My travels have taken me to vastly different places with incredibly different inhabitants however, in all my European travels there has remained one constant in every city. That constant is scaffolding. I hate scaffolding. It is the bane of my European travel existence. Seriously. Nothing is worse than coming up to a church that is hundreds of years old only to have your view impeded by scaffolding. Now I realize that people are just trying to help keep the building intact for future tourists but still, I hate scaffolding. Wait, I sit corrected, what is worse than the plane scaffolding is when buildings drape a large piece of cloth over the scaffolding with a picture of what the building is supposed to look like underneath. Talk about patronizing. I don't want to look at a screen-printed image of gargoyles, I want to see their contorted, weather beaten faces for myself!
Our "neighborhood" decided to all paint their houses and windows (either a display of Swiss "togetherness" or a display of the controlling nature of the Swiss. You be the judge). I woke up last Monday to the sounds of scaffolding. Our house has scaffolding around it:
Unfortunately, that isn't even the worst part. The worst part have to be the men and woman who are working on our house. I have a routine every morning: I peel myself out of bed, go upstairs, go into the bathroom, rid myself of excess water (the nicest way I could think to put it) and then brush my teeth. Well last Monday morning I closed the blinds so I could do just that but Tuesday morning as I was winding the blinds down (they are these exterior-steel blinds that you have to crank down and up) the painted had the audacity to knock on the window and tell me he needed to have it rolled up. Meaning I could either complete my morning routine with the painter peeping or hold it until later. Naturally, I decided to hold it until after I put the kids on the bus. I ran back inside and upstairs to the next bathroom but lo and behold there he was again! I ran upstairs and another group were examining the top floor patio. It was a painter-bathroom conspiracy. I'd like to tell you it has gotten better but in fact it is quite the opposite. They left their supplies outside the downstairs bathroom so even if they are nowhere to be seen just as I'm trying to sneak in they'll pop their heads up and WAVE to me. The painters seem to know exactly when some one will be using the toilet and/or shower and are at that window at the exact moment. And it isn't just me. One morning the painters were no where to be seen until the Mother needed to take her shower. Then, of course, they were outside her window. The worst part about it is, when they are finished with our house, they will just move next door and have better leverage to look in our windows! At least we will be able to close the blinds and use the facilities in peace.
Man, I hate scaffolding.