The Bernoulli family of Basel produced three great mathematical geniuses, the oldest of whom was Jakob Bernoulli (1654—1705). He was born, worked and died here, holding a chair in Mathematics at the University of Basel. Being a contemporary of Leibniz and in constant correspondence with him, Jakob was a significant contributor to the development of calculus, inventing the logarithmic spiral. He also developed the foundations of probability theory, including the Bernoulli distribution and Bernoulli numbers.

His tombstone in the cloisters of the cathedral, bears the motto Eadem mutata resurgo (changed and yet the same, I rise again), a reference to the property of logarithmic spirals that they are invariant under scaling: magnification simply rotates them. Jakob asked for such a spiral to appear on his grave, akin to the sphere and cylinder carved on the tomb of Archimedes. But in one of the great ironies of the history of mathematics, the mason cut an Archimedean spiral instead, as shown at left.

His younger brother, Johann Bernoulli, also contributed to calculus and developed some of the foundations of fluid dynamics. And Johann’s son, Daniel Bernoulli, wrote the definitive work on fluid dynamics, which included the fundamental effect known as Bernoulli’s Principle.

In September, Amanda and James came to visit from Australia. We took them to one of France’s most famous affineurs, Bernard Antony, about half an hour’s drive away. The exceptional selection of cheeses there was well worth the trip, and kept us in mouth-watering heaven for days. They also accompanied us on the boys’ first ever day hike, a 7km stroll down from the top of the Wasserfallen gondola in Reigoldswil. The reward for all that walking was a ride on the Solarbob at Langenbruck, a fantastic solar-powered cart track that includes a 540 degree turn.

Then it was time for the boys’ fifth birthday party, which had a magic forest theme. Aunty Sabine baked a fabulous cake in the shape of a tree stump with gnarled roots and a knotted face. This complemented the giant redwood in our back garden, which had suddenly acquired a face (seen above) and a crackling voice. The band of dwarves, elves and faeries that came to celebrate were captivated by the stories and riddles told by the tree. The fact that Uncle Edgar was spotted later with a walkie-talkie was merely a coincidence, of course.

Two weeks later we embarked on more hiking, taking the train to Interlaken on a beautiful Sunday. We caught the old cog-wheel train up to Schynige Platte for a short hike with views over both lakes and the Jungfrau mountain range. The boys were keen to show what strong mountain men they were, although we had to curb their enthusiasm when it came to throwing large rocks.

In early October, we spent a day at Europapark, Germany’s largest theme park, with friends from Freiburg, Elisabeth and Guido. The park is huge, and cannot possibly be explored in just one day. The boys loved riding the roller-coasters, especially the alpine coaster Enzian (seen below) and the Pegasus. Also popular was the Atlantis Adventure, in which visitors get to shoot lasers at creatures in an undersea tunnel to accumulate a point score.

We’re now in the final stages of packing up to leave Switzerland. We’ve de-registered as residents of the Basel city canton, a procedure costing a mere 80 Swiss Francs, and we’ve filed a tax return covering the part year up to our departure. The latter is legally required in order to leave the country, even though we won’t actually get the bill for the tax until sometime next year. The movers will come on Monday, and we’ll set off on seven weeks of travelling on our way back to Australia. For that reason, there’ll be a pause in posts on the Basilisk’s Gaze. But once we are back online in Sydney, we’ll be sure to update you here on the adventures we’ve had en route.

This 8-tonne moving sculpture stands beside Aeschenplatz. It was built in 1989 by Jonathan Borofsky, one of a series of similar “Hammering Man” works around the world. This one is 13.5 metres high and 15cm thick. Its arm rises and falls roughly every 15 seconds, pounding out a silent rhythm for the busy traffic below.

We are now in our house in Sydney, and have internet there. Alas the same can’t be said for our furniture — the container is still being processed by customs, which will probably take until sometime in the New Year. But it is good to have a fixed address after some seven weeks of travelling.

Our move had been booked for weeks in advance: the removalists would pack all but our most vital furnishings on Monday, and then finish packing and load it all into the container on Tuesday. Alas the Basel utility company, Industrielle Werke Basel decided that this was the perfect week to lay optic fibres under Unterer Rheinweg. And in extremely un-Swiss style, they announced their decision by posting notices on the Sunday afternoon before. With less than 24 hours notice, the south end of the street, where the one-way traffic normally entered, would be blocked. Access would be from the northern end, where a traffic island ordinarily enforced exit only.

This may have been reasonable, albeit a little confusing, for passenger cars, but container trucks were another matter. Such trucks could have driven through with their wheels straddling the traffic island, if it weren’t for the road sign planted neatly at its centre (shown at right). Evading the signpost however would mean a wheel mounting the kerb. And while this wasn’t against the rules, we were told it wouldn’t be wise with a fully laden container taller than it is wide.

Our astute removalists observed that the sign was fixed to the ground plate with only four standard bolts, and asked some passing police officers if they might be allowed to dismount the sign temporarily. The officers, being good Swiss, assured them that this was against the rules, despite the altered traffic conditions due to roadworks. The removalists then asked if the police might dismount it themselves (they even offered appropriate tools), but this was also deemed against the rules. It seems sign posts have land rights in Switzerland, even when they indicate traffic patterns that have been temporarily suspended.

In the end, the removalists gave up and used a smaller truck to relay our goods to the container in three shifts, which added two hours to the day. Despite this, they still had energy to help us deal with three wooden wardrobes that became the second major hiccup in our move. We had agreed to take these over from the previous tenants in 2008 after the managing agent assured us we would be able to leave them behind on departure. But when we spoke to the same managing agent about them in 2010, he insisted on the general rental law, under which we were responsible for them unless we could prove otherwise. He seemed not to recall his earlier assurances.

We had contacted the Heilsarmee (Salvation Army), who run a charity shop that takes and sells old goods, and they had said they would send someone to collect the wardrobes on Monday afternoon. This would be free, unless they were in too poor condition to sell, in which case we could simply pay a fee. The men sent by the Heilsarmee turned up mid-morning, claiming that all their other collections for the day had been cancelled. They then examined the first wardrobe and found a small chip on the edge of the door. No good, they said, these aren’t in perfect condition.

We argued for a while, but they were adamant that these would be impossible to sell. Okay, how much is the fee for removal then? 200 Swiss Francs. What? That’s more than 60 Swiss Francs a piece. No, no, they said, 200 Swiss Francs each, making 600 in total. We could hardly believe our ears, and after much discussion refused to pay such a ridiculous price. It was becoming clear why all their other jobs that day had been cancelled. The men then left, obviously happy that they had finished their work schedule for the day before noon. Thankfully, the removalists had heard the whole exchange and agreed to take the wardrobes away for free.

Aunt Sabine came on Tuesday to help clean and to take Wiki and Loxon back to Mannheim, freeing us up to concentrate on getting the shipment sent off and then polishing the apartment to Swiss standards. That evening, we took a break from scrubbing to share apéritifs with our newest neighbours, who had recently moved into the adjacent apartment. The man was a genial, elderly Swiss from canton Obwalden at the geographical centre of Switzerland, who served us delicious wine from canton Valais and a fantastic Tête de Moine — a quintessential slice of Switzerland.

The next morning we handed over the apartment keys to the managing agent, who explained that the final bill for shared maintenance wouldn’t be calculated for almost a year. Since we aren’t allowed to retain our Swiss bank accounts, we will be forced to pay this by international wire transfer. As usual, in domestic matters the Swiss seem pathologically incognisant of both the time-value of money and credit risk.

So it was that we embarked on seven weeks of travel. Our first week would be spent staying with Aunt Sabine, Uncle Edgar and Cousin Lea in Mannheim. This was especially felicitous because Lea had the perfect collection of age-appropriate toys and shared them all generously. Aunt Sabine also took us out geo-cacheing (there were several caches within walking distance of their house).

We took the opportunity to visit Luisenpark once more, where the wintry weather was helping make the penguins particularly active, and where Wiki and Loxon got in some useful waddling practice, as seen above. Mark also used his Upper Rhine Museum Pass one last time to take Lea, Loxon and Wiki to the Landesmuseum für Technik und Arbeit. While the trio are still a little young to appreciate the physics of the exhibits, there was plenty of excitement to be had spinning wheels, operating pulleys, building bridges and sending up hot air balloons. When the Germans set out to build a technical museum, you can bet the result will be seriously technical.

Set back from the hectic Aeschenplatz, Mario Botta’s building Rundecke (round corner) radiates stillness and composure. Botta, a star Swiss architect, produced the design for a competition in 1986. UBS built it in 1995 as a headquarters, but didn’t stay long. Shortly after their merger with Swiss Bank Corporation, they sold it to the Bank for International Settlements in 1999. It is the latter’s second building, housing their banking and risk control, and also a gym. The building has several features characteristic of Botta’s works, including the striking alternating stripes of colour and the inverted staircase void.

Our next stop was Bonn, where we went to visit Derya. She is studying for a Masters in Geology at Bonn University and took us for a tour inside the Poppelsdorf Palace (below) that contains the Mineralogy department.

© Thoma
Source: Wikimedia Commons under GFDL

We were all fascinated by the immense variety of rocks on display in glass cabinets in the hallways — every colour and shape imaginable. And from there we wandered along the Poppelsdorfer Allee for a short tour of the city.

Early the next morning, we flew from there to London, beginning our stay in St Katherine’s Docks. From our windows, we could watch the masts of yachts swaying gently in the little harbour. It was also handy to one of London’s prime attractions for us, the Tower of London. Loxon and Wiki were so excited to see the canons, ravens and knights’ paraphernalia, that they happily sat through a half hour lecture on the history of the chapel of St. Peter ad Vincula when we first arrived. Their patience also weathered the crown jewels exhibit, thanks largely to the ceremonial swords, and they were well rewarded by the weaponry and armour displays that we had saved for last.

We spent the next few days catching up with friends, including David and Laura’s family and Esther and Albert’s, both of whom are now living in London from Barcelona and hosted us for fantastic dinners. We also arranged a lunch at the Science Museum, where we got to meet Frank and Anne’s son, Max. The kids disappeared into the Pattern Pod, where they were so content that it was hard work to extract them. Luckily our next stop was also perfect for kids, the Diana, Princess of Wales Memorial Playground just across Kensington Gardens.

Then it was time to move to new lodgings with Rebecca and David. Their house is a fabulous renovated church tower in Gyspy Hill in the south of London (seen below). Originally part of a Victorian church built in 1867,

© Stephen Richards
Source: Wikimedia Commons under Creative Commons

the rest of the building burnt down in the 1980s, leaving the tower to be restored as a residence. The lift serves all levels, but if you want to walk, you’ll have to bend yourself into the original spiral stone staircase that feels like all those European cathedral towers you’ve spent money to climb, only narrower. The ornate carved stone windows, the archaic clock mechanism that still drives the hands on the face of the tower and the giant belfry all contribute to the atmosphere. And the views from the terrace across the entire London cityscape are phenomenal. We all loved staying there.

While there we held a lunch, where it was great to see a few more friends, including Tony and Ruth, who came down from Cambridgeshire with their daughter, and Jumana and her family. We also walked down to Crystal Palace park on a cold and rainy day to see the dinosaur statues.

Then it was back to Germany, where we stayed with Oma Birgit and Opa Günther in Ludwigsburg. We were there for St. Martin’s eve, and Wiki and Loxon enjoyed the traditional walk through the darkened streets with their paper lanterns, courtesy of Aunt Sabine. This would be our last chance to catch up with Marion’s family before leaving Europe, so Uncle Jürgen brought cousins Leonie, Alex and Olivia to visit one more time. He also took Mark and Marion for a tour of the Porsche museum in Zuffenhausen.

For our last night in Europe, we drove back to Basel, handed over our car to the purchaser and stayed with friends from Marion’s work. Then it was off to Singapore, leaving our life in Switzerland behind us.

It lounges like a great somnolent snake curling amongst the multitude of Basel’s charming fountains, statues and buildings, yet it is the most magnificent feature of all: the Rhine river. It is the origin of everything else in Basel, the city’s growth nourished by the crossing at this vast bend where one of Europe’s largest rivers turns. Upstream it comes from the east, already gathering strength for over 200km. Downstream it flows north, winding another 1000km before emptying into the North Sea. In summer, swimmers submit to its current (Mark — waving — Derya and her boyfriend Robert were among them as you see).

Living next it for two years, we saw its many colours and tempers. Some days in summer, the waters were the clearest of greens, every rock upon the bed visible from the shore. Some days in winter, the waters riled up the snow-filmed banks in a deep and foamy brown. But always it flowed on. One cannot help but feel the drag of time passing ever onwards, moments drifting by never to return. It is a sense entirely distinct from living by the harbour in a city on the ocean — there the tide comes in and out in balanced equilibrium, days come and go in cycles and it is possible to forget that each is different.

But with a river, the flow goes on, endlessly sinking towards the sea.

Retracing our path on the way to Switzerland, we returned to Sydney via Singapore. This time we stayed longer to spend some time with friends and family who live there now. Karin and Timon hosted us in their fabulous apartment on Nassim Hill, near the Botanic Gardens. Ironically, they left Basel to move to Singapore shortly before we moved to Basel. The boys enjoyed playing with their sons, Niclas and baby Mathis, and running wild amongst the trees and extensive lawns of the gardens. We made good use of both the children’s splash pool and the larger swimming pool.

It’s a short walk from there to the western end of the renowned shopping strip of Orchard Road. With only five weeks until Christmas, we took the opportunity to attend the “Light Up” ceremony for the Orchard Road Christmas lights, which are spectacular. Intricate luminous traceries stretch along the street, block after block. To our surprise, we stumbled across Singapore’s version of falling snow: a machine that sprays droplets of white detergent into the warm evening air.

Karin also took us out to the Jurong Bird park, an ornithological extravaganza. Covering 50 acres, it takes most of a day just to walk around, and hosts over 4500 resident birds — more than any other bird park in the world. Penguins, parakeets, pelicans, pigeons and parrots, of every shape and colour, squawk and stare at you from the exhibits.

We spent some time too with Mark’s sister, Merry, and her husband, Fred, and baby daughter, Emilie, who moved to Singapore from South Africa in 2009. The grownups shared a sumptuous dinner at the Equinox restaurant on the 69th floor, looking out over the city lights of one of Asia’s jewels.

Then it was back to Sydney, where we stayed with “aunty” Amanda in Greenwich for a couple of days before heading off on a driving holiday to the north coast. Until our container arrived, there wasn’t much point moving into our own house with no furniture.

We spent a few rainy days at Port Macquarie, both on the way up north and on the way back south. Luckily there were a few breaks in the weather during which we could enjoy the beach, as seen below. Our principal destination was Wooyung though, where we stayed with Christine and Lutz for almost a week. In addition to enjoying uninterrupted miles of ocean beach, often all to ourselves, we also got to see their new house in the hills above Mooball. Here Wiki and Loxon discovered the ecstasy to be had from chasing chickens around on wet grass when you are five years old, at Kirra’s ninth birthday party.

Thus far, they seem to have forgotten their plans to breed chickens in the 45 square metre courtyard of our house in Balmain. Please don’t remind them.

Everything must end, sooner or later. And it’s time now to wrap up the Basilisk’s Gaze. Life since arriving in Sydney has certainly been an adventure. There’s the story of the container, and it’s long delay; the missing parts from furniture once it did turn up, and the broken Italian dining table;the fleas thoughtfully left starving for us by our tenants; and Christmas with no furniture. But none of that truly belongs in a travelogue.

Wiki and Loxon have started school, and are progressing in leaps and bounds with their reading. They’ve made new friends, and their English has strengthened to the point of overtaking their German. Though the occasional mixing can still be heard, such as Wiki’s “verbiggering” for magnification (in German, Vergrößerung) last night. And we’ve gotten back into the habit of wearing sun hats, even in winter.

So this will be the final entry in the Basilisk’s Gaze, the tail end of the basilisk, so to speak. The website will remain for a while as a record of our fantastic time in Switzerland. There is not, as yet, a successor blog. But if there is one in the future, we’ll notify all those people who asked to get emails about new posts here. If you aren’t one of those, and want to be added to the list, just send us an email. And in the meantime, please stay in touch.

Auf Wiedersehen.