I’m back! Back in Switzerland + on my way back to the tiny mountain town I fell in love with a few years ago. I booked my flight to Switzerland as soon as I accepted that winter job in the Colorado Rockies last October. As ridiculous as it seems, I was legitimately concerned I’d get a “real job” [seasonal as it was] + forget how to leave the country. My crazy doesn’t always make sense, but this time it got me back to Switzerland so I won’t apologize for it!

After van-tripping around Iceland I hopped on a plane to Switzerland to start a summer in the Alps. I’ve been in Zurich for a week. An uneventful week, for the most part. I’ve been nursing a cold [the only souvenir I brought back from Iceland, ironically] + dodging even more raindrops. Yes, more rain. Mother Nature’s tears have been following me around the world + each country I end up in. I need to start plotting a way to cheer her up…soon!

My time in Zurich has been spent wandering city streets, sleeping in, eating $32 burgers, reading books, drinking $8 lattes, writing memories, pondering life + slowly going stir crazy. Of all the big cities I’ve been in, Zurich is easily one of my favorite [I think Vienna still wins]. Even so, this girl can only take so many days surrounded by concrete + asphalt.

This past weekend was a nice break from the big city. I tagged along with friends + friends of friends down to southern Switzerland for a few days. We crashed a family’s BBQ, indulged in an Italian meal whipped up by Swiss-Italians, drove insanely steep + windy mountain roads, watched street hockey tournaments, ate homemade cheese in the barn it was produced in + wandered wanderwegs. It wasn’t what I expected, but it was kind of awesome! More importantly, it was a weekend I would have never been able to pull off on my own! I was just the girl along for the ride. I rarely had any idea what the game plan was, even when I was the one driving! Language barriers are real. Very real.

Surprisingly, my fluency in German did not magically increase while I was gone. Last weekend, I also learned that even my shoddy Spanish is more useful than English when surrounded by Italian speaking Swiss. It’s also been hypothesized that being fluent in Italian makes you a good chef. I may need to spend some more time testing this hypothesis, which I’m okay with!

At the moment, I’m surrounded by bits + pieces of my gear + clothes. Everything is nearly packed up. Mostly. I’m almost ready. I am about to break this constant cycle of packing, unpacking + repacking. In about an hour I’ll be on a train headed west…to Gryon. Tonight I’ll crash my head into a pillow under the roof of Chalet Martin. I can. not. wait. My heart is ready to chase happy in the mountains + my brain is begging for a little more structure + responsibility in my every day life.

There is a lot to love about Switzerland, no doubt. However, the time I spent volunteering at this hostel that I came back for + that I’m craving. I’m here for the relaxed mountain life, surrounded by people with rich histories + ambitious futures in the mountains. The Alps. I really don’t think my mom had any idea how appropriate of a name “Heidi” would end up being for me… [thanks, Mom!]


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