The Martin Family

hatter paints three pairs of pants

switzerland

Dear Friends and Family,

I hope that you are healthy and happy. Nazy and I are in Santa Fe, New Mexico as part of our visit in the USA. As we were preparing for our intercontinental flight, Darius was getting ready to return to Lebanon. But, after six months in South Africa, he had accumulated a lot of heavy stuff. Moreover, his selected airline had received flexibility training in Switzerland.

“You are allowed no more than 23 kilos,” they told Darius. “You have 33 kilos.”

“I understand,” Darius replied. “I want to take 33 kilos. Can I do that?”

“Of course, sir. You simply pay an additional $300.”

“That’s the part I don’t want to do,” Darius thought.

And then the airline made a mistake. A connection foible meant that Darius was booked on a much later flight. This development gave him time to craft an alternative approach. (His first option, a charm offensive, didn’t work.) Thus, he attacked the problem more directly...

“So, Dad,” Darius explained when he arrived in Beirut. “I just wore the extra 10 kilos.”

“You wore 10 kilos? That’s 22 pounds.”

“I wore two coats, three pairs of pants, two vests and a sweater. I filled my pockets with..”

“You wore all of that in Johannesburg?”

“Yes! In the South African summer. I didn’t have to pay anything extra.”

“You’re a genius, Dar,” I replied - spotting Nazy wrestling with our luggage. “Maybe you should just wear...”

“How can I wear five pairs of shoes?”

“There are limitations to Plan Darius,” I thought.

In fact, we had no luggage problems on our flight to Los Angeles. However, we were unable to upgrade because our (13 hour!) flight was completely sold out. Nevertheless, we sped through the arrival formalities and took the shuttle bus to pick up the ‘free’ (i.e. secured via hhonors points) rental car. Hilton had told me to book the car first (“to confirm availability”). Once that was done, they sent a reward certificate. Alamo told me (when I arrived) that I should have gotten the certificate first and then booked the car. A short, but loud and sarcasm-encrusted debate, resolved the problem.

We had a great dinner with Mitra (and Stefan) and Melika (and Tom) at the Curious Palate in the Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica. Mitra also joined us for breakfast before our on-ward flight to Santa Fe by way of the largest city in New Mexico - an un-spellable location with airport code ABQ.

It was cold (and snowing) when we arrived in Santa Fe. We checked-in, selected a nice restaurant and were amazed...

“... at the price. This meal would cost at least three times as much in Zurich,” I explained. “In fact, everything will cost less here.”

“Everything, Dan?” Nazy asked.

“That’s right.”

“How about silver and turquoise bracelets?”

“Those will be cheaper, but you don’t need to get one just because it’s cheaper.”

“Who said anything about ‘one’?”

“Oops,” I thought.

Over the next few days, we strolled through the center of Santa Fe and Nazy, never one to ignore a challenge, did her very best to find items that cost more than they would in Switzerland. For example, we stopped at O’Farrell’s Hat Company on San Francisco Street.

“... In rabbit & beaver felt, that would be $1000,” the clerk explained as I tried on a cowboy hat.

“$1000?” I asked.

“Pure beaver felt would be $1200. Without the hat band.”

“How much is the hat band?” Nazy asked.

“That is hand-hammered silver,” Scott O’Farrell noted. “It runs $5280.”

“Naturally.”

“If you decide on a hat like that, we will measure the shape of your head. It normally takes 10 weeks to complete..”

“Ten weeks?” I replied. “I wonder what’s wrong with the shape of my head.” I thought.

“... but for short-time visitors, we can get everything done in six weeks.”

“What about this Panama Hat?” I replied, cleverly shifting the affordability scale of the conversation.

“Excellent choice, sir. That one was hand-made in Ecuador. Notice the extra-fine weave. It took 9 months to construct that hat - a bargain at $18,000.”

“Well, then,” I fumbled. “Let us think about the best choice.” I grabbed Nazy (she was trying on the hat that Audrey Hepburn wore in My Fair Lady) and headed to the Plaza.

“Do I win, Dan?” Nazy asked.

“No. You can’t find those hats in Zurich. No comparison. No victory.”

While hat-hunting, Nazy, wanting to find a bargain on art supplies, struck up a conversation with Scott’s wife. And..

“We need to drive to The Artisan, Dan. Santa Fe is the most artistic city in the world and The Artisan provides the supplies. I want to get an entire set of watercolors.”

The watercolors come in cubes costing roughly $3.00 each in Zurich. We knew that the price would be different..

“They range from $3.74 to $9.51 each,” the artist-in-residence (AIR) explained. “It depends on the color you choose.”

“They are cheaper in Europe,” I thought - astonished. “Are these exactly what you use?” I asked Nazy. But the AIR was changing direction.

“You should consider these instead,” he explained. “They are made by an autistic farmer who lives with a raccoon in Vermont. He uses honey as the binder and organic materials to impart the colors. These colors have superior transparency, excellent vibrancy, superb viscosity and..

“They attract bees,” I thought.

“...they don’t fade. Naturally, prices, ranging from $7.22 to $18.49 depend on the color.”

“Naturally,” Nazy replied. We decided to forgo watercolor purchases.

Take care and Cheers,

Santa Fe. New Mexico