The First Fortnight — Himmi Kari

It didn’t feel massively different. One minute our British Airways A320 was taxiing on the tarmac at Heathrow and then 80 minutes later I was in Basel. During that time I had supposedly emigrated.

Maybe it’s the fact that short-haul travel is so common and I have made such journeys many times before, sometimes for a mere weekend, that it didn’t feel extraordinary. I think of the famed migration tales of the past, for example, Colm Toibin’s Brooklyn and feel my own story somewhat lacking. At least I wasn’t flying Easyjet.

Perhaps the more impressive moving journey is that of our household contents, which had already been delivered to our new apartment by the time we arrived. In the space of four days our sheet-wrapped furniture and countless moving boxes had crossed the continent and made it to Basel before we did. Forget an hour and a half of airline trolley service, trans-European emigration from the perspective of a bubble-wrapped lounge chair is the story I want to hear.

And now I live here. Even a short walk in the area around our flat highlights how much our environment has changed. Basel city has a population of 118 000 (rounded up). The London Borough of Greenwich, where I lived previously, has a population of 289 000 (rounded down). And the difference is palpable. At the moment it’s hard to untangle the contribution of locality versus nationality between Basel and London. For example, the Swiss Sunday Sabbath (no commercial shops may open), immediately calms the pace in the city. So too do the wide European boulevards and the reduced number of arterial traffic roads.

Instantly, I feel a loosening of pressure simply in the day-to-day experience of navigating the city. This is that city break feeling, where the friction of the daily routine falls away. Whether it can stand up to a resumption of ‘normal life’ e.g. a commute and work commitments, remains to be seen. However, judging by the relative size of Basel and Switzerland in general, I believe this new lightening of the load is here to stay.

Daily administration, however, is a work in progress. There are many things to do but Swiss efficiency does help keep things on track. Unlike the nebulous system in the UK, nearly all administration hinges on registering at the Einwohneramt. Once you’ve notified the local authority of residency (proven by virtue of a rental contract) you can sign up for the rest of the essentials: health insurance, bank account, phone contract etc. Therefore, the Swiss keep an effective tally of who exactly is living where and all major administrative bodies are informed of valid changes in status and residency. It sounds simple but undoubtedly isn’t.

And yet, it’s the little things you need most. Health insurance (as long as you’re well) doesn’t feel as vital as it is, however, not having a working SIM and internet connection on the mobile, can leave you feel incredibly isolated and lost (literally, Google Maps has replaced a functioning hippocampus in my brain). And in the domestic sphere, the irritation of English plugs meaning you can’t make a cup of tea, or the lack of a shower curtain can quickly become a major impediment to a sense of wellbeing in a new setting. These things, minor though they seem are not to be underestimated and make a challenging situation that much harder.

However, there is much to sweeten the deal, not least the buttery Swiss pastries which I treat myself to on a daily basis. As I’ve learnt to appreciate with the various moves I’ve done throughout my life, not least the yearly rotations of medical training, relocation doesn’t happen all at once with everything being accomplished in a week or two. It is a slower process with the colours and depth ripening at different times like a Polaroid developing in front of your eyes. Regardless whether the boxes are unpacked or the systems fully in place, there will come a time, sooner or later, when I will look around at Basel and I will feel at home.

Deus ex Helvetica

Himmi Kari