Being slightly OCD, I’ve been tormenting myself about neglecting to reflect on the entirety of my 2015 Euro Trip.  If I am completely honest, I think I’ve had more trouble willing myself to compose reflections on the final leg of my European adventure because it has such rich significance to me and whenever I fear inadequate justice to my subject at hand, I adeptly procrastinate. Nevertheless, my inner voice has persisted, and has beckoned me to at long last put fingertips to keyboard in an attempt to regale the details of my final destination during my 2015 seven weeks abroad, and to bring some finality to that chapter in my life that was ultimately responsible for shaping pieces of who I am today.  With that, I’ll dust off the cobwebs from my photo albums and from my archived memories to share with you the magic of Switzerland, the most incredible and special destination I have yet explored on this beautiful planet.

I don’t like to admit this, but Alex actually had to persuade me to include Switzerland on our itinerary.  I fell in love with Italy when we visited for the first time back in 2011 and my vote was for finishing the trip in Capri or some seafaring Italian village.  However, I felt guilty for leaving Al to fend for himself and care for our needy cat solo all summer, so I let him win on this one.  The moment our train rolled from Italy into Switzerland, was the moment that confirmed Alex’s victory.  The scenery that came into focus aboard our train, my final of perhaps 15 different train rides that summer, for lack of a better cliche, took my breath away.  The magnitude of the lush, green alps, capped with snow gave me the same feeling I get when gazing up at a sky full of stars: gratefully and humbly insignificant.  I don’t like to take photos through windows of public transportation, but this scenery demanded it. From train ride in until plane home boarding, I felt desperate to try to wrangle home with me every last bit of beauty Switzerland so generously and effortlessly bestows upon its guests.

Our itinerary in Switzerland included one night in Lucerne, two nights in Gimmelwald, one night in Bern, and a final night in Geneva.

Al and I stayed in an Air B and B just outside of the city center of Lucerne.  This was our first time doing a private room within someone’s home… and the last.  The couple who owned the apartment was lovely, but after long days and nights of traveling, walking, wandering, and thinking through logistics, we longed for an entirely private place to hang our hats and unwind without feeling obligated to chat with strangers or keep our volume down.  Not to mention, the Air B and B room had a narrow full bed and no AC, which at this point was no surprise to me, but made for fitful rest.  Regardless, the location was ideal for tourism.  We boarded a clean public bus just steps from the apartment which took us just 9 minutes away to reach the city of Lucerne.  Like many European cities, Lucerne has an old city and a new city.  What is unique about Lucerne, however, is that it boasts one of the oldest and longest covered wooden bridges in all the world that connects the old to the new.  The bridge is certainly what attracted us to Lucerne, so this was our primary touristic ambition upon arriving into the city.  The bridge is called Chapel Bridge, following suit with most European commemorations and tributes, it was named after a church and for a saint, in this case,  its neighboring St. Peter’s Chapel.  The bridge stretches across the Reuss River, a rather enchanting body of water that can be enjoyed from many cafes and restaurants lining its banks. As if a covered wooden bridge isn’t whimsical enough in itself, the bridge is dressed with overflowing flower boxes, laden with fragrant and colorful flora that cascade over the edges of their confinement, seemingly trying to kiss the swans that regally glide upon the Reuss river below.  Clearly recalling my memories of this bridge inspires poetic thoughts! In addition to the natural beauty and floral enhancements surrounding the bridge, under the A-framing every 10-15 feet on the interior of the bridge, hang paintings dating back to the 17th century. The paintings provide a visual narrative of Lucerne’s history and folklore. Though expectantly crowded, we never felt our space was invaded nor that we couldn’t achieve photo-bomb-less photos.  I loved this bridge and would go back again in a heartbeat just to stroll through it once again.

We spent the rest of the day meandering the cobblestone alleys of the old town, bobbing in and out of cheese shops, and then ultimately finding our way back to the river’s edge for cocktails by the watermill.

All in all, Lucerne is worth a visit.  I am sure there is far more to see than what we accomplished in our 24 hours, but even if you just have a day on your way to Interlaken or Bern or Geneva, Lucerne is worth a day trip! It is one of those pedestrian-friendly cities with a fairytale vibe and historical charm.

Our next destination required multiple legs of transportation, so much in fact that it was comical. We first took a high speed train out of Lucerne only to then take two local trains, followed by two local buses, and then finally, a cable car to reach Gimmelwald, Switzerland, population: 60. Gimmelwald is a lush, idyllic, hills-are-alive-with-the-sound-of-music oasis nestled amidst the Swiss Alps. The second we disembarked from the cable car, which in itself is a somewhat thrilling experience, the first thing we saw were wheels of cheese the size of SUV tires, stacked atop one another.  Once we sidestepped the cheese wheels, we took in the panorama that will forever be the happy place I go to in my mind when needing a mental escape. Tiny wooden huts on stilts that housed the life-sized wheels of cheese dotted the path that led visitors from the cable car to the little forms of civilization that existed on the hillside. We walked past a sprinkling of guesthouses, Swiss chalets adorned with colorful flower boxes that perfumed the earthy air, and spotted cows grazing freely, the distant sound of their bells clanging like the delicate clamor of wind chimes.

Alex had booked us a room at Esther’s Guesthouse, a particularly significant name to my family, as my paternal grandmother was named Esther and she was very special to me. Esther’s guesthouse has a modest interior, as to not upstage the magnificence of its natural surroundings.  Our room was spacious and immaculate and Esther herself greeted us warmly, making us feel right at home. Our plan for day 1 included getting lunch, purchasing a bottle of wine, and then hitting the dusty trail for a hike to a waterfall called Spurtz.  We asked Esther about where we could find lunch, not all too keen on riding all the way back down the cable car and then perhaps needing to board a bus yet again to find sustenance.  Luckily, Esther highly recommended the Mountain Hostel for lunch and dinner. Though we were a bit leery of dining at a hostel, our hunger got the best of us and so we set off on the very short walk to the Mountain Hostel, truly a two minute walk from Esther’s.  The Mountain Hostel was about the furthest thing from the word hostel one could imagine.  It’s a rustic lodge, perfectly manicured with flower boxes on every window, an eclectic bar with exposed wooden beams, historical and musical paraphernalia dressing the walls, and a serene patio lined with flower filled planters that overlooks the most stunning view I have ever witnessed. We got a table on the patio and even though we were ravenous, we completely lost ourselves in the beauty and serenity of our 360 view.

What immediately stood out to me about Gimmelwald was its noticeable silence.  I crave quiet.  I have never experienced as calming a quiet as I did in Gimmelwald. It’s as if the Alps send this constant hush over the hills and valleys below them. We gazed up and our skyline was peppered with animated dots catching the winds above the Alps like they were waves on the sea.  They looked like dandelion seeds in the wind. We soon realized these were people paragliding, an apparently wildly popular activity for tourists and locals alike in the Interlaken/Lauterbrunnen region. I love a good thrill, but free wheeling at exponential heights such as these made me shudder. Alex of course was interested, and though he is an expert persuader, I was hoping he would forego the desire.

The staff at Mountain Hostel could have served us cold mush and we would have been happy dining al fresco in the sunshine beneath the Alps, but to make matters even more sublime, the food was amazing and our server was friendly.  With happy hearts and bellies we set out on our hike.

Our hike to Spurtz Waterfall was no easy climb in 86 degrees. We got a tad lost and turned around because much of the signage is in German, but we were happily lost. The trail took us through pastoral hillsides of goat farms and wildflower meadows, before we got to a wooded portion that took us through forest blanketed with pine needles and moss. Halfway up the ascent we took a much needed break on a hand-carved bench that sat opposite a clearing in the trees through which we could gaze upon the snow-capped Alps that scraped the sky. I stood up from the bench and went to get a closer glimpse through this natural window. When I turned around, Alex was directly behind me… on one knee! And there, surrounded by the mountain forest, Al told me he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me, took out a dazzling ring from a pouch he had been hiding in his boxer shorts, and sent me into high-altitude hysterics. After tears, kisses, and countless selfies, we continued on our merry way to the Spurtz waterfall, a waterfall that will forever be worth chasing for Al and me. Oh by the way… I said yes!

We managed to reach Spurtz where we climbed underneath the waterfall and through a cave, to the other side. A bridge straight out of a storybook hung over a babbling stream running down the middle of the ceaselessly awe-inspiring Alps backdrop. We took out the bottle of wine we were able to purchase back in “town” and spent the next two hours staring out at the dreamlike landscape while Al explained how he had been able to hide his intricate proposal plan from me. On our way back down the mountain, we stopped at the scene of the proposal to carve our initials on the back of the bench that will forever mark the beginning of another adventure in our story. The scout in me didn’t love leaving the trace, but we just had to.  Our plan is to one day return to this very trail, hopefully with future children, and relive our moment.

For dinner that evening we returned to Mountain Hostel for yet another terrific meal on the patio under a star strewn sky.  The bar had live music and we stayed so late that we ended up hanging with the locals and staff into the wee hours outside under the stars on the patio.  Alex even graced our new friends with some jams on one of their guitars.  It was one of those disgustingly perfect days that could never be recreated.

Still coasting on engagement bliss, I didn’t care what we did that following day.  We tried to book Via Ferrata, a ropes course anchored by iron stakes through the mountains, but it was entirely booked through the rest of our stay- lesson learned: next time pre-book the outdoor tourism activities when traveling to Switzerland. Thankfully Alex had foregone his desire to paraglide, so I was off the hook on that one.  Ultimately we decided to go into Interlaken, which has more of a town and population than Gimmelwald to do a little shopping and exploring.  Interlaken was a sweet mountain town with plenty of shopping, cafes, and restaurants.  I bought Al an early birthday gift and got him a Swiss watch that is still one of his favorite accessories to this day.  Be forewarned though, Switzerland is crazy expensive! We considered riding the cable car all the way to the top of Schilthorn mountain, as Gimmelwald is a village on the way up to the top of this mountain, but the ride to the top was $200 per person.  When we returned to Esther’s guesthouse that evening, we saw another family using the community kitchen to make pasta, which was a wise and sensible option that we will likely take part in when we return.

The next morning we were off to Bern.  We bid Esther farewell but first told her about our big engagement news.  She told us that next time when we come back we need to purchase a tiny little shirt that says, “conceived in Gimmelwald.”

I had read about a popular summer pastime in Bern that we were eager to try: floating down the glacially cold Aare River.  So when we arrived fairly early into Bern, we quickly dressed for water adventures and walked to the waterfront park near the river, which on a hot summer day is packed with Europeans of all ages and sizes, sunning themselves at the public pool or bobbing down the river.  We laid our things out at the public pool, stripped down to our swimsuits, and took the lovely mile long stroll on the pathway parallel to the river.  We could have kept walking further, but after a mile we were ready to submerge ourselves and join what felt like the rest of Bern in the cooling parade down the Aare. Though Alex nearly broke his toe getting in, we giddily enjoyed the refreshing trip down toward the city center.  There are cement steps all along the way for river riders to enter or exit, but everyone must be careful and cautious about exiting at the final exit, because otherwise you’ll continue on to plummet down a treacherous waterfall.  We did this twice before taking a cat nap back on our towels at the public pool.  This was a whole lot of fun, and what’s more is, it was completely free!

We arrived to Bern to discover the city celebrating with a flavorful and lively festival. Stages were being set up and the air was ripe with summer excitement.  After showering off back at our hotel, we explored the city center for a bit, admiring the parliament building with its 26 fountains, symbolizing all 26 Swiss “states.” What I remember most fondly from our time in Bern is strolling through its old town, which by early evening was bustling with street festival goers.  There were live bands on nearly every corner and creative games set up for children and adults who act like children to try their hand at as they sampled street vendor foods and drinks.  We got champagne and a snack before parking ourselves at an outdoor patio directly across from a live band.  I highly recommend visiting Bern in August for the perfect Aare River bobbing weather and the street festival, we had a perfect European summer day and night.

Our final destination was Geneva.  There was kind of that dark haze overhead of this final stop, only because it was just that: final.  The anxiety of returning home after being away for so long was starting to creep in, so we decided to keep it at bay by eating and drinking our way through Geneva.  We enjoyed strolling the streets, people watching, and doing some final souvenir shopping.  We decided to splurge and indulge in some drinks and fondue for the afternoon before we headed to the city center where we discovered a carnival.  Like Bern, Geneva was celebrating as well. Though it was past August 1, we learned that August 1 marks Swiss National Day and many cities celebrate for the first week or two of August. I couldn’t have imagined a more momentous and befitting encore ending to my adventure abroad than a spectacular fireworks show overhead a carnival set up along Lake Geneva.

Grateful for this extravagant send-off, I took a moment to reflect on my journey, one that had been such a long time in the making.  After all, the journey begins when you accept the call, which I had done almost a year prior.  I was considering teaching abroad for a year and had applied with a company that matches eligible teachers with various schools in various reaches of the world. Not all things in life should be determined by relationships, but after much deliberation, I decided that I wouldn’t be happy being so far and away from my now husband for that long of a period.  After doing some smaller solo travel in that year prior, I concluded that for me, happiness is only real when shared.  Sure, I dig my alone time like the next socially anxious introvert, but after deeply soul searching I decided I couldn’t teach abroad without my man.  Therefore, I compromised with myself and with him. Being a school teacher afforded me the perfect amount of time to seize an adventure without the heartache or homesickness.

This was me negotiating and accepting my call, a call that actually dates back to high school when I fell in love with learning the Spanish language & about the culture.  I started kindling a fire within that burned for exploring the exotic, the unknown, immersing myself in something completely foreign and different.  I had always planned to study abroad during college, but it just didn’t work out that way.  Ultimately, I feel satisfied and grateful that I got the opportunity to go when I did because my priorities were far different than what my priorities and means would have been if I went abroad during college.  Additionally, having the chance to experience each leg of my trip with different significant people in my life also made this such a unique and charmed experience. When you cross the threshold into the unknown, all senses are heightened, and therefore, the memories you create are richly sensory and deeply unforgettable. And when you get to share those types of memories with someone you care for, well, those are the memories that matter, the ones by which we frame our lives.