There’s a conspiracy here in Basel. A Swiss conspiracy at play and I’ve been caught hook,line and sinker. Oh how they must have laughed as the Irishman came across for his interview.
There I was, dressed to the nines in what I like to call my semi-informal/formal/casual suit trousers and crisp blue shirt. At the time, mid May, the temperature was in the mid thirties here in Basel. I melted, the blue shirt quickly became crispy for a completely different reason. Between the pressure of the talk I had to give and the temperature outside I was sweating bullets.
Anyway, I went away with the job and the prospect of moving to this haven of hotness, a sanctuary of sunniness if you will. And when I arrived in September it was exactly the same. In the mid to high twenties, the sun was splitting the rocks and you could have fried eggs on the car bonnet. I felt as if I’d arrived. Twenty six years in Ireland, Scotland and England and I felt I had deserved my sun.
I now realise that these crafty Swiss people put on the good weather knowing I would play right into their hands. “Give him two good days when he comes for the interview and a week when he arrives so he doesn’t get back on the plane. Once he’s settled hit him with the wind and rain!” If they can build tunnels through mountains, God knows what they can do with the weather!!
I’m currently looking for postdocs in the University of Nairobi.