Frames of Reference

It's as if I've lost all bearings.  Without a frame of reference, up becomes down. Left equals right.  Any attempt to steer simply results in unrealized intent.  All I see is sky, sky, and more sky.  I thought that the sky and the ground, in their constant uniforms, would be my friends.  Feeling betrayed I grapple with reorientation. And then, everything stops.  The world is no longer spinning, my heart is no longer racing, and control once again belongs to me.  The opening of the hatch interrupts the darkness and I exit the flight simulator.  I catch the grin of my copilot, Melody, and we burst out laughing.  It's amazing how fun and fear can unite seamlessly.

The flight simulator at the Swiss Transportation museum in Lucerne mirrors the sensations of studying abroad in an honest way.  As preparation falters, expectations are rendered irrelevant, habits are left useless and once routine actions are formidable obstacle courses.  I'm nearing the end of three weeks in St. Gallen and am finally beginning to establish familiar patterns.  The main train station, the tiny Migros down the block, Uni campus, bus line 7, Stuckelburgstrasse 5 - these are all familiar places to me now and the feeling that I'm a stranger is fading away.  One of the reasons I chose to spend my semester in St. Gallen was because the city wasn't a popular study abroad location or popular tourist destination; it's a place where I can feel comfortable, a place that I can make a home away from home.  

However in my three weeks abroad, I haven't spent the entire duration in homey St. Gallen.  I decided early on to skip the German 2 week introductory course in exchange for some unforgettable memories.  It seemed like a cut and dry choice to me! I've been to Lucerne, Geneva, and Munich - all amazingly beautiful places.  Lucerne is a small town in German speaking Switzerland not too far from St. Gallen.  Quite the opposite, Geneva is all the way across the country right by the borders of France and Italy; it's a truly international city and a symbol of peace and neutrality all around the world.  Munich is Germany at its finest with its stunning architecture and great reputation for classic beer. My trips all varied in distance, duration, and company but each was a special experience.

Lucerne

Lucerne is absolutely magical, magical in that it feels like -1 F when it's only -1 C.  Conversation is stilted because people are too busy shivering to manage polite conversation especially if English isn't their native language.  It'll be a while before any of us are warm and toasty again.  

We slowly stroll along, making our way towards Old Town.  Soon my nose is assaulted with the aromas of sharp cheeses and fresh meats.  The open-air market of Lucerne sits next to the river and though the day is cloudy and cold, the locals and tourists alike leave their warm beds to make a few delicious purchases that are sure to be worth the numb fingers and toes.  At the end of line of stalls, we cross one of the historic wooden bridges almost as old as the city itself.  We walk slowly keeping our eyes on the ceiling as to admire the lovely colorful paintings that adorn the supports of the bridges "roof".  

A St. Gallen student leads the tour and he seems to realize that his quick blurbs about the history of the city fall deaf on most our ears as we glower and glare at the gloomy sky.  He catches our attention, however, when he announces our next destination as an old church, most likely with a heated interior.  The happy bump in mood is palpable as we set off down the cobblestone streets.  To reach the church we must first conquer a large and long set of stairs.  We bound up them, two steps at a time, in anticipation.  All I'm thinking as I push open the large wooden doors is please God let there be warmth.  If there were any place He would grant this wish, it would be here in this magnificent church.  When a wall of heat hits me, I sigh in relief and gratitude.  I am consciously aware of my muscles relaxing as this is the first time in hours my shoulders aren't hunched as a shield to the frigid wind.  And then I finally notice the sacred beauty that surrounds me.  No matter how many churches I see in Europe, I don't think their splendor could ever get old.  

After lunch it's time for the museum where we will spend our entire afternoon.  Most of us have some mixed feelings about this, which isn't unexpected.  However, as soon as I walk into the Swiss Transportation Museum, I embrace my inner elated four-year-old child and I leave my surly "a museum for 3 whole hours?" attitude at the door.  From racing on rowing machines to touring a submarine to playing with toy trains to simply posing for goofy pictures, time passes quickly and just as I'm finished exploring all the museum has to offer (the flight simulator just couldn't be topped), it's time to board the bus back to St. Gallen.  Worn out by the cold and the excitement, I ward off dozing by chatting with my fellow Gamecock, Nick Cannon, about all we've seen so far, the places we want to go, and of course, how much we miss USC.  

One of many beautiful churches I've seen!

Largest collection of road signs at the Swiss Transportation Museum!
As you can see, I'm a baller!

Ready for take off!

We couldn't help goofing around!

Geneva

The train rounds a bend and there it is: the sun.  It shines above a vast and glittering lake.  I look around and see that the faces of my travel companions mirror mine.  We are all in awe of the beauty.  I think it's the first time any of us have seen the sun since arriving in Switzerland.  St. Gallen has been cursed with an omnipresent overcast haze.  We stare for a few moments before phones, GoPros, and cameras are found so that we can each preserve this beautiful image for years to come. But no matter how many pictures we take, nothing can compare to the real thing. 

It doesn't even come close!

We spend our first afternoon simply basking in the sun's rays while we explore Lake Geneva and the Cathedral de St. Pierre.  Day 2 in Geneva we do something a little unexpected - we release the inner geek inside all of us and get educational.  

We spend the morning at the Palais de Nations - which is home to the United Nations.  It's the largest UN operations site outside headquarters in NYC and also the former location of the UN's precursor the League of Nations.  By some stroke of luck, we arrive just as the office is opening and join the very first tour of the day.  When we reach the Salle Des Assemblée, one of the oldest and most famous rooms where all the member countries convene, we couldn't help but take a few pictures as if we were the representatives for our home nations, smiling behind the country placards that still sat upon the desks. 

#reppin'

That afternoon we head out of the city to CERN hoping to catch as glimpse of the Higgs Boson, sometimes referred to as the God particle.  Having recently watched the movie, The Theory of Everything, which recounts the tale of Stephen Hawking's life, I'm excited to immerse myself in the world of theoretical physics - not a typical area of interest for me.  I'm soon swept up as our tour guide recounts the history of CERN and shows us the original particle accelerator that ran for 33 years.  

the original collider

Next we get make our way across the complex (by the way, CERN is huge) to see the LHC (aka Large Hadron Collider).  Well you can't actually see it as it's underground and is a ring of superconducting magnets that's 27km in circumference (told you CERN is huge) but you get my point.   Instead our guide actually leads us to the ATLAS (one of several particle detectors) control room where teams of researchers are gearing up for an experiment that will run for three whole years.  Our guide explains that ATLAS looks for fundamental particles, especially those that make up dark matter of which most of the universe is made.  The work at CERN is crazy fascinating and science geek or no, a visit is definitely worth your time.  If you really want to know more about all this stuff, I highly recommend reading "The 4% Universe" which I downloaded to my Kindle upon my return to St. Gallen and has since continued to blow my mind. 

Our first view once we exit the train station.

Lake Geneva

As a lover of sailing, I just couldn't help myself.

 . . . such pretty boats.

Looking out at the city and its lake.

The Reformation Wall

From soaking up much needed Vitamin D to international affairs to theoretical physics, Geneva is my favorite place I've traveled so far! 

Munich

The best thing about cities in Europe is their historic town squares; when you don't have a detailed trip itinerary, it's the best place to start a visit and that's exactly what we were doing as a group of sixteen spontaneous students studying abroad.  After arriving at the bus station in Munich, we headed straight for the center of the city: Marienplatz. We wander down the main street until we reach the famous Glockenspiel where we can't resist taking a group photo with the stunning architecture as a background. One could stare at the clock tower's ornate facade for hours. 

Glorious Glockenspiel!

After we've made our way through more stores and hordes of fellow travelers and locals too, we reach the Hofbrauhaus where we dine on wieners and schnitzel and sip beer from steins as big as my face. The beer hall is loud, as it should be, and I gaze around at the crowded tables.  Laughter bounces off the colorfully painted ceiling and wraps the halls in warmth.  The waitresses weave through the tight spaces left between chairs and tables all the while carrying several steins in one hand, food in the other, and dressed in the attire of a quintessential beer maid.   Making plans for the rest of our stay. my friends and I shout at each other across the table, taking frequent breaks to toast everything under the sun.  

In the moment, I don't see how our time in Munich can get any better than this. But it does! The next day, returning from a visit to the 1972 Olympic Park and BMW World, a few of us get separated from the rest of the group on the crowded subway.  Thinking that the game plan was to head back to Marienplatz for an hour or so before catching the bus back to St. Gallen, I tell everyone in our small group to get off there. As we ride the escalator exiting the station, music drifts through the air.  I find myself singing along to "Summer Lovin'" from Grease. Well, isn't that strange? Stranger yet is when we reach the surface and are suddenly immersed in Munich's celebration of Carnival or "Fasching" as it's known in Bavaria, Germany.  For the rest of the afternoon, we join in the festivities even purchasing some colorful bowler hats and confetti from street vendors.  We sing along to accented covers of American artists from the 80s and dance until we can dance no more! What started out as a panicky accident in getting separated from a large group turned out to be the best part of the trip and before we knew it, we had to head back to St. Gallen and leave the fun behind. 

SO MUCH CONFETTI

Having fun with friends!

Drinking the Sun

I'm sitting on a cold, hard bench overlooking Lake Geneva. I'm freezing and fatigued yet I am overwhelmed by a sense of bliss. Though I miss my friends, family and home, I feel unmistakably whole. While staring at the shimmering lights reflected on the water's surface, I can't help but reflect on the wonderful day I've had. I walked the cobblestone streets of Geneva's old town while breathing in the tantalizing scents of chocolate and coffee. I explored the marina admiring both the beautiful boats and the jaw-dropping view. Then it was off to the Cathedrale du St. Pierre where the stained glass and intricate woodwork left me awestruck but not as awestruck as the view from the North Tower. After a grueling climb up thousands of steps, I was rewarded with crystal blue water and scarlet rooftops and a setting sun. Today I made memories that will bring me back to this city again and again. It's subtle beauty that peeks around every corner keeps me chasing more and more. When gazing at the city from the balcony of the North Tower, I felt as if I was drinking the sun. And since I've embraced the beauty and warmth, I am very much in a state of bliss and no amount of cold or exhaustion can take that away from me.

Fear of Freedom

The snow sits upon the hills like a blanket tucked in tight only strengthening my desire for sweet slumber soon.  With a jolt, the plane touches down and we glide into the gate.  With efficiency only the Swiss possess, we're quickly swept onto a tram, through customs, and before I know it I'm searching for the blue duffel encasing my backpack at the baggage claim. There it is.  I grab it and finally realize: this is it.  Here I am in Switzerland and what happens next is 100% up to me.  It's the kind of freedom that squeezes your heart so hard, you think it will jump right out of your chest but it somehow keeps beating, faster and faster.

Before I get too caught in the web of my thoughts, I start making decisions and making them fast.  First, it's off to currency exchange, then I'm racing out of the arrivals gate and into the main airport center where I quickly locate the sign directing me towards the Railway Center.  Only a million escalators later and I'm standing in front of a self service kiosk.  I'm proud to say I purchase a ticket to Zurich HB (the main train station in the center of the city) in German and after even more escalators, I find myself standing on a platform and then with a long hard glance at my ticket I realize . . . I have no idea what train I'm supposed to get on.  Okay, I think to myself.  I can do this.  After double checking, triple checking, and quadruple checking my ticket against the arrivals board I'm still utterly confused.  I'll have to suck it up and seek some kind soul who speaks English to help me out. And that's when I finally notice it.  All the trains will stop at Zurich HB.  So as confused as I still am, I decide to wing it and hop on the next train that pulls up.  With a stroke of intelligence (okay - maybe luck), I board and an eerily quick ten minutes later I'm suddenly disembarking in the heart of Zurich.  Well, that was easy?

Zurich HB is a monument in its own right; strong and regal it stands right on the edge of the Limmat River.  The river itself calls your attention, definitively contained by two aged stone walls and periodically crisscrossed by bridge after bridge. Clock towers are visible in the distance and I can just catch a glimpse of the river opening to the mouth of Lake Zurich.  Trying to preserve the motivation I felt before, I hit the streets hard and with purpose.  Despite my speedy pace and aching back, I am soaking up the beauty of my surroundings.  It's such a surreal experience being responsible for myself in a strange city, relying on  solely my mind and my body to accomplish my goals.  I head for the hostel I booked from home in the U.S.  If I make it by 12pm then I can leave my bags at reception until check in at 3pm.  A look at my watch tells me it's almost 11:30am (I thankfully and conveniently remembered to change it on the flight over thanks to my lovely seat neighbor, Mauricio aka Mau).  As my hostel is only a short distance from the train station, I slow my pace and try to think non-touristy thoughts to no avail.

Oh, so many cobblestone streets. And look how old everything is! Everyone's dressed in black - how European.  That view of snow-covered rooftops gracing the surrounding hills is stunning.  I absolutely must snap a photo.  Oooh and a photo of this pedestrian area! How quaint! I wish there were more places like this in the United States. 

Before I know it, I'm outside the hostel, the City Backpacker.  According to the sign on the door, reception is still open until noon.  I take a deep breath in anticipation of what is to come, having been warned by countless reviews on hostelword.com. Four flights of stairs up to the reception desk, four flights of narrow winding cramped stairs with low entryways you have to beware.  After some huffing and puffing and sweating (I'm in complete winter gear here) I reach the top and want to plant an American flag like I've just climbed Mount Everest or landed on the Moon.  It's not just the fact that I've made it up the stairs with 42lbs on my back and at least 20lbs in my hands - it's that I'm here.  I'm in a hostel that I booked myself, that I reached myself, in a country that's miles upon miles from my home and I've made it.  And I'm celebrating a little victory in my head until I read the sign that's posted on the reception door.  CLOSED. For a second I'm praying that it's a false german cognate.  I read the rest of the sign.  Nope the "Come back later!" betrays the purposeful English.  I glance at my watch - it's 11:37am.  Did I mess up the time when I changed my watch on the plane? A second, more piercing glare at the doors confirms a negative answer to that question.  In small twelve point font a sheet of paper illuminates the frustrating predicament I'm in. It lists updated hours, and yes, the reception desk closes at 11am and will not open again until check in begins at three. I guess you really can't trust everything you read on the internet - or you know, anything posted on hostel front doors.

I will not let this get to me. A few pounds of luggage can't drag me down, right? Well, physically I suppose so but I'm talking mentally here.  I can still explore Zurich.  It's only 3 1/2 hours I have to kill. Scratch that - this isn't time to kill.  I'm on an adventure and I need to remember that.  This is time to enjoy!

I set off with no destination in mind and eyes wide open.  And this is what I see:

European character

Snow-covered rooftops. 

Limmat River

 Lake Zurich

Dusk settles in.

After over an hour of walking the streets of the city, snow flurries quietly announce their arrival. The snow in Zurich doesn't simply fall; it gracefully, whimsically and daintily skips, floats, and whirls until it slowly lands upon the ground.  I feel as if I've walked into a fairytale and it, in collaboration with some rousing adrenaline, transform me into a gently wandering awestruck traveler.  But then the wind picks up, hurling sharp, cold bits of ice into my face.  The flurries disappear and the snow picks up.  My breath is fogging up my glasses.  I can't see and my bags are starting to seriously wreak havoc on my back and arms. It's time to seek refuge.  I duck into the first coffee shop I see which happens to be a Starbucks (#classicamerican).  It must have been a desire for my daily dosage of overpriced caffeine that brought me here.  And oh boy, do I mean overpriced.  You really don't want to know how much my grande cup of plain ol' coffee is costing me. Or maybe you do? It doesn't really matter as I'm telling you anyway.  It costs 5CHF and change. That's $6.  SIX! I'm sorry but what?! I try to rationalize it to myself that the warmth and the place to rest are worth it.  After an hour and half of leisurely sipping my coffee and reading a book on my Kindle (definitely a smart pre-travel purchase), I can tell you that every single franc was most definitely worth it. Starbucks saved me! As 2:50 rolls around, I'm ready to rock, rejuvenated and rejoicing that the flurries have returned.

Checking into my hostel is easy as the receptionist speaks English which isn't a huge surprise.  I head to the dorm style room and gratefully shrug off my backpack with a humongous sigh of relief.  After making my bed, I promptly collapse on top of it.  For the next hour and a half, I try to nap but simply fitfully toss and turn instead - the caffeine taking its toll.  Eventually, it's the growling of my stomach that convinces me to groggily drag myself out of the warm bed.  After wandering around the old town of Zurich I realize that most everything is closed on Sundays in Switzerland except for a few cafes, some high end restaurants and bars none of which are the sorts of establishment I'm seeking.  I find myself standing outside my hostel once more and luckily, across the street, there is a small takeaway place and I see something I understand on the menu.  Quiche lorraine! Ah bless those few years of French I took in high school and my love of breakfast foods.  I take it back up to the kitchen in the hostel and settle in to eat my dinner.  I take a bite and am immediately revolted.  It's absolutely hands down the worst quiche I have ever tasted.  I guess the Swiss Germans really do like rejecting all ties to France.  I painstakingly finish it as I don't fancy wasting the nine francs I spent on it.  The last bite is the hardest but once I'm done I grab my laptop and head down to the single common room - the only place where I have access to the magic of Wifi.  I spend an hour or so chatting with my parents and friends.  Time seems to pass so quickly as I recount the mistakes I've already endured and the success I've achieved. After several yawns and the loud complaints of an aching stomach (I don't think that quiche is sitting too well with me), I decide to call it a night.  One blissfully hot shower later, I'm back in bed snuggled underneath a cozy wool blanket.  It doesn't take too long before I'm drifting off to sleep, my body finally crashing after all the travel.  In the morning, I'll be on my way to Sankt Gallen and I have no idea what's in store.  I've learned to accept the unknowns though and this thought no longer terrifies me.  Instead, I let go of any expectations and fall asleep feeling quite peaceful and grounded.  What will be, will be.  And if I have anything to say about it, it will be perfect - mistakes and successes in all.