Yesterday I visited Ben’s house to eat tiramisu. He’s our intern at the FSFE Zurich office and has been taunting me with tales of wonder, delight and high calorie counts for weeks.
On arrival I discovered that Ben’s house is rather unusual. It appears to be a converted church and even has one room where the organ continues to lurk in a corner. I’m told that there are a total of twenty people living in the building. There are four kitchens, six toilets and two balconies as well as a massive garden. I can’t really describe the place accurately. Just imagine it and assume that the reality is more quirky and outlandish.
Ben and I drank wine and ate potato chips on one balcony while discussing business in Free Software, science fiction and the Australian threat to French wine. Having consumed one bottle we made a strategic decision to relocate to the garden, where I spent some time playing with the rabbits while Ben slaved away in the kitchen.
On his reappearance he disturbed my friendship with the three small furry things, but at least he did bring interesting pasta, more wine and a massive bowl containing the pièce de résistance. The tiramisu was huge, rivalled only by oil tankers and freight trains in dimension. It tasted better than them too.
The end of our evening was spent in a blur of too much sweet, discussions about geopolitical strategy regarding production and economics, and something about Ben making a bigger dessert for all twenty people in the house soon.
Ah, French hospitality. You can’t beat it.
