I pulled the Curtains Yesterday Evening – with apologies to Louise, Kevin(s) and Tina

Bill Hall put me on the spot a few months back, asking me about things I liked and didn’t like about Switzerland. I do not remember my answer. I expect that it was somewhat feeble, referring to the usual subjects that we think about when talking about Switzerland, such as the trains and the mountains. (It wasn’t British Rail’s fault that the train that I was going to catch last month on my way to London City Airport was cancelled because of a badger on the line – Hazel tells me that it was not a defective locomotive, which is my suspicion).

On arriving in Norwich, I started to keep a note of my various observations of differences between England and Switzerland. Some of these fall into the + or – categories, but some are just observations. The list is becoming quite long now, and I am not sure what I will do with it eventually, but I’ll just keep going for the time being.

One of these was that the English pull their curtains, either with netting or half-slit blinds and curtains or fully drawn blinds in the evening. I commented on this to Louise, my daughter who lives in Norwich. “Why do you do this?” I asked, as one might. “To stop people looking in.” she said, without conviction. “What people? Who is looking in?” “Hmmm, I see what you mean”. (Later, she revised her statement and said that people do look in, but agreed that she was not sure whether this mattered – but I think it does matter to the English.)

This conversation was repeated with Kevin and Tina in Switzerland during my visit home to Thalwil, last month. They had been staying in our apartment for a month, having a holiday and “Apartment-sitting for us”. The blinds were down at 10.00 pm and the conversation was repeated, almost word for word.

Now before you think that I am having a go at those people who are very good friends and family and who are precious to me, the point of the blog is to make a confession. On my return to Norwich, I pulled the curtains. Yes – I PULLED THE CURTAINS. Or to put this into the passive tense, “The curtains were pulled by me.”

“Why Did I Do this?” I thought to myself. An inward groan (or was it actually outwardly expressed?) might have actually been audible down the street. I can make various excuses. Let’s try a few on for size and see if they fit.

Excuse Number 1 - We are on the ground floor, so people might look in. Although they could, they don’t. I know, because I normally watch them. (And if they did look in, so what?)

Excuse Number 2 – The view isn’t particular interesting. This is only partially true. It is not as good as the view from the Thalwil apartment across the Zurich Lake, but the Norwich view down our cul-de-sac is quite pretty in a suburban sort of way. The ghostly street sign, warning people of motor cyclists jumping over cars (work it out for yourself), casts a fascinating glow over the whole scene. The cul-de-sac itself has some pleasant bushes and has a pleasing symmetry, which mathematical types like me appreciate. (I am one of those people who like to straighten rugs on the floors and pictures on walls, even when they are meant to be “off-centre”).

Excuse Number 3 - It is just something in the air. It is something that you acquire when you come through passport control into England. It is genetic, handed down through the generations. What survival mechanism is provided by this is not immediately obvious? (Perhaps it evolved so that the Romans and other foreigners couldn’t look in to see if you were there).

So there you have it. It wasn’t my (Louise’s, Kevin’s or Tina’s) fault, Your Honour. Society’s to blame.

Anyway, I propose that the European Commission should do something about this. We cannot have people in different countries pulling their blinds and curtains down at different times. There should be some uniformity about this, and while we are on this topic, they should set up the “Curtain Police” to go round and enforce it, thus reducing unemployment at the same time. This could all be funded by a special tax on curtains and blinds.

So my apologies to Louise, Kevin and Tina (and Bill Hall). No more conversations about curtains again, I promise (until the next time).