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3/30/2011 Adam’s Birthday

Well, it’s been a while since my last entry, but can you blame me? I’m in Europe… So let’s bring it back to where I left off. Everyone was exhausted after London, and I was still sick, but Wednesday brought a nice, relaxing day that allowed for much rejuvenation. While Adam spent some hours showing Junya around Leysin village, my mom and I devoted the same time to her apartment building’s own spa. We talked nonstop about everything while sitting in steam rooms, saunas and hot tubs. Then, after hot showers in the spa’s enclosed rock-cave-showers, we got dressed and met back up with Adam and Junya. We ate dinner at the school in one of the dining rooms – Sitio – then showed Junya around the school. We introduced him to many friends, even some who spoke a few words of Japanese with him, then went home to watch movies before going to bed.

Of course, one of the most important experiences that a newbie should have upon entering Switzerland for their first time is eating real Swiss fondue. So when Thursday rolled around, we were quick to haul Junya up to Prafandaz for a hot, fresh bowl. Of course it was amazing, but once again, the salty cheese made me unbearably thirsty. When I began eating snow, having forgotten my previous pain beneath the pain of my nagging thirst, Adam and my mom told me to go ahead and that I would be sorry. This was only a few seconds before Adam started to knock it out of my hand like before. (Surprisingly and fortunately, I wasn’t sick that night.)

The rest of the day we spent playing in the snow and around the village. Near the Prafandaz restaurant, we found two large igloos which had not been there before, and spent a few minutes “chilling” inside the icy enclosures. Then, walking over towards one particularly large cliff, we found a sizable rock with writing engraved on it – a memorial for two kids who had fallen down the mountain and died during a drunken party. One of them was an American and the other was Muslim. The plaque also showed that the American’s birthday was September 11. Now… I’m going to try really hard not to make a morbid joke about this irony…

On the way down the mountain (the proper way), we found about a dozen wooden sculptures lining the road, all representing different animals, and all of them attached to tree trunks still embedded in the ground. Apparently, the sculptor responsible is fairly famous in the area, and is known to walk around different villages in Switzerland, carving tree stumps into interesting shapes. I personally find this amazing, and was particularly fascinated with one bear-shaped carving. The bear stood in a way that appeared as though he was holding himself in a special area, almost as if he were taking a wiz. Of course, we didn’t pass up the singular photo op.

The latter part of Friday proved pleasant yet eventful. A bar called “Top Pub” not far from SHMS hosted a rare sushi night, where students from the school served sushi to customers in a fund-raising event. Of course, the funds were sent to Japan in light of the recent Earthquake. Needless to say, my group and I ordered tons of sushi, miso soup, and drinks.

After that, we headed back to the school and arrived in one of the dining rooms where a group of students was waiting for us. This small handful of students – a group my mom had arranged through email – were kids that either wanted to work on English skills, wanted something fun to do on a Friday night, or simply wanted to make friends. We brought the entire group sushi from Top Pub and spent a few hours playing games. Among many were “Bullshit” (the infamous American card game), “Big Two” (a fun Chinese card game we learned), and “Rhythm Four” (a Japanese reflex game). Everyone had a lot of fun and it was incredibly interesting to learn games from different nations. I left that night with a ton of fun new games under my belt as well as a ton of fun new friends.

On Saturday morning, my mom, Adam, Junya and I woke up at an ungodly hour, then met a large group of people standing by a van outside. This group, made up of many friends young and old, would be accompanying us on a long hiking journey in the Alps near a village called Evolene. On our two-hour ride to the tip-tops of the snowy mountains, we stopped several times. Once, we stopped on the side of the road to take pictures of the “Swiss Pyramids,” huge, cone-like structures that have formed over hundreds of years due to wind and water erosion. Then, we stopped again in the small village of Evolene to look around. This place was positively ancient. All of the structures were wooden and looked to be centuries old. Upon asking Michel, our supposed “guide” on this little field trip, the gray-haired man told us the ages of some of the most dilapidated buildings surrounding us. Many of them were in fact, hundreds of years old.

“1465,” he casually spouted off for one particularly creaky-looking church.

Our group of ten walked around the village, looking inside little shops and stopping in a cozy pub for warm drinks before jumping back in the van. Then we drove for another twenty minutes before the road literally ended, and all of us were forced to continue on foot up the now much narrower path. As we climbed, more and more snow surrounded us until the ground was completely white and the cold air began to make our cheeks rosy. Then, after fifteen more minutes or so, we could no longer trudge through the deep snow, so all ten of us stopped to put on our snowshoes at last. Endless thudding sounds filled the air, our snowshoes slapping the snow beneath our feet, as we climbed the mountain higher yet. On the way up, Adam, Junya and I found a huge, flat field, so we decided to lag behind the group and play in the deep snow. Taking off our snow shoes, we leapt out into pure whiteness, almost up to our waists in the stuff. I made a few of the tallest snow-angels ever seen, carried out a good snowball fight with the boys, and of course, ate handfuls of the soft, fresh, powdery snow. (I heard a few times during the journey that you’re not supposed to do this, but you can see how much of a flying fuck I gave.)

Our journey continued until we met back up with our group near a small, abandoned cabin. We all used the short break to share cheese, bread, fruit, Easter eggs, wine, sausage and chocolate. Then, it was back to hiking. We took a different route back down the mountain, happening across a long, wide tunnel – the first real ice cave I’ve ever seen. Huge ice stalagmites and stalactites stretched from the slippery frozen floor to the high ceilings of the cave. We took pictures, navigated out of the cave, and found our van again an hour later.

On the ride back to Leysin village, we stopped at St. Bernard Pass, home of the St. Bernard dogs (think Beethoven), situated between Italy and the Swiss Alps. Here, we visited a museum commemorating the St. Bernard dogs that have been made famous in this part of Switzerland. The museum contained many singular sights including live St. Bernard dogs—huge, monstrous beasts that wouldn’t hurt a fly. (These dogs are actually quite amazing. They are currently used as rescue dogs in Switzerland. This is another really interesting topic to research on Wikipedia.)

We arrived back in Leysin in the evening just in time for huge, delicious burgers at Lynx, a small pub situated a stone’s throw from SHMS. Exhausted from the hike and full from our dinner, we passed out early and woke the next day to celebrate Adam’s birthday.

Sunday, March 13^th was not Adam’s actual birthday, but we decided to take advantage of this particular Sunday due to certain convenient circumstances—Leysin’s own tobogganing park was open for one last day before closing for the season. Now, if you’ve never heard of tobogganing, you might need to use Google or Youtube just to get an idea of what the heck I’m talking about. Tobogganing is a seriously fun activity involving human-sized inner tubes, which are designed to serve as super-fast sleds. Inside the park, each person gets their own tube and is sent flying down huge, steep slides that are carved completely out of ice. As we spent hours riding the slippery slides, we also noticed a new slide which hadn’t been here during my last Swiss visit: one that sends you hauling ass down a steep-as-hell slide, then ends with a huge ramp. Waiting on the ground below is a giant airbag, which is meant to catch you after you are sent flying weightlessly through the air for a good four or five seconds.

Of course, my mom, Adam, Junya and I paid the extra money to use this beast. And of course, the experience was nothing short of exhilarating. I hauled ass down the huge slide in my inner tube, shot off the end of the ramp, then went soaring through the air. When gravity kicked in, I fell gently onto the giant airbag, barely even feeling a collision. After regaining motor skills and removing myself from the airbag, I stood aside to watch all three of my counterparts come flying down after me. Junya, Adam, then my Mom all went soaring through the air on their inner tubes, looking like ragdolls as they finally hit the airbag below. I think we got most of these episodes on video, so I shall be posting them to Facebook soon. Don’t miss it.

After a few more hours of tobogganing, it was birthday dinner time. And conveniently enough, there happens to be a wonderful restaurant situated right next to the park: a restaurant made entirely of ice. “Village de Neige,” a considerably large restaurant, serves fondue and other Swiss lovelies, but we had to keep our mittens on despite the hot food. The restaurant’s ceilings, walls, floor, bar, and even some of the furniture is made of ice. This is excluding seating, of course, which is mostly wood covered with large deer furs. (However, the Swiss are very humane in their use of these furs, and only take from the animals after they have naturally died. I find this acceptable.) Inside the huge snow-world, we ate fondue and drank hot tea, then spent some time walking around and ogling the place. One particularly awesome table we found was made entirely of ice and small cylinders of chopped-up wood.

Although Sunday was decidedly lovely, Adam’s actual birthday wasn’t too bad either. While my mom taught classes over at SHMS, Adam, Junya and I headed down to the spa, which was completely empty. We spent some time sitting in the hot tub, then hanging out in the steam room, my favorite part of the complex’s spa. The steam room is fairly gorgeous, made completely of iridescent stones and with a ceiling covered in hundreds of tiny, color-changing lights that look like stars in a night sky. It’s seriously awesome, so please know I’m being serious when I say I could spend hours inside that steam room.

After wasting away almost an entire day in the spa, we showered, dressed, then met my mom in the school’s dining room for dinner. For the rest of the night, we chilled and played games, discussing the final birthday celebration to come…

Tuesday proved even more relaxing, as I spent nearly the whole day reading in my mom’s room, curled up in the soft duvet of her bed with the curtains of the nearby windows splayed wide to reveal the gorgeous snow-capped Alps. While I read one of my new favorite books, “The Power” by Rhonda Byrne, the boys left me to go shopping. They brought back numerous goodies which we munched on together as we watched movies and played games. Later that night, we ate dinner, I took a hot bath, then we fell asleep in the early morning.

We slept in late on Wednesday. Adam, Junya and I prepared our own late lunch at around noon, spent some time chilling in the room, then dressed ourselves in formal suits. It was six PM when we met my mom, the Greek man Kostos, and our Chinese friend, Kai, outside SHMS’s French restaurant for dinner. The meal was excellent, the service was grand, and all six of us left that evening with over-packed bellies.

The next day, my mom got out of class at around noon, so I pounced on the opportunity to get her to help me do some editing for my book. We spent several hours red-penning two identical manuscripts while Adam and Junya did their own thing. However, my mom and I also used this opportunity to prepare for Adam’s birthday party, which was one day away.

I woke up on Friday morning and immediately met my mom outside at a designated location. Surrounding her were countless bags full of red things: shirts, streamers, balloons, flags, and a number of other decorative items intended to carry out Adam’s Swiss-themed 21^st birthday party. We let ourselves into Daniel’s apartment, the location where the party would be taking place, then began decorating avidly while drinking glass after glass of wine. Before long, both my mother and I were rather tipsy, and continued our decorating process with new drunken vigor, wobbly legs and a lot of spilled wine. Our spastic, uncontrollable laughter at said spills did not move the operation forward.

However, surprisingly, we got the job done long before go-time, and even had several spare hours to devote to an early dinner in the school’s dining room. The Mexican food we ate sobered us up substantially, and by 8 PM, my mom, Adam, Junya and a number of other buddies joined up with us and began heading down to Daniel’s apartment.

Adam’s party was crazy and a blast. When we arrived inside the hugely decorated apartment, my mom began tossing bright-red Swiss shirts to everyone in the room, and it wasn’t long before the drinking began. We played countless international drinking games while Sashi, SHMS’s own bartender, mixed up drinks for the group. Ali, another friend who happens to be a music-enthusiast, served as the party’s DJ, and hooked us up with awesome techno tunes the whole night through. Also unexpectedly, our Taiwanese friend, Jason, brought his huge, expensive-looking camera along for the ride (I have no idea what kind of camera it is, but it looks like a beast). Jason took 500 pictures over the course of the night. At the party, everyone dipped bread into steaming pots of cheese fondue, strawberries into chocolate fondue, and shot-glasses into the huge bowl of punch Sashi had concocted. Before long, the entire guest-list was stumbling, and we all sang a very slurred version of Happy Birthday before Adam blew out the candle on his hedgehog cake. (Yes, hedgehogs are within the Swiss theme. Use Wikipedia.) The majority of the party guests had cleared out by about 4 AM, but when there were only a few of us left, Jason whipped out some nice cigars and began taking more pictures. Even these quiet ending moments of the party were exceptionally nice, and now I have countless pictures to remind me of this once-in-a-lifetime event. Adam also expressed his utmost pleasure at the turnout of his 21^st birthday.

Well, I’ve already written quite a bit, so I’ll fill in the rest of the gaps later. Hope you enjoyed my latest blog, and sincerely hope you’re looking forward to the next one. Au revoir, mes amis…

3/10/2011 London

I woke up on Thursday morning excited and ready. With bags packed up and bellies full of eggs and hash browns, Adam and I boarded the train to Geneva Airport at around 11 AM. But it wasn’t long before my eager enthusiasm would morph into a suffocating dread; at the stop right after Leysin, a family of five boarded the train, and one of them, a two or three-year-old kid, was covered in mucous, drool and lime-green crusty snot. Of course, the family sat down right next to us, and I was privileged enough to hear the child’s wet sniffling and hoarse coughing all the way until the Aigle city stop. Cringing in disgust, I couldn’t help but feel like a cloud of germs and crawling bacteria surrounded me. Please don’t let me get sick. Please don’t let me get sick. I want to enjoy London. Please, for the love of god, don’t let this little twerp get me sick… As Adam and I finally switched trains in Aigle, I couldn’t haul ass away from that snot-nosed kid fast enough. Yes, I am a germophobe and no, I don’t like kids.

I largely forgot about the brat by the time we reached Geneva Airport, and managed to thoroughly enjoy my short flight to London. And when we finally reached Luton Airport, a delightful sight was waiting for us outside of the terminal: Junya Hirose! Junya, who we also call Jun, is my Japanese penpal that I met on Penpalworld.com about a year ago. He stayed in my home in Sarasota for a month last year, and he’s been part of our family ever since. (I highly recommend penpal websites if you want to make useful international connections!) Anyway, Junya was waiting for us in the airport, as he had been touring the UK for the past few weeks. Amidst our joyous celebration of being reunited, Adam, Junya and I boarded a shuttle to the train station, where we gave Junya a present: a Swiss chocolate bar and a red beanie bearing the Swiss flag and “Switzerland” across the top. It looked very cute on him.

We waited only a short time before our train to central London arrived at the station. When it pulled up and came to a halt, the three of us scrambled to our feet, quickly hauling luggage over to the train. I boarded first, somehow managing to wrestle my heavy suitcase up with me—just before the train doors abruptly shut an inch from Adam’s face. Adam and Junya still on the platform, I stared at them wide-eyed through the glass window of the train doors, both of them looking completely stunned. Dumbly pressing the “open” button over and over, I watched as Adam and Junya struggled to pry the doors back open, but neither attempt reaped desirable results. The doors remained firmly shut as I was abruptly whisked away on the speedy train, Adam holding my passport, wallet, phone and train ticket. What. The. Fuck. Still in shock, I stood by the doors as the train sped along, then I slowly turned around to where the other passengers were sitting. All of them were staring at me awkwardly. Turning back around, I decided to stay where I was. And then I began laughing uncontrollably.

I won’t lie: I was a bit unsettled. Here I am, an American in the UK—a place I’ve never been before, and much less know how to navigate—and I’ve been completely separated from my money, passport, phone and train ticket. However, I probably would have been much more scared had I not clearly read Adam’s lips just before being carried off into oblivion: “Get off at the next stop.” Thus, I laughed uncontrollably. At the next stop, I did as Adam had instructed and exited the train. And, to my relief, Adam and Junya appeared ten minutes later. We laughed nonstop for fifteen minutes. As it turns out, a friendly British woman on the previous platform had witnessed my kidnapping, and instructed Adam and Junya on what to do. “The next train should stop at the same place. But it’s a small station, so it doesn’t always stop there. But hopefully, it will…” When Adam told me what she had said, I realized I could have been seriously screwed, but we all kept a good attitude about it, and now I have a pretty funny story to tell.

My spirits were further lifted when the three of us reached the London underground for the first time. Also commonly referred to as, “The Tube,” the London underground is the preferred means of transportation around the big city. And when we entered the busy station that night, I immediately saw signs pointing towards the King’s Cross Station. Instantly overcome with a strong bout of Harry Potter nerdism, I took pictures of the station, as well as of platform 9. Unfortunately, the Platform 9 and ¾ tourist attraction was under construction, so I figured this would suffice.

When it was time for us to board the Tube to the location of our youth hostel, Adam decided to ask a worker for advice on how to purchase an Oyster card. (These are helpful cards you can use for the Tube so that you don’t have to buy a ticket every time.) After being asked for help, the man’s first question was, “Where are you traveling from?” Obviously confused, Adam looked at me, then back at the man. “We’re traveling from… the United States?” Suddenly, the man adopted an expression that looked as though he had smelled an ass. “You’re a funny guy,” he said, still cringing. “What station did you come from?” “Oh,” said Adam. “Luton Airport.” The man nodded. “Go right up there and ask my colleague for an Oyster Card. And next time, don’t be a smartass, eh Mate?” “Sorry…”

New Oyster cards in hand, Adam and I laughed at the man’s rudeness. “I guess Brits really do hate Americans.” But as we began navigating London, I quickly went back on this notion. Everywhere we went, poring over maps and GPSs, friendly British people offered to help us without even being asked. This was after clearly hearing our American accents or being told where we were from. I no longer think everyone hates us. I suppose it just depends on the person.

We arrived at our youth hostel within a matter of minutes. It was small, dirty, and the moment we entered our room, one of our new roommates, a boy from Spain, offered us drugs. We politely declined his “Hachis” (sp?) but thanked him for the offer and resorted to simply smelling the brown substance. It was incredibly pungent and within minutes, Juan the Spaniard was tripping balls. The Spanish boy spoke to us almost completely in Spanish (which I cannot understand or speak in the slightest) but he was very friendly. Somehow, through the few English words he did speak, I managed to piece together that the four empty beds in the room belonged to a group of Danish teenagers.

After dropping off our luggage in the hostel, Adam, Junya and I did a bit of walking around downtown London. Tons of souvenir shops, cafés, pubs and restaurants were everywhere, and Junya showed us one particularly amazing store: Tesco. Inside, there were countless various wares, including snacks and other groceries for incredibly cheap prices. Among others, we purchased a bag of cookies for thirty pence (cents), a large bottle of shampoo for ten pence, and a large tube of toothpaste for seventeen pence. For less than five pounds, we completely loaded up on toiletries, yummy snacks and drinks.

After leaving Tesco, we went back to the youth hostel to play Japanese card games before passing out. But only a few hours later, the teenagers from Denmark arrived. Loudly. All four of them exploded into the room, obviously smashed, laughing hysterically, stumbling around and knocking things over. Exhausted, I groaned as the four of them spoke loudly in Danish, making absolutely no effort to keep from waking us. Over the course of an hour, I listened incredulously as they settled themselves in. One particularly drunk Danish girl was escorted into the bathroom where I heard loud retching noises for fifteen minutes. Then, after exiting the bathroom, the girl fell flat on the floor to much harsh Danish and additional laughing. When the girl was dragged to her feet again, the other three Danes apparently determined that it was a good idea to put her on the top bunk instead of the bottom. With much coaxing and shoving, the floppy, deadweight girl was finally hoisted onto the bunk bed. The other three found their own beds, and the laughing and loud, drunken Danish continued for another half-hour. It was around 5 in the morning when I fell back to sleep.

At 8 AM, the Danes were at it again. Somehow, miraculously, the four of them were awake at this hour after an obviously crazy night and only a few hours of sleep. As soon as the first bout of explosive laughter jolted me from my sleep, I instantly realized I was sick. Fuck germy Swiss kids and fuck the Danish.

For the sake of my health, and because checkout was at 10, I knew I should get more sleep, but realized this was impossible. The Danes insisted on being obnoxiously hysterical and loud, so I decided to pry myself out of bed. Adam, Junya and I said farewell to Juan the Spaniard, then packed up and left. I couldn’t haul ass away from that youth hostel fast enough.

After ordering breakfast at Subway for two pounds each, we made our way towards Hyde Park, which was right down the street from us. Despite coughing and hacking all the way, I told myself I was not going to let snot-nose brats or crazy teens from Denmark ruin my time in London. So I pushed myself, and we arrived in Hyde Park where we ate our Subway breakfast and took a few nice pictures of the scenery. I made sure to get one particular picture of myself “Hyding” behind a tree in Hyde Park.

The next question that came up was a new place to stay. Because all of us were dead-tired and experiencing a thick resentment towards Denmark, we mutually decided against another youth hostel. We needed an actual hotel where the three of us could share our own private room. After a bit of searching using the wifi at a Burger King, we found our next place: a nice hotel nearby with only one, large bed, but no drugs, no bugs, and no loud Danish sons of bitches. We hastily checked in, dropped off our luggage, and continued our tour of London.

After taking the Tube to the Tower Hill stop, we saw the Tower of London, Tower Bridge, and the London City Wall, which has survived from the year AD 200. The Tower of London was also impressive, looking like a medieval palace as it dwarfed its surroundings. Tower Bridge was exceptional as well, to say the least. The common misconception is that Tower Bridge is actually London Bridge, but it’s not. Tower Bridge is much bigger and more beautiful and from what I hear, the real London Bridge is nothing special. However, seeing Tower Bridge was an inspiring and awesome experience.

After viewing these beauties, Adam, Junya and I decided it was time for some dinner. A nice, big pub right beside Tower Bridge served us fish and chips, which was to die for. After finishing, we left and waited beside the London City Wall for our Jack the Ripper tour guide to arrive.

The Jack the Ripper walking tour was disturbing to say the least. If you really want to know about this sick bastard, just use Wikipedia, but I really don’t want to repeat what I heard that night in my blog. It was wild, and honestly, I walked away from that experience knowing I was going to endure another sleepless night, which turned out to be true. We walked down dark alleyways and passed by old buildings where some of the most horrific crimes of all time occurred. I even stood by the very spot on which Jack the Ripper had torn open his fourth victim. Dotted throughout our tour guide’s graphic and chilling storytelling, he showed us autopsy pictures and proposed speculations about Jack the Ripper’s identity, since this was never confirmed. But we were shown a few unrelated sites as we trekked around London, including the school that Charles Dickens attended as well as the street used for Diagon Alley in the Harry Potter films. Needless to say, I was delighted.

After the tour, Adam, Junya and I made our way to Tesco where we loaded up on cheap snacks yet again. Once back at the hotel, we watched a hilarious British show on the Dave channel called “Mock the Week,” but by the time we turned out the lights, morbid images were once again dancing in my head. I didn’t fall asleep until the sun was up. After getting a few hours of sleep, I was woken Saturday morning for checkout. Now, I realized I was deathly ill. I felt absolutely awful. Barely able to lift my head, I was helped out of bed by Adam and somehow, I managed to shower and dress myself. My nose was a faucet, so I crammed my pockets full of tissue before we left. By this time, I’m sure you can imagine how affectionate I was feeling towards snot-nose brats, the Danish, and good ol’ Jack the Ripper.

First thing that morning, we booked our next hotel. Upon my urgent insisting, we booked for three nights, the remainder of our stay, so that sick Katie could actually sleep in if she needed to. So after dropping off our baggage for the last time, and purchasing some sixty-pence flu medicine at Tesco, Adam, Junya and I began our journey towards Abbey Road. (If you are unaware of the importance of this famous street, once again, I suggest you use Wikipedia.) By the time we reached Abbey Road, my medicine had started to kick in and I began to feel much better. We took pictures of the street sign, Abbey Studios, an actual abbey on Abbey Road, and, of course, the road itself. When we found the zebra crossing that the Beatles used for the cover of their album in 1969, we saw hoards of people running back and forth across the street, attempting to duplicate the famous photo. Because Abbey Road is such a busy street, local Brits honked in annoyance as dozens of tourists took their time, dancing across Abbey Road for the photo op. Of course, Adam, Junya and I joined in, getting a few decent shots of our own to much additional honking.

After Abbey Road, the three of us took our first huge, red double-decker bus towards the underground where we purchased a dozen Krispy Kreme donuts. I also used a pay-toilet for the first time in my life. After relieving myself, we boarded the Tube and ate our donuts all the way to the Tate Modern, one of the UK’s most famous art museums. Inside, we viewed paintings and sculptures by Picasso, Braque, Matisse, Monet, Warhol, and others. (If you don’t know whom all of these artists are, please kindly go back in time and give your mother an abortion. Thank you.) A huge art enthusiast, I marveled at the creations around me, spellbound. I could not believe I was looking at the art of some of the most famous artists of all time. Other interesting exhibits also surrounded us. One enormous room was filled completely with real propaganda posters from the Soviet Union.

The Tate Modern really blew my hair back, but right outside the enormous museum waited yet another delightful surprise: the Millennium Bridge. Once again, my Harry Potter nerd senses began tingling. This huge, beautiful bridge was used in The Half-Blood Prince, and was thoroughly destroyed by the Death Eaters during one particular scene. However, the completely intact bridge that stood before us looked safe enough, although Adam admitted to a slight fear of heights. I took pictures anyway, and had to whip out my camera yet again by the time we reached the other side of the Thames River. St. Paul’s Cathedral towered above us, looking too huge to be real. I was almost stunned as I gazed up at the thing, wondering dumbly how long it must have taken to build such a structure back in the day.

Before going home on Saturday night, we stopped at a Mexican restaurant where I enjoyed soup, Junya ate stuffed peppers, and Adam gorged on a southwestern burger packed with sour cream, guacamole, salsa, and cheese. Finally, we journeyed back to our hotel where I passed out instantly and relished my first night of deep, unbroken sleep.

In fact, I woke up Sunday morning slightly upset with myself for having slept in so late. It was noon when I finally started to shower and dress. However, I still felt immensely sick and only wondered how much worse I would have felt with a third night of rough sleep. So after leaving the hotel at about 1 PM, we all ate our first meal of the day and began the search for a hair salon. I decided on a place that offered a shampoo and cut for only twenty pounds. However, it was the fact that the barber was gay that truly made up my mind. As the gay man from Iran chopped off inches at a time, he lamented to me about his boy problems, and I offered advice. After he finished, I thanked him, wished him good luck, and went on my way, delighted with my new and much more manageable hairstyle.

And so, the sightseeing continued. In one evening, we viewed Kensington Palace, Queen’s Gate, Albert’s Memorial, Albert Hall, and the Princess Diana Memorial Fountains. Then, after a quick dinner in a healthy restaurant called “Pret a Manger,” we viewed Marble Arch, Buckingham Palace, Wellington Arch, West Minster Abbey, Big Ben, the Houses of Parliament, the London Eye, County Hall, the Monument to the Great Fire of London, and the 30 St. Mary Axe Tower. I took pictures of everything.

It was incredibly late by the time we boarded the Tube home, but, viewing a few particularly horrible British fashion statements, I decided to take some discreet pictures. It’s pretty funny to be in a city where literally everywhere you go, you see people who appear to be making a deliberate attempt to look tacky, mismatched and outdated. I seriously do wonder if these people dress themselves in the morning, stand in front of the mirror and say, “Oh yeah, that looks hot.” The British honestly need some help.

On Monday morning, we woke up early and immediately headed out for breakfast. After more healthy snacks at Pret a Manger, we journeyed towards the London Zoo. The first stop was, of course, the reptile house. And, as promised, I took pictures of myself speaking parseltongue to the black mambas housed inside the famous Harry Potter exhibit. They smiled and said good-bye, then Adam, Junya and I left to view the rest of London Zoo.

London Zoo, the oldest zoo in the world, is also responsible for the first aquarium, and for actually coining the term. Inside, we saw gorillas, other monkeys, bearded pigs, birds, hippos, camels and penguins. Then, we found ourselves inside the petting zoo area where we met some lamas, hogs, goats, sheep, turkeys, donkeys and chickens. We also found a small statue and a plaque that explained the origins of Winnie the Pooh. The story was quite heartwarming. We saw many other animals before the day was over, and by the time we left, we were all ready for more food.

Pizza hut treated us well with their cheesy-bites pizza crust and hot cookie dough dessert. Then, we began walking around downtown London in search of souvenirs. We purchased numerous gifts and postcards for family and friends, as well as some wearable London paraphernalia for ourselves. I managed to haggle an Indian man down from fourteen pounds to a mere eight for a really nice London jacket.

Tuesday was the day of our flight back to Switzerland. Adam, Junya and I woke early and packed up our belongings, headed to the post office to drop off a few postcards, and then, I began bidding farewell to the UK. Looking around at the busy, bustling London city, I mentally promised it that I would return. Call me insane, but I love London!

We rode a bus to the airport, flew for an hour and a half, then arrived in Switzerland where my mom greeted us merrily. Once again, her home was filled with welcoming decorations and gifts, and she and Junya shared happy celebrations in light of their reunion. Now we’re back with one more country under our belts.

To say the least, London was awesome. Everywhere I turned, I saw monuments, statues, buildings and other remnants of rich history. Despite my previous fears, the Brits were charming and friendly, even though they hadn’t the slightest clue how to dress. (I didn’t hold it against them.) True, London was cold, much colder than the Swiss Alps, but my surroundings usually took my mind off the pain of my frozen face. True, I was ill, but my surroundings usually took my mind off the annoyance of my running nose and my sore throat. True, I now hate Swiss kids, Denmark and a certain serial killer from the 1800s, but London was nothing short of amazing. Hope you enjoyed the longest blog of all! Cheers!

2/28/2011 London, Here We Come

We found a way to make the London trip work out, but we won’t be traveling with the Indian family. As it happens, our time frames didn’t mesh. Because Adam and I wanted to spend a little extra time roaming around Great Britain, we decided to buy our EasyJet plane tickets and book our own rooms for March 3 – 8. That will give us plenty of time to see everything and now, finally, I’m going to the UK!

Although I’ve been to Europe several times, I’ve only ever been inside the London airport. I never got the chance run around and sightsee, but have always wanted to for many reasons. Probably the biggest one is the fact that the Harry Potter series was filmed there, and I’ve heard about several specific filming sites that are open for public viewing. The London Zoo, for example, hosts a plaque commemorating Dan Radcliffe’s snake scene in Sorcerer’s Stone. If you know how obsessed I am with Harry Potter, you won’t be surprised to see pictures of me attempting to speak parseltongue with the Black Mamba that now resides in that very same enclosure. Also, a Scottish guy that I recently met informed me that a significant part of Deathly Hallows was filmed near his home. There are many other reasons why I am desperate to see the UK, but I’ll try not to give away too many of them here, seeing as I have a long list of things that I want to do and am still unsure as to which ones will actually come to pass…

In light of the new development of this impending trip to London, there has been much celebration, and of course, much snow. To me, it seems that Switzerland just desperately wants to be white. That’s perfectly fine. I never really did feel like a true Florida girl, to be honest. But trudging through this white stuff in my boots and ski pants feels pretty real to me. It’s so great to wake up in the morning and look out the window to see a fresh pile of snow on the balcony. Lately, we’ve used it to keep a certain snowman erected on the picnic table outside, whom watches us through the window day by day. Because of fluctuating temperatures, the snowman always looks slightly different than the day before, as he is constantly being rebuilt. However, he always maintains the same eyes, nose, mouth, earmuffs, hat, buttons, arms and scarf. He just wears them a bit differently, that’s all. This little guy has truly become a part of our family and we really love being greeted by his wide grin and bright green eyes peering at us through the window every time we come home. His name is Peppersworth, and no, I don’t know why.

Of course, we’ve been building snowmen left and right, but we’ve also been engaged in many other fun things. Thursday, my mom, Adam and I took a cab up to the top of the mountain to a place called “Prafandaz.” The ride itself was entertaining. As our Swiss driver attempted to mow through the snow, he got stuck several times and had to back up, cursing loudly in French all the while. After a few tries, and a few popped blood vessels, he eventually got us to our destination. Way up at Prafandaz, there’s a ton of snow and an awesome outdoor restaurant. The beer fondue lunch we ate might have been the most delectable thing I’ve ever tasted. To drink, we had an unusual beverage called “Vin Chaud,” which means “hot wine” in French. It was nice, but not really thirst quenching. And consequently, I was instantly thirsty after finishing my drink. This was a big problem for one big reason: drinking anything with fondue that is not either hot or alcoholic will cause digestion problems. Well, so said my mother. I don’t really know if I believed her or not—I think it had more to do with the fact that I just didn’t care. I was unbearably thirsty and did not want anymore Vin Chaud—I wanted cold water. But my mom adamantly insisted I not drink any, even as I rebelliously began eating handfuls of snow to quench my thirst. Adam attempted to knock it out of my hand every time I tried, but as we descended the mountain on foot after lunch, I managed to sneak in a few big mouthfuls of fresh, sparkling snow. My thirst was instantly quenched, but I later regretted having not listened to my wise mother—I wound up on the shitter for a good hour that night.

Friday night was a much better night. Bowels relieved, I got some homework done and rebuilt Peppersworth before Adam and I headed to SHMS’s very own nightclub. Yes, there is a nightclub inside of the school. And yes, they were giving out free banana vodka shots from 10 to midnight. Needless to say, I was outside the club doors at 10 sharp. When the bouncers asked for Adam and my student IDs, I name-dropped, “Kathryn Medico,” and we were let inside at once. The shots were delicious, and no, I don’t know how many of them I had. All I know is that the booming techno music was killer, and I drunkenly watched as a group of Asians dance-battled on the floor amidst smoke and flashing lights. We had a great time, and I must thank my good friend Sashi for being my faithful bartender that night. After Club Maxx, we headed to a pub up the road called “Yeti.” My mom and the Greek man, Kostos, were there, already smashed. We also met a Brit named Adam while at Yeti. As we all continued to drink, I dolefully asked him if Brits really hate Americans as much as I hear they do, or if I will be abused at all while in London. British Adam sadly informed me that everyone hates Americans and I should just get used to the abuse. This was in spite of the fact that the British man telling me all of this was being incredibly nice to Adam and me, and seemed to like us, even though we were American. Thoroughly baffled, I took another swig of beer.

Saturday found us on the noon train to Montreux, Switzerland, a neighboring city with lots of shopping and scenery. Walking along Lake Geneva is always such a surreal experience. The calm, sparkling water rests below the majestic Alp mountain range, reflecting the snow-capped peaks. Many strange-looking ducks with funky hairdos swim around in the water, begging for bits of bread from random passersby. Sweet-smelling, colorful flowers line the walkway even in the dead of winter. Also, tons of interesting statues and gardens are everywhere, housing numerous shrubs sculpted into different animal figures. Montreux is so peaceful and serene, and people come here just to take a stroll or walk their dogs. Everywhere you turn is a unique breed of dog. Even inside the shopping mall and restaurants, tons of doggies big and small can be seen gazing up at you. It’s really nice.

After a long day of shopping and strolling, we found ourselves in the grocery store buying sandwiches and drinks for the train ride home. We munched happily on the return journey, viewing a number of different wild animals in the forest around us including deer, fluffy-eared squirrels and mountain goats.

Later that night, we went to the home of one of my mother’s students. Mike, a Hong Kong boy who lives with his girlfriend, Janice, served us homemade sashimi, nigiri and many different types of sushi. As we ate the lovely meal, we talked about our travels and shared life stories. I really love this sweet couple, and we thanked them vigorously as we departed, leaving them with a bottle of Italian wine. I really hope we can hang out with Mike and Janice again soon.

Sunday brought another huge round of snow, practically burying Leysin. After taking a few online tests up at the school, Adam and I returned home to find that my mom had rebuilt Peppersworth bigger than ever before. His blue hat made from a plastic cup looked practically miniscule on his bulbous head. However, like always, Peppersworth retained his unbearable cuteness and charm.

By evening, we went to the home of my mom’s friend, Nicole. She helped us with our French and shared some yummy salmon hors d’oeuvres before we met up with another friend in the lobby of my mom’s residence. Annie, who is from China, told us a number of interesting stories, including a particularly scary one about an abused Tibetan man. I cannot recount it here, but the story was alarming nonetheless, and it’s clear to me that Annie has experienced a countless number of life’s difficult challenges. As we sipped wine in front of a crackling fireplace and carried on many deep conversations, Annie spontaneously invited my mom, Adam and me to come to Tibet with her this summer. We’ll see…

Nicole, her boyfriend, and another friend named Greg met up with us in the lobby later that night. After more wine and spiritual discussion, we all departed to our respective homes.

And that was last night. The past week has been incredibly enjoyable, and I can’t wait to continue my adventure on the other side of Europe. My next blog will be almost exclusively devoted to London, so look for it in the first week of March. I love you all, miss you, and thank you from the bottom of my wine glass for reading. Au revoir…

2/21/2011 All Settled In

Let’s see… where did I leave off? The school’s French restaurant… That was Thursday, and god, it was amazing. The students put on such a wonderful gourmet dining experience for us as always; the whole thing was so precious. I packed myself full of hot dinner rolls before the first course came out, but I still managed to finish off my entire meal. First was an Italian salad as a starter, then a main course of shrimp, noodles and vegetables. My mom enjoyed the pork special, and Adam had steak. Finally, for dessert, I ate chocolate mousse with mango and raspberry. Everything was to die for, and the service was impeccable. Our student server was a polite, sweet girl from Angola. She thanked us profusely in French as we left.

It never fails to charm me how this school is so full of people from so many different nations. Out of a number of schools in Leysin, SHMS is the only one known for being a multi-cultural association, where hundreds of different nationalities are represented. Within the school, I have friends from Russia, New Zealand, Australia, different parts of Europe, Africa, and Asia and even some from the States. I feel so lucky to have the chance to meet so many people from all corners of the earth. It’s not like America where you can either meet someone from the hood, a trailer park or a farm. This is a truly enriching, multi-national school filled with so many exotic and intensely interesting people. Every single one of these professors and students has something astounding to share. They all have incredible stories relating to their unique countries, they all have different styles, different languages, different mannerisms and little habits. My mom is constantly telling me funny stories about her huge variety of students, and how, for the people of Hong Kong, enthusiastic laughter is the proper response for literally any statement. Tidbits like this are revealed every day due to being surrounded by the entire world at all times. I love this school!

After lunch on Thursday, Adam, my mom and I spent some time touring Leysin village on foot. We showed Adam the post office, the supermarket, and a few of our favorite cafés, shops and pubs. Walking around the village is an experience all on its own. Because this part of Switzerland is so small, people treat even complete strangers as neighbors. The locals are so friendly and literally everyone you pass in the streets will greet you with a cheery, “Bonjour!” or “Bonsoir!” depending on the time of day. It’s also lovely to see everyone walking their dogs, which are permitted inside all establishments including restaurants. It’s not uncommon to walk into a café to find numerous pups lying beneath the tables of their owners. Also, because the Alps are blessed with their own gorgeous springs, there are fountains dotted throughout Leysin in which you can stop to have a drink or fill up your bottle with the purest, coldest water you’ve ever tasted. This is also the same stuff that flows through every faucet in Leysin, so it sort of brings a whole new understanding to the concept of having a glass of water before bed. I doubt there is any water this spectacular in any other place in the world.

The next day, Friday, was a relaxing day full of more reminiscing. We spent a lot of time wandering the school and catching up with companions of old. There are many dimensions of SHMS, all of which are charming in their own way, and I enjoyed showing Adam around. Several little lounges and coffee shops within the school are great places to relax and sip cocoa. There is also a library, a computer lab and a night club, all in which I spend much of my time. The two dining rooms are massive and serve fresh, fine food three times a day. At SHMS, there are two sections of the school: one section seated on the mountain called “Belvedere,” and the second section which sits slightly higher up on the mountain called “Mont-Blanc.” All day long, students and staff travel back and forth between the two parts of the school by means of a sky train, which my mom and I have appropriately deemed, “The Ride-Em.” The small Ride-Em can be fun, except on days when it’s especially frigid outside. On days like that, I refer to the sky train simply as, “The Ice Box.” Friday was also the day that my new snowboard boots arrived from the States, something I had purchased online only days before my departure from Florida. Fortunately, the boots fit me perfectly, but there was one problem: no snow.

In fact, the question of when snow would come became a constant topic of discussion within our circle of friends. When Saturday rolled around with still none of the white stuff in sight, we were admittedly let down. However, we luckily had some wonderfully enchanting things to take our minds off of the disappointment. One of the other schools in Leysin besides SHMS is a high school for only Japanese students.

And for this Japanese high school, Saturday was a very special day. Once a year, the Japanese school of Leysin hosts an open house where everyone in town is invited to come and experience Japanese culture. For those of you reading this that know me very well, I’m sure you can picture my face upon hearing such news. I, in fact, love Japanese culture almost as much as I love culture in general, and decked myself out in anime ears and a Yoshi shirt before sprinting to the Japanese school’s open house event. As soon as the doors opened and the hoard of people waiting outside began flooding in, I was immediately engulfed with Japanese high school students, most of which wore elaborate and beautiful costumes. Some were clad in kimonos while others were dressed as samurai or Pokemon. Many students wore zombie makeup with torn clothes and fake blood running down their faces, holding signs directing visitors to a haunted house event hosted on the bottom floor.

First, my group and I went to the calligraphy room where students helped us write our names (or any phrase of our choice) in Japanese. Our Greek friend, Kostos, chose to write, “Leysin is Beautiful.” As I passed the sudoku room and saw the huge number of Asian people frantically writing numbers on a chalk board, I fearfully retreated into the kimono room. Here, we chose from a wide variety of kimonos hanging on the walls and waited patiently while a huddle of Japanese students scurried to dress us in the costume of our choice. I was truly charmed as a group of three adorable girls spoke in fervent Japanese as they struggled to figure out how to tie my kimono. Nevertheless, all of our kimonos ended up looking fabulous, and we all stood for a picture when the transformations were complete. After the kimono room, we entered another room to play with Japanese toys and purchase Japanese paraphernalia including candy, greeting cards and a few decorative objects for my mom’s apartment. Then, we ate lunch in the large cafeteria, and once again, I was thoroughly in awe to be served by a gaggle of giggling Japanese students. Seriously, they were all so adorable. For lunch, we enjoyed soup, some kind of rice and beef stir-fry, a Japanese donut and tea. Finally, our group climbed the stairs to the top floor of the school to watch a variety show put on by the students and staff of the school. First, an orchestra of students performed two wonderful pieces of classical Japanese music. Then, an adorable boy wearing formal Japanese attire played with bamboo sticks, making various shapes with them while he sang a little song. Then, a group of students performed double-dutch routines that were more than admirable. After that, two boys performed a beautiful song, one on the violin, one on the piano. Next, we watched a traditional Japanese tea ceremony where we were shown the proper way to formally serve tea in one’s home. The whole process was surprisingly complicated and fun to watch. Then, we observed a dramatic performance of the play, “Snow White,” but it was much better than the original, in my opinion. Finally, a huge group of students congregated before the audience to sing three beautiful songs in Japanese. The whole experience was beyond heartwarming.

When I reluctantly left the Japanese school that day, our group migrated towards a cozy little pub nearby called, “Davinda.” The place is warm and quiet, decorated with Eastern ornaments and art, such as a huge canvas of Buddha’s smiling face. I drank hot chocolate with Adam, my mom and Kostos as we talked about our charming day at the Japanese school. After freshening up at home, we all came back out for dinner at one of my favorite places in Leysin, “Lynx.” I greedily gorged on my very own Lynx burger, something I’ve been desperately missing for three years.

On Sunday morning, we woke to find buckets of snow falling from the sky! In only a matter of hours, almost a foot of white powder had stacked itself up on my mom’s balcony and, needless to say, Adam and I were outside relentlessly chucking snowballs at random passers-by within minutes. The locals, who are completely used to it, laughed wholeheartedly and threw some back. This was good fun, but wanting to take complete advantage of the situation, we quickly dressed, ate brunch in the school, then began making our way up to one of the only churches in Leysin village. Snowboard gear in hand, we arrived at the top of a large hill behind the old church, then spent an hour boarding. My mom, Adam and I all did surprisingly well, hauling ass down the hill at blinding speeds. It was a blast and a half. After that, we hiked through the snow back to the school to find a group of old friends chilling in “Coffee Bean,” one of SHMS’s in-school cafés. Our Russian friend, Denis, spoke with us for a few minutes, then Bobo, a friend from Zambia, sat and shared a few interesting stories. We talked about the different projects we are working on: his screenplay and my book series, and how both will become movies very soon. As we sipped our hot chocolate and cappuccinos, my mom eventually left and began building a snowman outside the café window. “Jack the Grim Reaper,” turned out beautiful, but his cute, smiling face hardly lived up to his name.

At around 3 PM that day, we found ourselves at another friend’s house for tea. Yummy cookies and other snacks filled our bellies while the English-style tea warmed our frozen throats. Guarav, a professor who also teaches at SHMS, and his family are from the UK with Indian roots, and told us they are planning a trip to London in the upcoming days. Adam and I still need to look up flight prices, but there is a good chance we will be able to accompany the family on their trip. If we can make this happen, I will be thrilled.

A few hours later, we trudged back home, falling prey to random snowballs all the while. Around ever corner, a sniper lurked, icy pellet in hand, waiting for the next unsuspecting victim to stumble into their trap. All day long, snowball fights ensued among my mom, Adam, Kostos and me, as well as a number of strangers throughout the village.

Finally, at around 6 PM, we arrived at the Earnhart’s house for club sandwiches. Stephen Earnhart, who is a dean at SHMS, has always been a good friend of my mother’s, and I’ve always enjoyed staying with him, his wife, and their two children. All of them are trilingual.

Well, I believe my blog is now up-to-date. I will continue to keep everyone posted on whether or not this whole London thing is going to work out. I sincerely hope it does, and will be celebrating incessantly on Facebook and Tumblr as soon as I hear good news. Hope you are all well. Au revoir…

2/17/2011 Journey and Arrival

I can’t believe I’m finally here again. There is no possible way to describe the elation I felt upon arriving in Switzerland after three years of missing it. The same friendly faces were here to greet me, including my mother’s. The Alps still do not fail to take my breath away. I want to stay on the side of this mountain forever.

The trip over was tiring, but smooth. As I had predicted, the eagerness got me through the slower parts of the journey. In Tampa Airport, we crammed our faces with snacks until boarding the 11:45 flight to New York. The flight went by quickly with Akon, Eiffel 65 and Timbaland keeping me company. The tiny plane was packed full of people, so there was no such thing as sleep, but by the time we arrived in JFK Airport, I wasn’t tired anyway. We ate lunch at a restaurant called “Au Bon Pain,” which means, “Of the Good Bread,” in French, and played our Nintendo DS for the few hours of our layover. After checking in with Swiss Air, I also did some people-watching. One of my favorite games to play is guessing what country people are from based on their attire. If you’ve traveled the world a lot, you’ll find it’s very easy to predict a person’s nationality from simple things like brand and color of shoes or a particular type of scarf. Eavesdropping on a conversation would eventually reveal their language and/or accent to confirm my guess. I’m pretty good at the game and highly entertained by it. I find the little nuances hilarious, such as the fact that Brits are almost always dressed hideously and only Americans wear white sneakers. With only a slight bias, I can easily say Italians win the title of “Best Style.” :)

We boarded our flight to Geneva, Switzerland at around 7:30 PM. In contrast to our first flight, this giant plane was almost empty. Adam and I had tons of room to stretch out, and we ended up sleeping for a good four hours. The ride was comfy and entertaining. Of course, the meals were above satisfactory and Adam and I enjoyed beef, ravioli, potatoes, salad, bread rolls, sliced cheese and a chocolate brownie for dessert. Obviously our pescatarian diet is history by now, but trust me, I’m enjoying my meat again. After dinner, I watched a show about penguins, then we took our little nap and woke to breakfast being served: croissants, yogurt and orange juice. Miraculously, Adam and I ordered all of our snacks, drinks and meals in French. I’m relieved that our skills are already improving by the day.

Finally, at around 9 on Wednesday morning, our plane touched down onto the European continent. Adam seemed to be in shock, as he has never been here before. In Geneva Airport, everyone around us was speaking in different tongues, usually either in French, German or Italian. It’s always a bit disorienting but I actually enjoy the challenge of permeating language barriers. As we navigated the train system to find our way to Leysin village, we got around using only French. The rides were enjoyable, despite hauling heavy luggage the whole way. And even though the sky was quite cloudy that day, it wasn’t long before the Alps finally permeated the mist. Once again, Adam was speechless and I felt overwhelmed with relief to be back home. At the train stop in Leysin, my mom’s beaming face appeared at our train window.

It wasn’t long before I was back inside the Swiss Hotel Management School again, where my mom teaches. I strode through the familiar halls, tearfully hugging familiar friends, savoring familiar smells, sights and sounds. This school is so massive and gorgeous. In a fairly old-timey village, SHMS appears alien with its chic furniture, modern art gracing the walls and marble floors in which you can see your reflection. The building is stunning on its own, but I know it will look even more regal when it’s surrounded with snow. We’re expecting lots of it in the upcoming days. Needless to say, I can hardly wait.

After taking a reminiscent tour of the school, greeting old friends and being introduced to a few new ones, we hiked the cobblestone streets over to my mom’s place, which is right around the corner. This is also one of the only fast-forward, striking buildings in Leysin village. An indoor pool, hot tub, steam room and sauna are downstairs. Also, a large bar and several beautiful lounges can be seen on the first floor. Crackling fire places around every corner already make the place feel like home. Lots of people, especially young students, are everywhere, quietly sipping hot coffee as they study on huge, squashy sofas.

After taking the elevator to the next floor, we arrived at my mom’s room. The place is humble but cozy. A massive sign reading, “Bienvenue en Suisse!” greeted us immediately. A table in the center of the room was laden with care packages and other goodies including wine bottles, cheese, chocolate, flowers, balloons and cards. The comfy beds were neatly made and a balcony at the far end of the room revealed the awe-inspiring mountain range.

After settling in, we hiked over to a friend of my mom’s house for a hot fondue dinner. He is also a professor at the Swiss Hotel Management School, and specializes in wine-tasting. The name of one of the classes he teaches is called “The Seven C’s,” in which students learn to become connoisseurs in the disciplines of champagne, chocolate, cheese, cigars, coffee, cognac and caviar. My mom has already informed us that Adam and I will be able to sit in on a number of classes here, including The Seven C’s.

After trekking home to take long, hot baths, everyone passed out at 8 PM. It’s now day two, and I’m already excited for the new adventures lurking just around the next corner. Today, we will be having lunch in the school’s French restaurant, in which free meals are served by students who are learning the art of gourmet cooking. I’ve eaten here many times and know from experience that it’s pretty much the real thing. I’m intensely looking forward to it. Well, my belly is rumbling so I better start heading in that direction. Look for my next post where I’ll be talking about a possible trip to London in the upcoming weeks. Au revoir…

2/14/11 Waiting…

Today, we picked up all of our foreign currency at the bank. Holding the rainbow-colored Swiss Francs and Euros was surreal. It was like shaking hands with an old friend. I’ve missed using this money. Already, I’m feeling giddy at the prospect of spending it on a fine French meal and a bottle of champagne.

Tomorrow, my flight to New York leaves at 11:45 AM. From there, we’ll be heading to Geneva, Switzerland after a five-hour layover. Most people would consider this lame, but I don’t even care. I’m going to Europe, baby! It’s been almost three years since I last visited my real home… The anticipation will make even the five hours of waiting enjoyable.

Besides, I love being in airports. The energy is so exciting, so filled with that sense of, “It’s almost time!” Plus, I’m sure Cinnabon and Chick-Fil-A will keep us happy. We’ve also packed tons of electronic entertainment and an Alienware backpack full of high-calorie snacks, which we will be binging on. Goldfish, Pringles, Rice Crispy Treats, Chips Ahoy, homemade beef jerky, those little Hostess cupcakes with the swirls on top…  the list goes on. Adam and I will quickly slip into sugar induced comas, I’m sure. Anyway, I’m looking forward to busting into all of that during that five-hour wait, and possibly even doing a bit of query writing while I munch.

I’ll definitely be on Skype and Facebook at some point during that time as well, so look for me. I’m so excited that I’m getting this opportunity to travel again, and really want to share all of my experiences with anyone who will listen. World travel is so important to me, and I desperately want to inspire people to feel the same way. I believe so much can be learned outside of the small box of America, and we should all strive to explore new places and cultures. So many beautiful countries reside outside of our own, so many unique, interesting people. Please, please, please follow my blogs, especially if you’ve never been outside of the States before. I want you to experience what’s happening first-hand, so that maybe you can get a taste of what travel is all about.

We’re just about all packed up, but there is still much to do before my flight tomorrow. I’ll be adding another post as soon as I can, so keep an eye out for my next one. Au revoir…