Switzerland, 2010

23 Apr

You know that moment when you’re doing something completely mundane  like unscrewing the cap on the laundry detergent or opening your front door for the n-th time, and this one time, for some reason, a powerful memory comes out of nowhere and grabs you by the nose, yanking you hard?

That totally just happened to me.  I was unwrapping my chocolate while sitting in the library (again; I live here) and was punched in the face by Switzerland.

Specifically, unwrapping Swiss chocolate on a bus going through the Alps as we drove across from Italy into Switzerland on a concert tour where I played flute with the most amazing band I’ve ever played with.  We sounded so good.  I was so happy, for a solid five weeks.  I can’t articulate how I feel about that summer even now, two years later.

We took a bus to six countries: Germany, Austria, Italy, Switzerland, France, and Luxembourg.  Some day I’ll post all of these pictures.  Some day I will find the France pictures and post those.  Ha.

Ha.

Oh my God I need to find those pictures.

I don’t know what to say about these.  The Alps.  What can you say.  What I remember best is how it was summer, it was July and sweltering in Italy and Austria, but the air was cold in Switzerland.  It’s something I’ve never felt anywhere else.  The climate is warm, but the air is cold.  That’s the closest I can get to describing this.

I can’t think of anytime I was happier than when I was in Europe.  I have never felt more at home, more content, or more excited consistently and on a daily basis.

I’m actually not crazy about these pictures.  My Italy and Germany pictures are great.  I don’t have many of Salzburg mysteriously.  But you know, I don’t know how to photograph mountains.  I never did before this.  I’d been on a few in America, but when I was very young, when I didn’t love them and appreciate them.

Do you know how I got this particular picture?  See down there, where there’s concrete and buildings?  That’s where we were parked.  My friends and I had a picnic right on that lake yonder, which consisted of Nutella and Other Things On Which to Slather Nutella.

After lunch, I was pretty restless, so I went off the little hills by the lake and across parking lot to the foot of the opposing mountain.

Then I ran up.  Like, literally all the way up to where I was standing when I took this.  I just climbed as fast as I could, pulling myself up bump by bump, propelled by years of cross country and an overabundant energetic outpouring of rampant happiness the likes of which I had never felt before.

And then I slide back down like the Alps were my personal slide.  It was.  Magical.

I’d never been so high up, certainly.

This is the chocolate I was reminded of.

In the door of our room leading out to the deck.  I almost walked straight through it.

The view from our room.  I say our.  Not me and my roommate.  We were in a suite-style room, so my roommate and I were paired with another duo.  My roommate and I split into different rooms, so I was with a random girl.

Her name is Corinne, and she’s my best friend.  We see each other bi-annually, trading states.  I go to Rhode Island in the summer and she comes to New York in the winter.  We love telling people how me met in Switzerland.

My best relationships have happened by pure chance.

A cable car riding up the local mountain.

I don’t remember the name of the town where we stayed.  Typical.  But it was in the more German part of Switzerland, before we went to Chateau-aux-Fonds in the French part.  Then on to Dijon, Paris, and Luxembourg…

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