No wonder people are distressed by lifesize Orlando Bloom posters.

Wednesday night, 6 August 2008
Zurich

We spent the night of the 6th in oldtown Zürich, in a little rock-n-roll inn called Zic Zac Rock Hotel.

Oldtown Zürich has narrow cobbled streets for pedestrians only, and the entrance to the Hotel is around the corner from the address given. This is because the Hotel begins on the second floor, and the address is to the building and the stairs are around the side. There is a bustling sidewalk cafe below the hotel. We arrived there after dark and bumbled about for a bit trying to decide exactly where we belonged, until a nice waiter took pity on us and led us around to the door.

Zic Zac Rock Hotel is a unique little place. Each of the rooms is named after a musical group or artist, designated by a little plaque on the door, and there are little guitars in the carpet and rock memorabilia on the walls. J and I were placed in the George Michael room (spelt "Georg" Michael on the door plate... he must be Austrian).

The Georg Michael room was quite a terrifying experience.

The proprietors must not have been able to find many George Michael mementoes, but we also didn't see inside any of the other rooms, so that is based purely on assumption. On one wall was hung a small photo of George Michael at a concert. On the wall next to my bed was a GIGANTIC MURAL of George Michael leering into the room. J made me sleep next to him.

I distracted myself from the prying eyes of the mural by tuning into one of the three television channels to watch some soccer. Bellinzona played FC Aarau in the Swiss Super League. Tragically, even my beloved footy couldn't take away the utter creepiness. Maybe it was the lock of painted hair falling suggestively on the painted forehead. Maybe it was because the entire room was a delicate yellow color. Maybe it was the creepy eyes that burned this image into my brain forever... actually yeah. I think that was it.

Our window opened above another sidewalk cafe, so the fabulous smells and the sound of laughter drifted up to us long after we fell asleep under the watchful eyes of Mr. George Michael. In the morning we took the tram back to Zurich Hoptbahnhof (main station) and caught the early train to Schaffhausen, away from Zurich and George Michael.

Why couldn't we have stayed in the "John Bon Jovi Room"?