren-snob Barry was) having majestic-mountain withdrawals and Grindelwald seemed the perfect place to entertain our family visiting from the States the week after Christmas. Continue reading