street life
they don’t speak
Switzerland: land of milk can honey. I am back and the milk from the Bioladen is fresh and sweet and creamy. Honey-coloured cattle browse along the path flicking fat mosquitoes with paint-brush tails. It’s all pretty: even the oversized Lego industrial landscapes. Life is orderly and a little prim. A church on every hillside: Catholic and Protestant (they don’t speak). The building of minarets on mosques is now forbidden here, it contravenes the Constitution. The snarling sprawl of Berlin overgrown between upright German houses, climate chaos and poverty seem very far from shore.
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