Down By the River
Crossing the Rhine in a motor‐less boat without an oar in sight, I began to re‐evaluate the bland, uber efficient stereotype given to many a Swedish city. Just like Zurich, everything in Basel runs efficiently to within a fraction of a second, blondes abound and there isn’t a trace of trash anywhere. However, scratch the surface and you’ll find a subtle hedonistic streak that’ll rival the raunchiest of the twenty to thirty something resorts.
The city might share its name with a key ingredient in a Capri salad, but that’s where the dull connotations end. A river crossing on the clever, rapid harnessing boats or a stroll along the south bank of the Rhine in the St. Alban Rheinweg area ‐ is all you need to confirm this. On any given day expect to see seasoned, Saga touring pensioners ambling past pierced and naked sunbathers, strewn spread eagle style on benches, concrete slabs and whatever else they can find to plant their cheeks on. Naked punk rockers soak up the sun next to the social elite of the prim and proper crowd, and no one bats an eyelid. In this respect Basel even eclipses the carefree ambience of Amsterdam.
Just beyond the Prince Albert parade you’ll find the wonderfully less than conventional Tinguely Museum. The museum’s namesake Jean Tinguely, was something of a barrier breaker in the art scene and his collection of moving machine sculptures, resembles a technologically primitive audition for Robocop. Many of the pieces fill display spaces the size of aircraft hangers and best of all, they’re all activated with the push of a giant, red, button! The exploded and suspended Formula One sports car, fused with a 1930s cinema projector is a big draw, as is the army of armour clad, stick men who resemble the magically animated troops in the final battle of Bedknobs and Broomsticks. You won’t find Angela Lansbury singing away here, but you will find a cool and culturally aware crowd to mix it with.
The city might share its name with a key ingredient in a Capri salad, but that’s where the dull connotations end. A river crossing on the clever, rapid harnessing boats or a stroll along the south bank of the Rhine in the St. Alban Rheinweg area ‐ is all you need to confirm this. On any given day expect to see seasoned, Saga touring pensioners ambling past pierced and naked sunbathers, strewn spread eagle style on benches, concrete slabs and whatever else they can find to plant their cheeks on. Naked punk rockers soak up the sun next to the social elite of the prim and proper crowd, and no one bats an eyelid. In this respect Basel even eclipses the carefree ambience of Amsterdam.
Just beyond the Prince Albert parade you’ll find the wonderfully less than conventional Tinguely Museum. The museum’s namesake Jean Tinguely, was something of a barrier breaker in the art scene and his collection of moving machine sculptures, resembles a technologically primitive audition for Robocop. Many of the pieces fill display spaces the size of aircraft hangers and best of all, they’re all activated with the push of a giant, red, button! The exploded and suspended Formula One sports car, fused with a 1930s cinema projector is a big draw, as is the army of armour clad, stick men who resemble the magically animated troops in the final battle of Bedknobs and Broomsticks. You won’t find Angela Lansbury singing away here, but you will find a cool and culturally aware crowd to mix it with.
Sports and More
Back by the river it’s worth taking an hour out to mix a few units with your bloodstream, while observing the sports scene. Champion punters put their counterparts at Oxford to shame with their navigation of the intricate obstacle course, laid out in a stretch of river that flows west at close to twenty miles per hour. The freestyle swimmers are equally nifty, stowing their belonging in buoyant bags before jumping in for sling shot swims. Specially constructed side channels give these brave souls a chance to escape the swell before the bend, but if you miss these ‐ then you are, quite simply, toast.
A great spot to calm your nerves after such an observatory session and one yet to be ruined by tourists, is the rooftop bar of the car park, directly opposite the Messeplatz tram station. Simply head to the top floor and amble towards the bamboo enclosure with the palm trees. You can’t miss it. It’s free to get in and inside you can enjoy a leisurely swim, a spot of volleyball on the imported beach or a cocktail, and a recline on one of the oh‐so‐cool hammocks. Ironically the bar is sponsored by Camel, but the no smoking policy means that all cigarettes get checked at the door.
For something of a hedonistic kinky kick without an alcoholic percentage, head on down the Cartoon Museum on St. Alban‐Vorstadt. This one is worth the trip just to gape in open mouthed awe at the reinvention of Barbie as the dominatrix ‘Bar‐bitch,’ and even if you don’t want to pay 12 Swiss Francs to get in, the postcard selection in the gift shop gives you an extensive preview of the best cartoons in the passing erotic collections. Think for example of various domestic animals, waiting in braced anticipation for the cuckoo clock to strike, and you’re half way there. Check the museum schedule to see which particular variety of erotica happens to be coming to town.
Back by the river it’s worth taking an hour out to mix a few units with your bloodstream, while observing the sports scene. Champion punters put their counterparts at Oxford to shame with their navigation of the intricate obstacle course, laid out in a stretch of river that flows west at close to twenty miles per hour. The freestyle swimmers are equally nifty, stowing their belonging in buoyant bags before jumping in for sling shot swims. Specially constructed side channels give these brave souls a chance to escape the swell before the bend, but if you miss these ‐ then you are, quite simply, toast.
A great spot to calm your nerves after such an observatory session and one yet to be ruined by tourists, is the rooftop bar of the car park, directly opposite the Messeplatz tram station. Simply head to the top floor and amble towards the bamboo enclosure with the palm trees. You can’t miss it. It’s free to get in and inside you can enjoy a leisurely swim, a spot of volleyball on the imported beach or a cocktail, and a recline on one of the oh‐so‐cool hammocks. Ironically the bar is sponsored by Camel, but the no smoking policy means that all cigarettes get checked at the door.
For something of a hedonistic kinky kick without an alcoholic percentage, head on down the Cartoon Museum on St. Alban‐Vorstadt. This one is worth the trip just to gape in open mouthed awe at the reinvention of Barbie as the dominatrix ‘Bar‐bitch,’ and even if you don’t want to pay 12 Swiss Francs to get in, the postcard selection in the gift shop gives you an extensive preview of the best cartoons in the passing erotic collections. Think for example of various domestic animals, waiting in braced anticipation for the cuckoo clock to strike, and you’re half way there. Check the museum schedule to see which particular variety of erotica happens to be coming to town.
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