My exit from Switzerland was a culmination of sadness and happiness. The month had been filled with new experiences, with self-realisations, with pushing through when I was struggling, and, as always, learning opportunities.
My inner scheduled self, competed with the openness of my continuation. During the final week of my stay all I had booked was a flight to Berlin. No accommodation, no research of transport, no worries…? The Beast was no help, either; it had taken over a whole corner of the room, spewing clothes and mementos.
A much needed reprieve from ‘life admin’ and itinerary concoction was an evening at the Sargans Jazz Festival. My host family had gifted me with a ticket, and as I adore jazz music, I was humbled to receive this night out. Under the castle and sunset sky I sifted through different marquees, immersing myself in different timbres and tempos; until an older man began following and staring at me, before trying his luck in his native tongue. That was my cue that it was time to go home.
On my final day, once The Beast was packed down and under control, I found it hard to leave. So much had happened during this month; so many highs and so many lows, nestled amid the lush green mountains and cool blue lakes. It was time to move on, time for a new adventure.
My host and I tearfully embraced, before I bustled onto the train with a stash of new memories. As it had a month earlier, the track curved through the landscape with the clackety-clack – a soundtrack for new beginnings.
I met my friend at the train station, in Zurich. He was there at my entrance into Switzerland, and he was also there to hug goodbye. He took me for the best mocha that I’d sipped on in a long time, and we reminisced at how only a year earlier we’d met, when he’d camped on my couch for over a week. I guess that’s the beauty of travelling; connecting with stellar people along the way.
The very last train ride in Switzerland, was back to the airport. I like those train journeys, when your destination is the last stop, because you really can’t screw that up. I had plenty of time to spare, so I parked up at a bar with Bluebell, my laptop, in front of me and a glass of Rivella. I got carried away with writing, and came close to missing my flight. The pattern of near misses, I have come to learn, has a lot to do with beverages in general, or the after-math of.
In a window seat, where I overlooked the clouds and welcomed my complimentary chocolate and Movenpick ice cream from Swiss Air; the sweetness complimented my month in Switzerland. I looked out to what may come and dreamed of my next adventures in Berlin. Until then X