As I drove home from the airport after a business trip last week, I thought how nice it was to be going home. Home! I don't know the language, am too loud and direct to be Swiss and still can't pick the right coin out my purse without looking at the back of it. But, this is home now. Ah, what a beautiful part of the world to live in, what a great job I have, I can't wait to get back to my cozy apartment, FLASH!
What????
A light akin to the one emitting from the Luxor flashed in my face. What...the....Oh. Poo. Remember when I said that I was sure to get a parking ticket before too long? I was wrong. It looks like it will actually be a speeding ticket.
As I was lost in my romantic reverie, I now know I failed to decelerate from 120 to 100 when the sign said so. In the ever-so-efficient and non-confrontational Swiss way, speeding tickets are generally sent by post and, from what I hear (and am soon sure to KNOW), the flash is telling foreshadowing of a nice fat bill in the mail.
Beside the fact that I nearly drove off the road, the flash was very effective in making me slow down. I had been paranoid about getting a speeding ticket until now, so had always been super attentive. See what happens when I get all gooey and romantic??? NOTE TO SELF.
I fretted for a bit about the impending expense, but soon figured out a way to perfectly rationalize the whole situation.
1. The ticket may never really come. (I am not counting on this one, so move on to 2.)
2. If you add up all the speeding miles and, therefore, time saved that I have had since my last ticket about 20 years ago, I am sure that this one will amortize out to be less than a penny a minute saved. Given that I hear you could buy a car for the cost of the speeding tickets here (but not MY car, I hope), then you know I have a bit of a speeding problem.
3. I was thinking of taking a weekend trip somewhere in February, but probably wasn't going to actually do it. So, now, if I don't really take the trip, then I pretend that I saved the cost of the trip to spend it on the ticket. Good, huh?
4. And, if all else fails the not-too-stringent logic test, I can count it as tuition. When I screw up, I've begun to think of the cost of my mistake as tuition for a learning experience. When I screw up the second time at the same thing, then I'm just plain mad. I do not have a graduate school for mistakes.
So, finally having made peace with my latest screw up, I stopped to fill up my gas tank for the first time. H-o-l-y cow! I actually looked to make sure the gas was not running out on the ground after the ticker hit CHF 80. As I paid the CHF 109.44 (about $125)--but, she did give me a 3.44 discount!--I was beginning to reconsider my decision to own a car. All I can say is that it had better be a 30-gallon tank.
So, I drove VERY slowly from the gas station to my house, ever vigilant for the pedestrians who don't even look to see if cars are coming before they dash into the crosswalk, because I frankly can't afford the litigation after the rest of my day. My spirits started to perk up as I drove the last few kilometers along the lake road before turning up the hill to my apartment. What a beautiful place. Once home, I walked to the living room window and looked out across the lake and made a realization...it's worth it.
At some point, you just have to succumb to it all. No need to rage against the machine...or Switzerland, in this case. It is what it is and....it is so worth it.
Uh oh, I'm getting all gooey romantic again sitting here on my couch. I wonder if I will get a charge for this?
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Bread missiles and other hazards of St Nicholas
There is no shortage of quaint Christmas adventures in Switzerland. My last Christmas foray was attending the Feast of St Nicholas celebration in Fribourg, a healthy hour from home by car. St Nicholas is the patron saint of Fribourg, which honors him the first weekend of December every year, kicking off the holiday season with a Christmas fair, food and drink, and a grand procession through the town.
Fribourg straddles the French and German sections of Switzerland and is, therefore, completely bilingual. All street signs, menus, shops signs, etc, are in both languages. Where I may have a fighting chance in French (although if you've read any of my previous posts, you will understand that is questionable), I do not know one single word of German. So, I appreciated the investment in extra ink. When I get much past Fribourg, I am completely lost because things change to all German.
After a sunny, warm autumn, the feast of St Nicholas was cold, wet and blustery. A fitting start to the holiday season, but not exactly the best weather for wandering around a charming Swiss town. Fortunately, mulled wine seemed to play a big part in the festivities and helped to warm us up as we walked down to the river and then hiked up the hill to (yes, you guessed it) the cathedral.
After poking around the shops and cafes and our brisk hike, we discovered that downtown Fribourg had gone from sleepy and quiet to boisterously crowded. It seemed that every single resident of the town, plus plenty from elsewhere, were lining up along the pathway that St Nicholas would travel from the college to the cathedral. Preceded by plenty of schoolchildren carrying huge candles or playing a variety of instruments and followed by some of his buddies carrying baskets of "delicacies," a college student dressed in white Christmas robes exited the university riding a donkey.
The Christmas robes were pretty magnificent and the donkey was amazingly well-behaved considering the 30,000 people pressing up against the pathway, plenty of huge open flames, and the screeching musical instruments. But, I think St Nick's fraternity brothers had a bit too much fun with the makeup case, as the patron's face was made up more like Voldemort than anything beatific.
I was pretty nervous over the size of the flames on the children's candles, but it turns out that the real safety threat was from the Christmas treats. It turned out that the anise-flavored bread tossed to the crowd throughout the event was hurled with more and more enthusiasm as the parade progressed, so that by the time we caught the procession again near its end, St Nick's helpers were flinging them with direct and painful accuracy.
I am guessing that the college students probably had a bit more mulled wine than we did.
Fribourg straddles the French and German sections of Switzerland and is, therefore, completely bilingual. All street signs, menus, shops signs, etc, are in both languages. Where I may have a fighting chance in French (although if you've read any of my previous posts, you will understand that is questionable), I do not know one single word of German. So, I appreciated the investment in extra ink. When I get much past Fribourg, I am completely lost because things change to all German.
After a sunny, warm autumn, the feast of St Nicholas was cold, wet and blustery. A fitting start to the holiday season, but not exactly the best weather for wandering around a charming Swiss town. Fortunately, mulled wine seemed to play a big part in the festivities and helped to warm us up as we walked down to the river and then hiked up the hill to (yes, you guessed it) the cathedral.
After poking around the shops and cafes and our brisk hike, we discovered that downtown Fribourg had gone from sleepy and quiet to boisterously crowded. It seemed that every single resident of the town, plus plenty from elsewhere, were lining up along the pathway that St Nicholas would travel from the college to the cathedral. Preceded by plenty of schoolchildren carrying huge candles or playing a variety of instruments and followed by some of his buddies carrying baskets of "delicacies," a college student dressed in white Christmas robes exited the university riding a donkey.
The Christmas robes were pretty magnificent and the donkey was amazingly well-behaved considering the 30,000 people pressing up against the pathway, plenty of huge open flames, and the screeching musical instruments. But, I think St Nick's fraternity brothers had a bit too much fun with the makeup case, as the patron's face was made up more like Voldemort than anything beatific.
I was pretty nervous over the size of the flames on the children's candles, but it turns out that the real safety threat was from the Christmas treats. It turned out that the anise-flavored bread tossed to the crowd throughout the event was hurled with more and more enthusiasm as the parade progressed, so that by the time we caught the procession again near its end, St Nick's helpers were flinging them with direct and painful accuracy.
I am guessing that the college students probably had a bit more mulled wine than we did.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
France Again
This ex-pat thing is a bit like college in that there are a wide assortment of people here who aren't "home," who are eager to explore, and who are not really tied down to the white picket fence. No kids, no spouse (or at least not one who is here) and no soccer games/bake sale/yard-to-mow to keep them from just picking up and going exploring. Fortunately, I'm running into those people and we are throwing phrases around like "how about Turkey in February?" or "maybe we could ski Zermatt next month?" It's awesome!
A little more tame, but certainly just as fun, was my trip across the water this weekend. Right across the lake from me is France, including Alps, the Euro and the famous water of Evian. With the autumn weather still holding out and an open Saturday, it was time to go for a little visit.
Fortunately, I had warned my travel companions that, according to the internet and some Swiss friends, there really isn't anything to actually DO in Evian. I can now attest that that is true. But, we found that strolling along the lakeside, eating tarticlette (not a low-cal lunch) and looking for the famous water fountain were just about all we needed to enjoy ourselves.
And, it was a great day for me to practice my French, since none of my friends spoke any. One of my shining moments was translating the huge seasonal sign posted on the hillside that said, in my mind, "The Largest Christmas Mouth in the World will be in Evian on November 28, 2011." Which just goes to show you how one tiny little letter can change a whole sentence. "Bouche" is mouth. "Buche" is Yule log. Ooops. My friends were all ready to come back later to see the Great Christmas Mouth (sounds sort of like a Charlie Brown special), but when they found out it was just a big Yule log, they lost interest. My French teacher laughed so hard she cried when I told her about the great Christmas mouth. She is looking forward to telling her family when they have a Yule log over the holiday (apparently it's a cake???)
After our return boat ride, we did some wine tasting in Lausanne and ended up at a great restaurant for dinner. Yay! I finally got to eat out! And, it did not include tuna pizza. Voila! Again, my interpreter skills were put to the test with the wine list. There was a red that I took to mean "from the House of the Spleen of the Hunted Game." Needless to say, I did not recommend it. I looked it up later and apparently it meant "from the House that Chases Away the Blues."
My friends don't really trust my French anymore. Ya think?
A little more tame, but certainly just as fun, was my trip across the water this weekend. Right across the lake from me is France, including Alps, the Euro and the famous water of Evian. With the autumn weather still holding out and an open Saturday, it was time to go for a little visit.
Fortunately, I had warned my travel companions that, according to the internet and some Swiss friends, there really isn't anything to actually DO in Evian. I can now attest that that is true. But, we found that strolling along the lakeside, eating tarticlette (not a low-cal lunch) and looking for the famous water fountain were just about all we needed to enjoy ourselves.
And, it was a great day for me to practice my French, since none of my friends spoke any. One of my shining moments was translating the huge seasonal sign posted on the hillside that said, in my mind, "The Largest Christmas Mouth in the World will be in Evian on November 28, 2011." Which just goes to show you how one tiny little letter can change a whole sentence. "Bouche" is mouth. "Buche" is Yule log. Ooops. My friends were all ready to come back later to see the Great Christmas Mouth (sounds sort of like a Charlie Brown special), but when they found out it was just a big Yule log, they lost interest. My French teacher laughed so hard she cried when I told her about the great Christmas mouth. She is looking forward to telling her family when they have a Yule log over the holiday (apparently it's a cake???)
After our return boat ride, we did some wine tasting in Lausanne and ended up at a great restaurant for dinner. Yay! I finally got to eat out! And, it did not include tuna pizza. Voila! Again, my interpreter skills were put to the test with the wine list. There was a red that I took to mean "from the House of the Spleen of the Hunted Game." Needless to say, I did not recommend it. I looked it up later and apparently it meant "from the House that Chases Away the Blues."
My friends don't really trust my French anymore. Ya think?
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Vive la France
My breakfast of Special K and three-week old milk (it turns out that UHT is a wonderful thing!) was probably not the best way to start my journey to the gastronomic capital of the world, Lyon, France. But, as it turns out, it was fitting foreshadowing.
I arrived at the train station early so I could buy my ticket, only to find out that the ticket window did not open until 8:00 and my train was at 8:01. Tried the ticket kiosk, but, alas, you cannot buy international tickets there. hmmmm. My travel companions had the same problem, so we solved it by getting kiosk-printed tickets to Geneva with the intention of buying our Lyon tickets from there. Too bad the line at the Geneva ticket windows was so long that we didn't get to buy our
Lyon tickets until the very minute that our train was leaving.
So, rather than having a long lunch in Lyon, we walked around Geneva for two hours waiting for the next train. Not all bad, since I likely won't spend much time touring Geneva (profit hath no honor in his hometown). We explored some of the quaint alleys (right) and hiked up a hill to a church. (I think you will hear me say that a lot ..."I hiked up a hill to a church"...as that seems to be what every town and city in Europe has. A historic church on a hill.)
Finally time to catch the train to Lyon, we loaded up on sandwiches purchased at the train station. I think the others were disappointed, but I LOVE train station sandwiches. Seriously. This one was "jambon cru," which is sort of like prosciutto. I was secretly glad that we were getting train station sandwiches.
Our first stop in Lyon was at Les Halles de Lyon. Apparently this is a foodie's paradise. It is an indoor food market. It is said to be where all the top chefs in Lyon go to choose their best ingredients. It was p
retty amazing. Cheeses (left, most I've never even heard of!), meats (including whole dead rabbits, with fur), fruits and vegetables (nothing crazy there), oyster bars, wine bars, desserts (that truly looked like works of art), chocolate, olives, and beautiful breads.
The most intriguing and morbidly fascinating spot in the entire place was a wine bar that had entire deer legs clamped onto the bar. You ordered your wine and then the bartender would take a knife and serve you slivers of meat he sliced directly off the leg (with hide and hoof still attached, mind you). I opted to go around the corner (out of view of the deer legs) and get a glass of Tattinger champagne at the tamer wine and
salami bar.
After the foodie exploration, we hiked up the hill to the (you guessed it) church(es). We stopped by St Jean (right) where an enthusiastic band of young people was playing marching band music in the square. Then, we took the funicular up an even bigger hill to the most famous landmark in Lyon. The Basilica of Our Lady of Fourviere (Basilique Notre-Dame de Fourviere) was, of course, beautiful, but the view was even more amazing. We could see all of Lyon. Nearby was the Tour Mettalique, a mini version of the Eiffel Tower, which was built only four years after its more famous sister. It's now essentially used as a TV relay station.
A bit below the church and tower was an amphitheater, parts of which dated back to Roman times. We walked down through the ruin and I thought it was pretty cool that the theater is still used. They've augmented it with a few platforms for lighting, but other than that, it is all stone. I think you would have to bring some major couch cushions if you intended to sit through an entire performance on those seats, though.
More walking back down to the city where we found the Bartholdi Fountain, an amazing creation depicting a female charioteer (naked, of course...this is Europe) with four devil-like horses. For the Americans reading this, Bartholdi is the same person who created the Statue of Liberty. Supposedly, the fountain represents France controlling the four great rivers of the country. The horses have claws coming out of their hooves. A bit freaky. Not a good day for hooves for me! First deer, now creepy horses.
Knowing a European dinner lasts two hours minimum and that our train would leave at 7:30, it was time for us to settle down to a famous Lyonnaise dinner. Hmmm, where to find a non-tourist restaurant that was open at 5:00? Hmmmm, nowhere. After quite a bit of walking, asking and hopefully poking our heads in asking "ouverte?" we ended up headed back to the train station. My fellow travelers stopped by the Halle to pick up treats for the ride home. Meanwhile, not keen on the hairy deer legs, I found my favorite European version of fast food...a turkish kebab shop... up the street. One doner to go, please!
So, the end of a day exploring the epicurean center of the world found us perched on a railing in the train station eating out of to-go bags. Perhaps not what we had in mind, but an amusingly ironic way to end the trip.
I arrived at the train station early so I could buy my ticket, only to find out that the ticket window did not open until 8:00 and my train was at 8:01. Tried the ticket kiosk, but, alas, you cannot buy international tickets there. hmmmm. My travel companions had the same problem, so we solved it by getting kiosk-printed tickets to Geneva with the intention of buying our Lyon tickets from there. Too bad the line at the Geneva ticket windows was so long that we didn't get to buy our
Lyon tickets until the very minute that our train was leaving.So, rather than having a long lunch in Lyon, we walked around Geneva for two hours waiting for the next train. Not all bad, since I likely won't spend much time touring Geneva (profit hath no honor in his hometown). We explored some of the quaint alleys (right) and hiked up a hill to a church. (I think you will hear me say that a lot ..."I hiked up a hill to a church"...as that seems to be what every town and city in Europe has. A historic church on a hill.)
Finally time to catch the train to Lyon, we loaded up on sandwiches purchased at the train station. I think the others were disappointed, but I LOVE train station sandwiches. Seriously. This one was "jambon cru," which is sort of like prosciutto. I was secretly glad that we were getting train station sandwiches.
Our first stop in Lyon was at Les Halles de Lyon. Apparently this is a foodie's paradise. It is an indoor food market. It is said to be where all the top chefs in Lyon go to choose their best ingredients. It was p
retty amazing. Cheeses (left, most I've never even heard of!), meats (including whole dead rabbits, with fur), fruits and vegetables (nothing crazy there), oyster bars, wine bars, desserts (that truly looked like works of art), chocolate, olives, and beautiful breads.The most intriguing and morbidly fascinating spot in the entire place was a wine bar that had entire deer legs clamped onto the bar. You ordered your wine and then the bartender would take a knife and serve you slivers of meat he sliced directly off the leg (with hide and hoof still attached, mind you). I opted to go around the corner (out of view of the deer legs) and get a glass of Tattinger champagne at the tamer wine and
salami bar.A bit below the church and tower was an amphitheater, parts of which dated back to Roman times. We walked down through the ruin and I thought it was pretty cool that the theater is still used. They've augmented it with a few platforms for lighting, but other than that, it is all stone. I think you would have to bring some major couch cushions if you intended to sit through an entire performance on those seats, though.
More walking back down to the city where we found the Bartholdi Fountain, an amazing creation depicting a female charioteer (naked, of course...this is Europe) with four devil-like horses. For the Americans reading this, Bartholdi is the same person who created the Statue of Liberty. Supposedly, the fountain represents France controlling the four great rivers of the country. The horses have claws coming out of their hooves. A bit freaky. Not a good day for hooves for me! First deer, now creepy horses.
Knowing a European dinner lasts two hours minimum and that our train would leave at 7:30, it was time for us to settle down to a famous Lyonnaise dinner. Hmmm, where to find a non-tourist restaurant that was open at 5:00? Hmmmm, nowhere. After quite a bit of walking, asking and hopefully poking our heads in asking "ouverte?" we ended up headed back to the train station. My fellow travelers stopped by the Halle to pick up treats for the ride home. Meanwhile, not keen on the hairy deer legs, I found my favorite European version of fast food...a turkish kebab shop... up the street. One doner to go, please!
So, the end of a day exploring the epicurean center of the world found us perched on a railing in the train station eating out of to-go bags. Perhaps not what we had in mind, but an amusingly ironic way to end the trip.
Friday, November 4, 2011
Friday Night Date
Don't everybody get excited. My Friday night date is with the laundry and a glass of wine. I have to say that, after three weeks, this is not entirely unwelcome. It is my unwinding time from the week and, believe me, there is something very comforting about knowing you will have clean clothes, towels and sheets for the week.
The necessity to do laundry got me out of the office early today, by 5 p.m. (17:00 to you Swiss), only for me to come home and find that the laundry room key the building supervisor puts in my mailbox each Friday WAS NOT THERE!!! Waaaaaaa? Somebody stole the laundry room key! Fortunately, she has extras. Unfortunately, she was not going to be home for almost an hour. C'est la vie. Time to have a glass of wine and figure out what to have for dinner.
I'm going to France tomorrow for a day trip (beats Nevada, which was the only foreign day trip I could make from home). I think it's going to rain all day. But, there are worse places to spend a rainy day...hmmmm, Nevada comes to mind again....
The necessity to do laundry got me out of the office early today, by 5 p.m. (17:00 to you Swiss), only for me to come home and find that the laundry room key the building supervisor puts in my mailbox each Friday WAS NOT THERE!!! Waaaaaaa? Somebody stole the laundry room key! Fortunately, she has extras. Unfortunately, she was not going to be home for almost an hour. C'est la vie. Time to have a glass of wine and figure out what to have for dinner.
I'm going to France tomorrow for a day trip (beats Nevada, which was the only foreign day trip I could make from home). I think it's going to rain all day. But, there are worse places to spend a rainy day...hmmmm, Nevada comes to mind again....
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Saturday in Photos
Not any interesting stories this week, but thought you would enjoy some pictures from Saturday...
Started the morning with a trip to the farmer's market (at right) for bread, cheese and some beautiful veggies. For those keeping track at home, the new cheese for the week is Appenzeller. Delicious! Really nutty flavor. I'm a fan. In fact, I like it better than Gruyere. Although, there are about 75 different cheesemakers who make Appenzeller and all have their own recipes, so I may never get this exact cheese again.
Then it was off to the train station and a day trip to Lausanne. Another farmer's market, some window shopping in the alleys and a really steep hike up the hill to
city hall (below)
where there was
a street band playing
just below the
cathedral.
where there was
a street band playing
just below the
cathedral.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Car Shopping
It will soon be time to say good-bye to my sweet Audi and come back to the real world of Practical Patty. So, now that I've gotten to the point where I don't hyperventilate every time I have to go to the grocery store, it was time to branch out and go to the car store. I had done most of my shopping online, so this was not browsing day, this was buying day.
The dealership with the car I want is in Geneva, which is a bit over an hour away. Driving there this evening, especially during rush hour, was a bit more than I could handle. Not good to hyperventilate WHILE you're driving. So, I took the train. That's always a great cultural experience for me. I mostly stare out the window and try to eavesdrop on other people's conversations to see if I can understand any French. And, today, I would say the answer is...no. Although, every now and then I picked out a word, which is better than my ears were two weeks ago!
Normally, you can take the train all the way to Geneva. Easy peasy. But, today while we were sitting in Lausanne, I looked at the train schedule on my iPhone and realized if I were going to make my connection in Geneva, I was going to have change to a faster train out of Lausanne. Uh oh. Check my watch (actually check my iPhone because the train time is EXACT in Switzerland.) It's two minutes until the other train leaves and I'm not sure where the platform is. Double uh oh. So, the quick risk analysis...get off this train and try to catch the other train and, if I don't, probably not be able to make it back to this train before it leaves. Or, stay put and take a later connection out of Geneva when this train finally gets in.
RUN!
Down the stairs, quick look at the schedule, platform 7, escalator is full so run up the stairs. See the train is still there. Run a little faster. Hop up the steps and doors close behind me. YES! Small victory, but hey, another little adventure in my small little life. And, now at least I know that there are actually times I will want to change trains in Lausanne.
I finally made up my mind on which car I wanted at the dealership. The part of me that thinks I should be hip and cool considered the coupe hardtop, especially given there are not kids or dogs in my car daily anymore. The practical part of me that knows I am really not hip and cool wanted the small SUV crossover.
Room for my bike or skis plus suitcases; or cuteness that is a little easier to park? Practical Patty wins again. For everything except the parking, the SUV fits me. It reminds me of my beloved SUVs from home that toted my bike to Sunday rides, skis to Tahoe, and, yes, kids and/or dogs to everywhere. I can only do so much change at one time. But, if I ever have a SECOND car, it's the hardtop for sure!
"You took the train???" So says the car salesman when I left. I guess a guy who makes a living on cars is not a fan of public transportation. But, I'll say that riding the train home (without a train change in Lausanne) was much more relaxing then driving would have been. Plus, I can't eavesdrop in the car.
The dealership with the car I want is in Geneva, which is a bit over an hour away. Driving there this evening, especially during rush hour, was a bit more than I could handle. Not good to hyperventilate WHILE you're driving. So, I took the train. That's always a great cultural experience for me. I mostly stare out the window and try to eavesdrop on other people's conversations to see if I can understand any French. And, today, I would say the answer is...no. Although, every now and then I picked out a word, which is better than my ears were two weeks ago!
Normally, you can take the train all the way to Geneva. Easy peasy. But, today while we were sitting in Lausanne, I looked at the train schedule on my iPhone and realized if I were going to make my connection in Geneva, I was going to have change to a faster train out of Lausanne. Uh oh. Check my watch (actually check my iPhone because the train time is EXACT in Switzerland.) It's two minutes until the other train leaves and I'm not sure where the platform is. Double uh oh. So, the quick risk analysis...get off this train and try to catch the other train and, if I don't, probably not be able to make it back to this train before it leaves. Or, stay put and take a later connection out of Geneva when this train finally gets in.
RUN!
Down the stairs, quick look at the schedule, platform 7, escalator is full so run up the stairs. See the train is still there. Run a little faster. Hop up the steps and doors close behind me. YES! Small victory, but hey, another little adventure in my small little life. And, now at least I know that there are actually times I will want to change trains in Lausanne.
I finally made up my mind on which car I wanted at the dealership. The part of me that thinks I should be hip and cool considered the coupe hardtop, especially given there are not kids or dogs in my car daily anymore. The practical part of me that knows I am really not hip and cool wanted the small SUV crossover.
Room for my bike or skis plus suitcases; or cuteness that is a little easier to park? Practical Patty wins again. For everything except the parking, the SUV fits me. It reminds me of my beloved SUVs from home that toted my bike to Sunday rides, skis to Tahoe, and, yes, kids and/or dogs to everywhere. I can only do so much change at one time. But, if I ever have a SECOND car, it's the hardtop for sure!
"You took the train???" So says the car salesman when I left. I guess a guy who makes a living on cars is not a fan of public transportation. But, I'll say that riding the train home (without a train change in Lausanne) was much more relaxing then driving would have been. Plus, I can't eavesdrop in the car.
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