Let's be franc...

It’s safe to say our proficiency in train stations, and riding trains should be it’s very own blog. “How to Maneuver Through Train Stations With 16-Liter Backpacks In Countries Full of Slow Walkers,” is sure to be on the Best Seller List. Well you guessed it, we are now heading on a train to Germany after having been in Switzerland for a little over a week. We feel as though we had the opportunity to see different parts of the country, as well as taking a much needed break from unpacking and repacking every couple of days. This was the first country (and the start of a few more to come) where both Kenz and I were unable to discern any of the language. Swiss-German would often elicit a giggle from one of us, and the proud Swiss native would then begin speaking perfect English. There we would stand, yet again, humbled at this countries ability to speak 4+ languages with ease and proficiency.

Our first stop in Switzerland was Bern, the country’s capital. We ventured out on a Sunday, where we quickly discovered stores remain closed, and the local Bernians? Bernites? Bernonians? do not venture outdoors. With all the layers we could put on, whilst still able to move our appendages, we walked the streets alone, surrounded by buildings that were all the exact sandstone green. This dollar-bill green, was unfortunately just a reminder that we had entered a country that charges 8 francs for a small Starbucks coffee. We quickly discovered the plethora of clocks, knives, jewelry stores, and our inability to afford much of anything. The following day, we ventured to Wichtrach, the home of our hosts Eveline and Burkhard. Once there, they graciously treated us to various ways of eating pork, potatoes, sauerkraut and a new appreciation for Swiss wine. Looking out the window of their apartment that very first day, Kenz and I discovered the beauty of their homeland. The Alps.

As of this point in our trip, we had seen a lot of different landscapes and natural beauty, but nothing like what we saw this day in Switzerland. In just a short thirty-minute drive, Eveline took us to the base of Stockhorn, just one of the mountains that make up the expanse of the Swiss Alps. There we took a gondola up to the very top, and Kenz and I were floored. If I could create a list of the “Top 5 Sights to See Before You Die,” this would be a hard view to beat. Clear blue skies and a panoramic view of these snow-capped mountains, and we were experiencing bliss. Add some vin chaud (hot wine), and a cafe sans other tourists, and we gawked in amazement. We are SO grateful to Eveline for sharing with us that day we will never forget.

While in Switzerland, we looked for activities that would keep us out of the cold and awkward daily mist. One rainy day, we traveled to see the Musée de l’Art Brut in Lausanne. It was a museum full of pieces done by people who have either been hospitalized, institutionalized, or have lived their life with a mental disorder. Cut to three hours later, and Kenz and I leave having seen every single piece and read every single plaque.  This was by far the most interesting and thought-provoking museum I have ever been to. It was inspiring to see art that was not created for the sake of art, or created without a single art class. To look at a piece where you can see the internal struggle of being stuck in one’s own mind was captivating and sometimes chilling. For me it was fascinating to discover that so many artists from these pieces had really challenging childhoods and the hard spiral that soon followed (don’t worry, I’ll leave out my child development theories…this time J).  Following this venture, Eveline set up a meeting to visit Les Dames de Hautecour, a family-owned winery where we were gifted a private and personal a tour and tasting. I won’t pretend to have any sort of advanced knowledge on this subject, however, in my humble and unbiased opinion, if you are an inquiring mind, and would love to learn more from a gifted blogger and wine critic, click on the following link à agirlandavine.blogspot.com.

Last night, our final night in Switzerland, was spent preparing a thank you dinner to our hosts. After discovering the shockingly small and expensive ethnic food section in the local supermarket, Kenz and I managed to bring a little Cali-Mexican flare to the table. I am still not completely sure who enjoyed it more. While Eveline ooed and awed, Kenz and I settled into the comfort and excitement that came with eating a meal with spice, lime, and avocado, and we grinned at each other in sheer appreciation for our abundantly flavorful country. You don’t realize the beautifully expansive palette of our great West Coast, until you are without it for about a month, and you begin craving salsa as though it’s your dying wish.

Although our time in Switzerland has been great, with hosts to match, we are ready to journey up North (Brr, why do we keep voluntarily dropping in Celsius?) to tour Germany for a couple of days. There we will visit Dachau, see the sights, and experience first-hand the land where my favorite beer was born. 

Avidizen, Switzerland, your chocolate and mountains successfully lived up to your reputation.