Snowday in Switzerland

“Instead of wondering when your next vacation is, maybe you should set up a life you don’t need to escape from.” ~Seth Godin

Saturday April 20, 2013
Overnight, the rain turned to snow and by the time I woke up on Saturday, we were snowed in. I got up and went upstairs. Will and Cole were sitting on the coach playing video games. I didn’t see anyone else, so I went back down to my room. This weekend was the Boy Scout Conclave back home. My friend Bryan had sent me a link to watch a video of the opening show so I booted up my laptop to check it out.

“They got him!” Mary said. I turned to see her standing in my doorway with a basket of laundry.

“They got him?” I asked.

“Yep,” shortly after we went to bed last night, “they found him in this guy’s backyard hiding in a boat.”

We talked about it a bit and what an ordeal it had been.

“And now you get to see winter in the Swiss Alps,” she joked.

“It’s beautiful out there,” I said, looking out at the panorama out the bedroom window.

“When you’re ready,” she said, “and there’s no rush, how about you and I go on a little adventure.”

“That sounds great!” I said.

I took a shower, ate some cereal, and got my camera, and coat together. Mary got the keys from Dale and we headed out into the snow.

As we pulled out of the garage, Mary handed me a bag of trash to toss in the dumpster across the street. There was almost a foot of snow on top of the bin. It was a wet, heavy snow; the type that is great for making snowmen, but not so good for sledding or skiing (or trying open dumpsters.) I couldn’t budge the lid. Mary got out of the car and together, we pried it open.

We drove through the little town that Mary and Dale live in. The circuitous roads were narrow and cobblestoned, and the red faced clock towers were so incredibly beautiful.

Our first stop on the adventure was the recycling center. I’d been told the Europe is much better at recycling than America. After seeing this facility, I can see why. There is no such thing as single stream recycling; everything has to be sorted into metal, paper, plastic, etc. In Switzerland, trash bags cost money. Recycling however, is free.

Now the caveat to “free” is that you have to take your recycling to the recycling center (something that would never catch on in America.) There, you take it around to different bins depositing what you brought. There are containers for plastic bottles, metal hangers, newspapers, other paper, and even things like batteries, CDs, and VHS tapes. It was incredible to see how well organized and how resourceful the system is.

Driving out of town and up higher into the mountains, Mary pointed out a military base to me. Like NORAD, many of the military operations are built directly into hills and completely disguised. They are not fenced off or gated, rather, the road just appears to dead-end into the side of the hill. If you look, it’s clear there is a garage there, but there is no barrier or guard keeping traffic from driving right up to the entry point.

A little further up, we went to a large monastery. It was a massive building, with two large clock towers (each with a lavender clock face) and a very grand entryway. The building was so wide I couldn’t get a picture of it in one frame.

I really couldn’t get a picture at all because my camera batteries were once again, dead. Mary gave me her iPhone to hop out of the car and snap some photos.

“If you walk over to that tent,” she said pointing up by the building, “they sell all sorts of Jesus stuff.”

With the snow and cold wind, I decided to pass on Jesus stuff for today.

Getting back in the car, we took off for a bit of a longer drive. As we drove, we talked about our families, friends, and just life in general. Mary was so easy to talk to, with such a great perspective on living simply, being happy, and taking adventures.

Driving through the Swiss Alps was amazing! The views everywhere were awesome. From crystalline lakes to frosted trees, all surrounded and covered with drifting snow were beautiful. The crags and cliff sides  all around us were amazing. As we drove along, the snow began to soften and within minutes of it ceasing, blue sky burst through the clouds.

Mary pointed out a ski jump on the side of the road. From the top of the mountain, it rocketed down to the curled and abrupt ending at its mid-point. In my imagination, it really looked like you could jump the road going down it.

“Not sure about a ski jump,” I said, “but it might be a fun waterslide.”

Further on down the road, we saw something that neither of us were expecting (or had seen before.) There was a horse and buggy, just riding along in traffic as if it belonged there.

“That is unreal,” we both agreed. They clearly had no intention of moving out of the flow of traffic, so we decided to go around them.

Crossing over along bridge/dam that went through one of the lakes, we continued along the winding little mountain road. As we climbed, every view became more impressive than the last. We passed little farm houses with wooden fences around their property lines. We drove along dirt roads (that were a little muddy now) and saw ivory white fields leading up to sprawling mountain ranges.

“The farmers in the winter here actually use their property as ski resorts,” Mary said. “They will make hot cocoa and food in their house and sell tickets from there. They have those little lifts that you just hold on while it pulls you up the hill, and you just ski on their property.”

Eventually, we reached our destination. An actual ski lodge tucked away in a fog-filled valley. The blue sky was creeping through as we climbed out to take some photos. The entire little nook was just unreal. From the wood cabin, to the royal blue sky, and endless expanse of snow. It felt like something out of a fairy tale.

Even with the storm clearing, it was still freezing cold out. Getting back in the car, we started to drive home. Driving through the fields and over the bridge, we continued chatting about life. From talking about literature, to quoting world religions, we covered everything from hope to forgiveness and we philosophized our way through the Alps.

On our way home, we stopped at a Swiss brand grocery store called Coop. “Let’s just look for some fun brands and stuff to eat, and we’ll go home and eat ‘European’ food,” Mary said.

The grocery store layout was similar to Prague, in that the entrance and exit was not the same route, so you had to follow the maze to get out. Mary showed me how to weigh produce (something I’d heard about before I left the US, but not something I’d done yet) and pointed out a few fun brands.  There were certainly more American brands in this store than I’d seen in Prague. There were also a lot of French and Italian brands too.

Some of the more odd things we saw were in the deli. Horse steaks were available for purchase. There was also lunch meat made from veal. Wrapping through another aisle, we found ice tea made from cannabis leafs.

We did find lots of stuff to try. Mary already had a few favorite brands such as a particular Italian bread company and another lunchmeat (not veal) brand. We got some different types of yogurt and pudding. They had the Czech rice pudding brand and we got a few of those (rice pudding being one of Mary’s favorite desserts.)

Chocolate was where we spent a large amount of our time. Surprisingly, there weren’t a lot of German chocolate brands for sale. There was the standard Toblerone and Lindt chocolate, along with other Swiss brands. Milka was present, but there wasn’t a lot of other competition.

“You have to take some of this chocolate milk stuff back with you to Prague,” she said, picking up a box of a brand called Caotina. “I swear this is crack in it. It’s amazing!” We also got some different chocolate covered wafers and a few different cookies. I found the stroopwaffles from Amsterdam and we got some for Will and Cole to try.

Across Europe—I’ve seen this in Prague, Germany, and Spain—Ricola cough drops are sold as candy and not as medicine. We stocked up on a bunch of different flavors.

“It seems like I’ve had a perpetual tickle in my throat since I got to Europe,” I told Mary.

“Us too,” she said. “I think its cause our immune systems are still adapting. With all your travel, you’ll either go back to the US and never get sick again, or you’ll breed some super bug and spread it around to everyone.”

After we checked out, we loaded the car and headed back to the house. Mary made sandwiches with the Italian bread and lunch meat. It tasted great! The lunchmeat was like a spicy Italian sausage made from turkey. It was really fresh and tender.

On our first walk when I arrived in Switzerland, I’d mentioned that my next stop was Paris. Mary, Dale, and the kids had lived in Paris for a while and had already shared a ton of stories with me.

“Have you seen Midnight in Paris,” Mary asked me.

“I love that movie,” Will said.

“Me too,” Cole said.

“No, I haven’t,” I said.

“It’s a Woody Allen movie, with Owen Wilson, and it is awesome,” Mary said.

“Can we watch it Mom?” Will asked.

“Are you up for a snow day movie?” Mary asked.

“Absolutely,” I said.

We took our lunches down to the family room and crowded around the TV. The movie was really entertaining, and all throughout, Mary gave me suggestions of places to go see in Paris. Will and Cole are fluent in French and so they taught me some basic phrases (like “I don’t speak French” and “Please” and “Stupid American.”)

When we finished Midnight in Paris, Mary put on The Thomas Crown Affair.

“This is another one of our favorites,” she said.

While at first, I planned to get my laptop to work on some homework, I found it fascinating. By the time the movie ended, I was on the edge of my seat.

“Now, I don’t mean to sound like your Mom,” Mary said, “but I don’t want to send you back to Prague with dirty laundry. So why don’t you grab your clothes and we’ll get them washed.”

I couldn’t believe it! The idea of not having to do laundry right away when I got back to Prague sounded fantastic! I grabbed my clothes and met Mary in the basement. I got them sorted and started.

“This will be the first time my clothes come out of the wash cleaner than when I put them in,” I said, relaying stories of the laundry facilities in the dorms—as well as my frustration of not having a dryer.

Back in my room, I started journaling. I started thinking, it’s funny how much I’ve blocked out life in America. I don’t want to use the word “forgotten” because I haven’t forgotten anything. It’s more of a feeling like I’ve been gone for years. Remembering life before I came over to Prague feels like I’m recalling a dream I had once years ago. The details are still vivid, but they don’t spend as much time in my active memory.

In all honesty, going back home kind of scares me now. I’ve gotten used to this life and in many ways, I like it…a lot! It’s fun going on adventures and being in a different country every 72 hours. It’s fun pushing myself and seeing what I can do. It’s fun relying on myself and meeting new people everywhere I go. In some ways, I don’t think I want to go back.

But at the same time, I miss people like crazy. There is not much I wouldn’t do to have my parents and close friends here with me right now. If they could come on the adventure with me, that would be perfect.

But I think these thoughts and feelings are probably a fairly common part of life. Going on vacation is always more fun that living in routine. I honestly don’t believe the purpose of life is to work. Keiko and I had a conversation about this one time, and I wish I could remember the details better. I think too many people get caught in the rut of routine, and sometimes (I was certainly guilty of this three months ago) the idea of leaving that routine is terrifying. At the end of the day, I think routine is comfortable, but I don’t think it is fulfilling.

At the same time, I don’t think the purpose of life is to always be on the go. While jumping from city to city and living every day at 100mph is exhilarating, there is also something to be said for being surrounded by people you care about and do things that matter to you.

I think the goal is to figure out how to have adventures every day, no matter where we are. That could be walking through the streets downtown. It could be taking a drive through the mountains. It could be ordering something new off the menu. It could be starting a conversation with a stranger.

Every day is an adventure…I think that is the purpose of life.