Our foreign correspondence

SWITZERLAND

On the wing

RICHARD KILIAN

Geneva The only thing worse than anti-hijacking measures in Switzerland is actually being hi- jacked. The Swiss have carried airport secur- ity measures to such new heights that soon people will revert, rather happily so, to slower, more comfortable means of trans- port. Even the dirigible is being reconsidered for long flights.

The other day I flew from Geneva to Zurich. With the winds that day it was a twenty-five minute internal flight due to take off at 5.20 pm. Here's the procedure: 1. Buy ticket (thirty seconds) 2. Check in (ten minutes) 3. Pass police check and passport control (three minutes) 4. Second passport check at the end of the corridor (seven minutes) 5. Hand baggage completely searched (eight minutes) 6. Pass through an electronic corridor (ten seconds) 7. Be frisked by a policeman (thirty seconds) 8. Show ticket at exit to plane (five seconds) 9. Identify luggage sitting on tarmac (one minute).

All of this -after reading in four languages the following poster pasted all over Coin- trin :

WARNING YOU ARE NOW ENTERING A MILITARILY GUARDED AREA. WHEN CALLED 'HALT' STOP RUNNING AND FOLLOW THE INSTRUCTIONS OF THE MILITARY GUARDS. THE TROOPS ARE ORDERED TO SHOOT IF THE FIRST WARNING TO STOP IS IGNORED.

Not very reassuring for a jumpy flyer!

What it means is that I had to get to the airport one hour early for a twenty-five minute flight that took off fifteen minutes late. And the hordes of battledressed soldiers, all, by the way, serving their three week annual duty, made me feel as though I was in Baghdad or Damascus rather than the old chocolate Switzerland of Heidi.

I have almost always found first impres- sions to be the best and the most enduring. Having just sped through London and Paris from New York I have some comparisons to make.

Pollution: In New York 1 found myself holding my breath involuntarily; visibility sometimes down to 200 yards in central Manhattan.

In Paris not much better but a very hot Indian summer could have been to blame.

London took top honours in the clean air game but as I left all those poor fish were floating in rivers turned into revolting open sewers.

Girls: New Yorkers doing mighty battle in the mini-midi-maxi war. Chief enemy of the male girl-watching class is Women's Wear Daily, sacrilegiously called the 'Bible' of the rag trade. For selfish, money-grubbing reasons it is pushing the longer dresses and skirts.

The Parisienne is knuckling under shame- fully to the great cover-up. Many reminded me of family album pictures of my dear

mum.

London birds still seem to achieve a nice balance. Plenty of minis about and when the maxi is worn it is usually unbuttoned far enough to please any part-time voyeur. In one pub I spotted a leggy girl (British girls win the leg contest every time) who had perhaps gone too far and her transparent knickers were a real conversation-stopper.

Food: Paris still the best by a long shot. London a nice second with New York a very poor third unless one is very rich.

I hesitate to include Geneva in this super- ficial survey.

But having spent many years reporting United Nations HQ in New York and now coming to UN here, some of the abiding cynicism that had accrued, layer by layer as UN proved incapable of coping with peace or war, was chipped away. I had the strong impression that the little people of the world came to work out problems in Geneva while the stars postured on the spotlighted stage in New York.

It seemed to me that the meetings under way now, like the one to help the average merchant seaman get a better deal (and his wife on board if wanted), mean much more than the endless and pointless bickering of the various councils in New York. And these international bodies obviously take care of their own for I had a haunting and persistent sense of déjà vu as I scanned the faces. Most of them had at- one time been in New York.

Last word: The Swiss never fail to amaze me. They are famed for their unswerving, non-committal obedience to one's wishes.

But someone at a luxury hotel decided that I should not get two shirts, nicely broken-in at the collar, washed and returned them to me. I saved twelve shillings on the deal but my two best shirts, frayed collars and all, are still dirty.