I Feel Pretty Neutral About Switzerland

Well...that's not quite true. It would be more accurate to say that I have mixed feelings about Switzerland. So let's just say that the positive ones cancel out the negative ones and leave me feeling neutral, because that makes for a witty title.

But even that isn't completely truthful.

The truth is that, in spite of what I have decided to refer to as "The Series of Unfortunate Events" (a.k.a. Expensive Swiss Mishaps 1, 2, and 3), I loved Switzerland.

Switzerland is the grumpy old cat that hates being touched, and scratches anyone who comes near it. And I am the child who insists on picking it up and hugging it anyway.

Switzerland is beautiful--I would say that it's almost as beautiful as Iceland, but in a completely different way. Iceland had a raw, rugged beauty in its landscapes, all natural, and all its own. Much of Switzerland's beauty comes from its natural features, like rivers and lakes so clear and blue that you think you've landed in a fairytale. Or how about the Swiss freaking Alps? Even standing right on top of one of them, looking out at three more right in front of me, I almost couldn't believe they were real.

But some of Switzerland's beauty also comes from humankind's additions to the land, like the miles of vibrantly green farmland and wide open meadows, with cute little houses enhancing, rather than detracting from, the scenery. Ugh. those adorable little Alpine towns, nestled into valleys, reflected in those perfect lakes, or cut right into the mountainsides...even Swiss cows were the cutest stinking cows that I'd ever seen.

The cities that I visited all had buildings dating back to medieval times, many with intricate frescoes between their windows, others painted bright, happy colors, and I swear every window had its own little flower garden.

I could go on and on about how beautiful Switzerland is, but let's fast-forward to the part where I tell you what I did while I was there (besides lose all of my money).

Halfway through my train ride from Munich to Zurich, my train pulled into a station on a peninsula on the Bodensee. Which meant that, when we pulled out of the station a few minutes later, my carefully-selected, forward-facing seat now faced backwards. So when my train arrived in Zurich two hours later, I was feeling a wee bit queasy. Nonetheless, I found my way to the official meeting point in the Zurich Hauptbahnhof with little difficulty. (It helped that there was a giant sign with the universal symbol for "meeting point" on it.) There, I finally officially met the fraternity Brother who--via Facebook--had offered to host me during my stay in Zurich. After a quick stop in the train station's mad house of a grocery store (being one of the only stores in the city open on a Sunday has its hazards), we hopped on the S9 train to Schwerzenbach, the suburb of Zurich where my friend lived.

That evening, I had the first home-cooked (and also maybe the first vegetarian) meal I'd had in three weeks. I didn't realize how much I'd missed home cooking until I was swooning over the first bite of risotto and roasted root veggies.

I also hadn't realized just how much I'd missed the American way of making beds until I was snug under the covers that night--after watching both the Browns (my hosts' team) and the Ravens (my team) lose. Don't get me wrong, European beds are comfy, but when you've had a top sheet between you and your comforter your whole life, you can't quite get used to just having the comforter.

Between the food, the football, and the bedding--not to mention my awesome ex-pat hosts!--I was feeling pretty at home in Switzerland from the get-go, and I was ready to get out and explore Zurich the next morning. In the morning mist, I roamed around, finding my way to the old town, and then parked myself on a bench to enjoy the sight of the sun breaking through the clouds over the lake. 

At 11:00, I met up with a group of people at Paradeplatz for--you guessed it--a free walking tour of the city. My tour guide was a native Zuricher, currently a student at the university. Some of my favorite stories from the tour:

--Near the end of the 13th century, the city of Zurich's army set out to capture a neighboring city. The leader of another nearby city caught wind of this, and sought to capture Zurich in its army's absence. The women of the city saw the oncoming army, and, led by a woman named Hedwig, dressed up in armor and stood atop the city wall, which led the would-be invaders to believe that the city was still defended by its army. So they about-faced and headed back home.

--When Tina Turner (now a Swiss citizen residing in Zurich) got married to Erwin Bach in 2013, she invited all of her celebrity friends to the ceremony, including the one and only Oprah. Oprah apparently decided to do some shopping while in town, and selected a purse at an expensive boutique in the old town. The sales clerk, who apparently had no idea who Oprah was (!), suggested that she should perhaps look at some purses more within her price range. As if there is anything out of Oprah's price range. 

After the tour, I popped up one of the two towers of one of the Grossmünster church for a great view over the city.

I then met up with my friend, accompanied by her faithful hound, and we went to a vegetarian restaurant for lunch, where my single plate of animal-product-free foods set me back 25 Francs ($27 USD). Eek!

Deciding on the spot that I needed to save some money, I opted for nice, free tap water as my beverage. Of course, after lunch, saving money went out the window as my friend took me on a tour around some of Switzerland's famous chocolate shops.

The first one we checked out was Sprüngli, which is known not only for its chocolate, but also for its Luxemburgerli, which are tiny macarons, traditionally comprised of two almond meringues with buttercream filling in between. They were invented in the 1950s by a guy from Luxembourg, who had originally called them "foam kisses." Of course, the blushing young ladies who frequented the shops back then weren't so bold as to ask for "foam kisses," so they referred to them as Luxemburgerli, and the name stuck.

I'd never had a macaron before, so I was super excited when the smiling lady behind the counter offered us free samples of the seasonal flavor (walnut and plum brandy) as a reward for our attempts to speak German. It was love at first bite. I. Am. Obsessed. But in the interest of saving some funds for the rest of the chocolate tour, I limited myself to buying only four Luxemburgerli to take with me: raspberry, mandarin, chocolate, and gold champagne (because I'm fancy like that).

Next up was Teuscher, which had some pretty spectacular Halloween decorations up in their store, plus lots of seasonally-shaped confections. Two flavors of chocolate caught my eye: chocolate and chili (always a tasty and unique combination), and chocolate with pink pepper (I don't know about you, but I had never even heard of pink pepper before). I picked up a bar of each.

Stop number three was Honold Confiserie, which had not only chocolates, but also a mouthwatering array of cakes, cookies, and other treats, each of which was intricately decorated, and each of which had a mini-heart attack of a price tag. I selected a variety of small chocolates, including a dark chocolate truffle, a milk chocolate truffle, a mocha chocolate, a caramel chocolate, and an absinthe-filled chocolate bean (because I'd never tried absinthe, and it piqued my curiosity).

The fourth and final shop that we visited was Läderach, which is known for its chocolate slabs, made fresh every day. These slabs of chocolate (both milk chocolate and dark) are available in a mind-boggling assortment of flavors. You can choose how big of a piece you want broken off of the slab, and you then pay by weight. The flip sides of the slabs are helpfully labeled with the flavor, and of course the name Läderach, in edible gold ink. Which makes it easier when you get home and can't recall which flavors you picked out. I opted for dark chocolate Florentine, which was topped with candied almond slivers, and milk chocolate with crystalized honey in it.

With that, the chocolate tour came to an end, and my friend and her dog and I wandered around the old town until my friend remembered a vet appointment that they were supposed to be at, and dashed off. I meandered around town for a while as the sun started to set, then stopped in a department store to warm up.

Until that point, I hadn't really grasped how expensive Switzerland is. We're talking markups on a movie-theater concession-stand scale. NFL-stadium-at-playoffs sized profit margins. On everything, everywhere. To give you some perspective: trial-size toiletries (you know, the teeny-tiny little shampoos and whatnot) were priced, on average, at 2.79 Francs. That's about $3.00 USD. Just in case you're out of touch with how much those things usually cost: you can get them at Target for 97 cents.

Anywho, shortly thereafter, Expensive Swiss Mishap #1 took place. If you missed that post, go read it now, because I'm going to pick up where it left off.

At that point, I was really in need of a pick-me-up, so I broke into my Honold chocolates and started with the absinthe-filled chocolate bean. Ahh, absinthe...what an enticing name, what a disgusting flavor (unless you relish the taste of black licorice, which I absolutely despise). As you can imagine, that didn't really improve my mood. But the mocha chocolate that I chose next made me feel much better. If you know me at all, this won't come as a surprise...you know what miracles chocolate and coffee can work on my mood.

When I made it back to Schwerzenbach a little later, I was already looking at the bright side of my mishap--if nothing else, it's a funny story for you people to read--but I still appreciated the sympathy that my friends offered. I also appreciated the cheesy deliciousness that was dinner. No, not fondue...raclette! It's a very Swiss meal; it's basically reverse fondue. You heat up the cheese until it's all melty and gooey and wonderful, and then scrape it onto whatever you have on your plate (in our case, that was roasted broccoli and potatoes, bread, and bacon).  Helloooo, new favorite food!

 I capped off my evening by finally eating those four Luxemburgerli that I'd been thinking about all day. I'd been tempted to crack them open earlier, but I was glad that I saved them for the very end of the day. I had sweet dreams of Swiss junk food that night. (Yes, that pun was intended, and no, I will not apologize for it.)

On Tuesday, I was ready to turn over a new leaf in Switzerland. Based on my friends' recommendation, I had a day trip planned to Fribourg/Freiburg and to Bern, and I was hoping these cities would be kinder to me than Zurich had been the day before. I validated my public-transit day pass and hopped on a train to Fribourg/Freiburg.

Why the two spellings? Great question! I'm glad you asked...

Switzerland has four official languages: German (very different from the German that they speak in Germany), French (very different from the French that they speak in France), Italian (very different from the Italian that they speak in Italy), and Romansh (very different from the Latin that it started out as). Fribourg/Freiburg is located right where the German-speaking and French-speaking parts of Switzerland meet. Of course, I didn't realize this until I got there and the announcement on the train played in French, then German, then English. I thought I'd gotten on the wrong train for a minute.

Fribourg/Freiburg has a very old Old Town. Most of the houses in that part of town have been there since the Middle Ages. I had a great time just roaming along the lanes that went up and down the hills, back and forth across the river, and along the crumbling city wall. I spent the whole morning there, doing nothing in particular but wandering and taking pictures and acquiring an embarrassing damp patch on my jeans from sitting on a bench that I had failed to notice was wet.

Around 1:00, I hopped on a train to get to Bern. I made a beeline for the river, where I was once again wonderstruck by how clear and blue the water was. Even though these rivers of Alpine origin run right through major Swiss cities, the water is easily clean enough to swim in (though it was a bit too chilly that day for me to feel inclined to do so).

As I explored the streets of Bern, the clouds rolled in, and I took cover in a café, where I enjoyed a cappucino and some sort of chocolate cake with Bailey's in it while I waited for the rain to relent. The clouds stuck around, but the rain was barely a drizzle when I headed out to the Rose Gardens, where my favorite pastime--a free walking tour--was scheduled to begin at 5:00. I got there early, but almost missed the start of the tour when I got caught up with smelling the last of the blooms.

I was glad I didn't miss the tour, because I learned a lot of fun facts abour Bern on the tour, including:
--According to local lore, Bern is named for bears, apparently the first animal that the founder of the city encountered on a hunt when he arrived in the area. Bears have been kept in capitvity in the city since shortly after its founding in the 12th century (though their habitats have become far more humane since then).
--Swiss street signs are usually blue, but in Bern, each district has its own color street signs, including green, yellow, and red, as well as blue. Apparently, when Napoleon took over the city at the end of the 18th century, his troops took advantage of the city's substantial wine stores. The drunken soldiers (understandably) had some trouble finding their way home at night, so the colors of the street signs were changed to make it easier for the soldiers to navigate.
--A major step towards modern chocolate was made in Bern in 1879, when Rudolphe Lindt accidentally left his chocolate mixer running overnight. In the morning, he discovered that the constant mixing of the chocolate for extended periods made it incredibly smooth (up until that time, chocolate had a very gritty, rather unappealing texture). Bam! Chocolate became delicious.
--Speaking of chocolate, you probably knew that Toblerone is Swiss chocolate. You may have even made the connection between the iconic mountain logo and the Matterhorn, Switzerland's most famous Alp. But what you may not have noticed is that, within that mountain logo, there is also the image of a bear. That's because when Theodor Tobler invented Toblerone in 1908, he was very proud to do so in Bern, the city of the bear.

Da bears.

That tour was chock-full of interesting facts, in spite of the fact that it wrapped up a little early because of the cold and the dark, not to mention the return of the rain. I wasn't too upset about it, though, because it gave me time to pop into one of Bern's famous basement bars before I caught my train back to Schwerzenbach.

All in all, by the time I got back, I was feeling pretty good about my mishap-free day, and was super pumped to get to the Alps on Wednesday.

Of course, my optimistic outlook was toast when Swiss Mishap #2 struck. I'll wait while you read that one.

All caught up? Good.

The Alps. Oh my Lanta. They say a picture is worth a thousand words, so, here, have a few thousand words:

Eigen, Mönch, and Jungfrau in the background.

The mountain that I went up was called Schilthorn, and it took quite an elaborate series of trains, cable cars, and funiculars to get there. My journey took me through Mürren, one of the most adorable Alpine towns you can imagine.

Schilthorn also happens to be where many of the scenes from "On Her Majesty's Secret Service" (a James Bond movie, starring George Lazenby as 007) was filmed. The building that they used is now a tourist attraction at the summit of the mountain, featuring a Bond museum.

There's also a thrill walk:

I took a picture of the kid in front of me on this one so my phone could stay safely in my pocket while I did it. 

I didn't go on this one. I was afraid that my sweaty hands would stick to the metal and I'd be stuck out there.

Just several thousand feet above the ground, with only some chain-link or Plexi-glass between me and plummeting to my death. You know. Casual. 

On my way back down, I stopped in Mürren for a cappucino and some apfelstrudel, with a side of the Alps. 

By the time I'd made my way back to my friends' house that evening, I'd forgotten the mishaps of the morning, and was still feeling in awe of the Alps. I was also feeling a little sunburned, since I hadn't even thought about applying sunscreen that day (never underestimate that glare off the snow).

My friends then introduced me to another Swiss food: meringues, dipped in unsweetened whipped cream. Sounds kind of weird, but I've been hit with a hardcore craving for it several times since. Yum.

A pretty dang fantastic day, I think, even with the morning's misadventure.

The next day began with an exciting morning of...laundry. That's what happens when you travel for a month, and your wardrobe is limited to what fits in your backpack. 

Once my clothes were clean, I packed them into my backpack and set off for the train station. I still had one more night in Zurich, but I had to switch to a hostel for the evening, because my hosts were headed to Madrid for a long weekend! 

Of course, my last full day in Switzerland wouldn't be complete without another mishap. 

Once I had sufficiently recovered from that one, with a little help from a cappucino and a chocolate lava cake at a riverside café, I checked into my hostel, which was up four flights of stairs from the street level, and above not one, but two restaurants' kitchens. I settled in to the rather cozy (that's the nice way of saying "too small to turn around in without bumping into someone or something") but comfortable room, then hopped on yet another train to check out the waterfall in Neuhausen. My hosts had suggested it, with the caveat that, if I'd seen Niagara Falls, I wouldn't be impressed. I haven't, but I did see the Gulfoss waterfall when I was in Iceland, so I wasn't blown away by this particular waterfall. But I somehow managed to enjoy hiking around it anyway.

Upon returning to my hostel that evening, I headed up to the rooftop terrace to watch the sun set over the city while I wrote some postcards. I hit the hay early so that I could be sure I wouldn't oversleep and miss my train the next day (it seemed likely, in light of all the other mishaps I'd had).

Spoiler alert: against all odds, my departure from Switzerland the next day went smoothly.

On my way to the train station, I caught sight of this guy. Well, I heard him first, obviously.

Not exactly sure why he was playing an Alphorn in the middle of the city at 9:00AM, but it made me smile on my morning walk to the Hauptbahnhof, regardless. 

In the train station, I found that I had some time to kill before my train. So I stopped into Sprüngli to spend my last 5 Francs. There, I picked out four more Luxemburgerli to eat on the train. I wanted my last taste of Switzerland to be sweet. 

Insert Witty Title About Munich Here

Now that I'm no longer in the land of expensive mishaps  (otherwise known as Switzerland), I finally found time to write about Munich! Better late than never, right?

I arrived in Munich early in the afternoon, in the middle of a downpour. Luckily, my hostel was only two blocks from the Hauptbahnhof, so I was in the lobby by 1:15pm. It was then that I learned that check-in didn't start until 3:00pm. I wasn't thrilled about the idea of hauling my luggage around in the rain while I explored my new city, so I curled up with a book in the cozy greenhouse-like area of the lobby until 3:00.

When I was finally able to get into my room, I didn't spend long there. Pausing just long enough to put down my bags and smile at my new roommates, I headed back out into the rain.

I quickly found Marienplatz at the center of the old town, and took a break from the rain by ducking into a few of the many churches in the surrounding area. Now, I don't have a specific interest in churches as such, but European churches and cathedrals tend to be some of the most beautiful buildings from their various times, even if you know nothing about either churches or architecture. Plus, the appeal of the dry warmth within was irresistible.

Of the few produce stands open in the square on this rainy Tuesday evening, on had the reddest, most mouth-watering strawberries that I had ever seen. So I had to buy a half-kilo of them, which I promptly polished off. That tided me over while I did some more serious grocery shopping at the Aldi around the corner from my hostel. In the interest of saving money on food, I invested in some peanut butter, Nutella, and sandwich bread. Lunch for the next few days: check.

I grabbed a döner sandwich for dinner from one of the many kebap places in the neighborhood of my hostel, then hit the hay, hoping for better weather the next day.

Wednesday marked my official 1-month travel-versary, which kicked off with breakfast in the hostel. I had some time to kill before the 10:45 walking tour, so I headed out into the city in search of a drugstore, so I could replenish my supply of teeny-tiny toiletries. I walked for about 20 minutes without coming across one, so I broke out my navigation app, which told me there was a DM (the German equivalent of CVS) right around the corner. Well, I rounded the corner, my GPS chirping that I had arrived at my destination, and saw before me....a block of apartments. Just as I had come to the conclusion that I would need to bust out my German and ask a local, a set of escalators caught my eye. I hopped on the downward bound one, and, sure enough, there was a whole shopping center down there.

Mini-shampoo in hand, I returned to the hostel just in time for the walking tour, during which I had a bratwurst from the Viktualienmarkt, saw the devil's footprint in the Frauenkirche, and heard a lot about the kings of Bavaria: Maximilian I, Ludwig I, Maximilian II, and Ludwig II. (Not very creative, those Wittelsbachs.)

Our guide also took us through the Hofbräuhaus, and showed us the lockers where the regulars can store their steins (an honor that is literally passed down from generation to generation).

I also met a girl from Pittsburgh, which was the closest to home that I'd met so far (aside from the family friend in Iceland on my first day, of course). After the tour, we grabbed a cappucino and decided to check out the tower of Peter's Church, which gave us a pretty spectacular view of the city (which was fortunately not covered by clouds at that point).

We also caught the 5 o'clock show of the Glockenspiel at Marienplatz on our way to the Augustiner Bräustuben for dinner (which our guide had recommended). We treated ourselves to drafts of the best beer in Munich (according to the locals) and Prost!-ed with our tablemates.

Thursday was once again rainy, so I broke up my strolls through the Royal Botanical Gardens and the English Gardens with a trip to Munich's toy museum, which was four floors of the history of playthings, featuring toys up through the 1980s. Did you know that modern teddy bears (the kind that can move their heads, arms, and legs) were invented in the 1800s by a German?

After the toy museum, I wandered back through the English Gardens, where I leisurely strolled along the river, coming to a dead halt when I saw someone in it. It took me longer than it probably should have to realize that he was surfing. But then again, it was a rainy day with a temperature just above freezing, and we were a couple hundred miles from the nearest coast. But apparently river surfing is a thing in Munich, because once that guy wiped out, I noticed four others waiting their turn.

When I finally got too cold to keep watching the surfers, I wandered on in search of a hot coffee. I didn't have to wander far, because Fräulein Grüneis café was just a few paces from the river. I warmed my hands on a cappucino (I'm getting to be a pretty big fan of those) and splurged on an extra-large brownie before plunging back into the rain.

After about another hour out in the rain, I wasn't feeling so hot, so I headed back to my room to take a nap so I could rally for the rest of the evening.

Well, the nap happened, but the rallying didn't. Four hours later, I was still in bed, a pile of tissues beside me, bemoaning the germs from four different countries that, it seemed, had finally caught up with me. Half an hour later, I dragged myself to the grocery store for sustenance: two fresh pretzels and a bag of clementines (gotta get that Vitamin C from somewhere).

When I came back, I chatted with my roommate an optometrist from Malaysia (!). We ended up having a pretty interesting discussion about the differences between the values in our respective home countries, and how that affects who we become as people. #intellectual

It distracted from my misery for a little while, but I still called it quits early that night so I would be up for adventures again the next day.

Well, I wasn't up early the next day, but at least I was up. I braved public transportation to get to Olympiapark with only the bare minimum of mishaps. And by "bare minimum," I mean "took the wrong train, and then got off at the wrong stop once I was on the right train." Sigh.

For those of you who don't know, Munich's Olympiapark is where the 1972 Olympic Games were held; it's still in use today as a fitness park, convention center, and concert venue. (And, of course, as a tourist attraction.) I visited each of the stadiums, and the aquatic center, and debated paying €7 to go up in the TV tower (since it was cloudy, I decided against it). I also checked out the Walk of Fame along the lake, which has sidewalk squares--a lá Hollywood--featuring the handprints of the artists who have performed at the park.

Around 2:30, I headed toward the U-bahn station, stopping at BMW World on my way. I scoped out all the shiny new models, any of which I would have been happy to take home if they'd had automatic transmission. I also tested out a couple of the motorcycles that they had on display, and broke out my limited German to ask a grandfatherly-looking fellow to take my picture.

I then hopped on the U-bahn back into town, and managed to go one stop too far--oops--which meant that I saw a new part of the city--yay! I stopped in a café for--you guessed it--coffee and cake. This is one German custom that I will definitely be taking home with me.

I popped into a post office to mail a few postcards as I meandered back to the hostel, where I met up with my Pittsburgh friend. We went off in search of dinner at a schnitzel restaurant that the front desk staff had assured us would have both the fries that I was craving and the spätzle that my friend wanted to try on her last night in Germany. With a little help from public transportation, Google Maps, and a friendly local, we made it to the restaurant at about 8:00, as the dinner rush was winding down.

In an attempt to masquerade as locals, I helped my friend to place her order auf Deutsch, and then proceeded to eat my own currywurst and pommes frites German-style (using my fork for the fries, and keeping said fork in my left hand). Of course, I seriously doubt we fooled anyone into thinking we were native München-ers, since we spoke English to each other the entire time and high-fived after placing our orders. Americans will be Americans.

For my last full day in Munich, I had signed up for a tour of the famous Neuschwanstein castle (you may know it better as the "original Disney castle").

The castle was commissioned by Ludwig II, the "mad king" of Bavaria, who essentially sent the kingdom into bankruptcy by building yet another opulent palace, which he commanded should be destroyed after his death. Naturally, that wish was ignored, and Bavaria more than made back the money spent building Neuschwanstein in the first 11 years that it was open to tourists. "Mad king," or "forward-thinking?"

On the train rides to and from the palace (2 hours one-way), my tour group had plenty of time to get to know each other. We were mostly all American, with a couple of Australians, Argentinians (Argentines?), and a German mixed in.

Now, remember how I said that Pittsburgh was the closest to home that I'd met so far? Well, hold onto your hats for this next part.

Three of the Americans were from Madison, Wisconsin, and it turns out that they all work for the same company where my cousin just got hired.

Three of the other Americans were on leave from the Navy. One of them mentioned that he had attended Virginia Military Institute. As a shot in the dark, I asked whether he knew my friend, whose mom was our Girl Scout troop leader way back when. Not only did he know her, he was in charge of her group of first-years.

It's a small world after all, folks.

By the end of the train ride home, almost the entire group had decided to go to the Hofbräuhaus together for dinner. Well, by the time we got there, it was 8:30 on a Saturday night, and there was no table for our group of ten. So we went a few blocks away to a Paulaner beer hall, and got our Fassbiers and food. I ordered käsespätzle in a somewhat successful attempt to satisfy my craving for mac and cheese.

The next day dawned cold but clear; naturally it would be sunny now that I was leaving Munich. I chatted with my Canadian roommate while I packed up, and made myself a couple of PB&Ns for the road. (That's Peanut Butter and Nutella, in case you weren't sure.)

I ended up at the Hauptbahnhof 40 minutes early for my train to Zurich. I can never seem to remember that train stations aren't like airports. You don't need to get there super early to go through security; rolling up five minutes before the train leaves is A-OK. My train arrived 20 minutes later, and I boarded, full of optimism for my time in Switzerland.

Well, if you've been keeping up with my latest posts, you've gotten a sneak peek at how things went for me in Switzerland, but keep your eyes peeled for a recap post (with oodles of pictures of the Alps!) in the next couple of days.

Yet Another Expensive Swiss Mishap

You read that right. This country has it out for me.

Today, the friends that I was staying with are heading to Madrid for the weekend, so, shortly after lunch, I said goodbye and made tracks for the train station, hostel-bound for my last night in Zurich. At the ticket kiosk, I selected a 26-Franc day pass for all zones, since I planned on adventuring after checking into my hostel, and inserted a 50-Franc bill (it was pictured on the machine, so I knew it would accept it).

It was then that I noticed the small print on the screen that read: "Maximum change given: 19.90." Well, I'd already lost enough cash in Switzerland, so rather than lose 5.10 Francs more, I quickly punched "Cancel." The machine whirred and returned to the start screen. Without giving me back my 50 Francs.

I hit the "Cancel" button several more times, with more and more force each time (because hitting a machine always makes it work, right?), but to no avail. The stupid thing had swallowed my cash and would not spit it back out.

I called my friend. As soon as she picked up, I said, "Okay, don't laugh, but..." and then burst into tears. My friend, in disbelief at my misfortune, instructed me to head to the train station office, and told me that she would meet me at the station, as she'd been planning to take the next train anyway.

The lady at the office blessedly spoke English, and argued with the central office over the phone on my behalf for a solid 10 minutes. She reported that, since I'm leaving Switzerland tomorrow, the were originally unwilling to give my money back. She took down my contact information, and optimistically promised to follow up with me in the next few days. I have the train office's information as well, in case I don't hear from them, and my friend, who immediately offered a much-needed hug upon arriving at the train station, said she'd go to bat for me when she got back from Madrid if I needed her to.

Several deep breaths later, I managed to actually purchase a ticket (after my credit card got rejected, of course), and said a second goodbye to my friend when she got off the train three stops later.

And now a chocolate lava cake and a cappucino at a riverside café (with Wi-Fi!) are providing a balm for my frayed nerves.

Switzerland, I'm leaving tomorrow.

My mother taught me that if I don't have anything nice to say, I shouldn't say anything at all, so I'll stop there.

Expensive Swiss Mishap #2

It's like the entire country is conspiring to get my money, whether or not I want to spend it. (And trust me, I'm trying my best not to.)

Today's forecast called for blue skies all day, so I decided that it was the perfect day to visit some of Switzerland's famous mountains. I knew it would be pretty chilly, so I bundled up and managed to validate my day pass in time to catch the 8:01 train into Zurich. From the tourist information office in the central train station, I grabbed a map of the mountains I was headed for, and stocked up on some snacks. It all took less time than I had expected, and by power-walking to the platform, I made it onto the 8:32 train for the next leg of my journey.

It was standing-room only on that train. I pulled out my phone so I could track our progress towards Bern, where I would change trains and then head toward Interlaken.

It was then that I noticed that, aside from my phone, my pocket was empty. Which it certainly should not have been, because my train ticket was supposed to be in that pocket.

Yup, my 49-Franc day pass was gone with the wind, and I was five minutes in to an hour-long train ride, with a sign right in front of my face telling me (in four different languages) that if I was caught without a ticket, I would be fined a minimum of 100 Francs.

Efforts to quickly purchase a ticket online were fruitless; my phone refused to connect to the internet. I spent the rest of the ride sweating through my carefully layered hiking clothes, dreading the moment when the train staff would swoop down and yell at me in German for being an arrogant American who thought she was above purchasing train tickets.

So when we pulled into Bern fifty-four tense minutes later, I breathed a huge sigh of relief, but was still in need of a day pass for all of the trains, cable cars, and funicular railways that I would be using.

My knight in shining armor arrived an hour and a half later, bearing the new train pass she'd promised when I'd called her from the train in a panic, and I carefully placed it in a zippered backpack pocket and headed for the hills--er, mountains.

Thank the universe for fraternity Brothers.

Note to self: when in Switzerland, don't trust your pants pockets.

My Most Expensive Mishap Yet

Today, I find myself in Zurich, easily one of THE most expensive cities on this Earth. If I didn't have a friend to stay with, I probably would have skipped this pricey city altogether. But since it worked out, I was happy to be able to visit the home of the world's best chocolate.

My first day in Zurich started out auspiciously enough: I found a 5-cent piece on the ground while popping in and out of the various chocolate shops in the beautiful Old Town. I decided that it was a good omen.

Later, I headed into a Swiss grocery store to grab some dinner-making supplies.

This is where it all went wrong.

I paid for my 26 Francs' worth of food--which is not much, by the way--with a 100-Franc bill, with the intent of getting some smaller money. I slipped my 74 Francs in change into my front pocket (because putting anything of value in your back pocket is just asking to be pickpocketed).

When I checked my pocket not two minutes later, the bills were missing. That's 70 Francs, approximately $75 USD that just vanished into thin air.

First reaction: dig through every pocket and every bag on my person. Nothing.

Second step: retrace my steps. No dice.

Third strategy: check with the sales staff. Nada.

Fourth instinct: burst into tears and call mom.

So the summary of today's events is: I bought some of the finest chocolate in one of the most expensive cities in the world. I wandered around said city. I managed to lose 70 Francs in this beautiful, pricey city, in which I have already spent a decent chunk of change.

I've pretty much ruled out pickpocketing, and I don't think the Borrowers are behind this one, either. If you've got any ideas what happened to my cash, feel free to comment below. Otherwise, if you hear a news story about a penniless American college graduate wandering the streets of Zurich, you know who it is.

Coming Soon to a Blog Near You: Munich recap!

I'm Basically Julie Andrews Now

If you didn't already know this about me, I am a pretty big fan of "The Sound of Music." What's not to love? It's got great a love story, there's cute kids singing catchy tunes throughout, it ends with a thrilling getaway (spoiler alert), and, of course, it stars Julie Andrews.

So naturally, I was pretty excited to get to Salzburg, the city in which the movie was both set and filmed--which is rare for movies, I'm learning (to actually be filmed where they are supposed to take place, I mean). The soundtrack was playing on repeat in my brain for my entire train ride from Vienna.

I was also excited to get to Salzburg to see a familiar face: a friend from home, now studying abroad at the University of Salzburg, had graciously agreed to let me crash on his floor.

My friend met me at the train station and then we hopped on a bus to his dorm in South Salzburg. After dumping my stuff, we headed to a local café, where we partook of that wonderful Austrian tradition of afternoon coffee and cake. From our table on the second floor, we had a spectacular view of the mountains, which just made the cappucino and kirschtorte taste that much better.

Salzburg is gorgeous. #nofilter

We wandered somewhat aimlessly through the old town, with my friendly neighborhood tour guide pointing out the various noteworthy places along the way ("There's the McDonald's we all go to, late night..."). We then recalled that, unless we bought an air mattress before all the shops closed in 45 minutes, I'd be sleeping on the concrete floor that night. We scrambled from shop to shop, not being entirely sure what type of store might have what we were looking for, and finally found success at a sporting goods store that happened to be having a going-out-of-business sale.

That night, my head hit the improvised pillow (a bunch of t-shirts and sweaters stuffed into a pillowcase) feeling rather light-headed after manually inflating the air mattress. It was only after I woke up freezing in the middle of the night that I realized that we probably should also have invested in a blanket. I pulled some sweaters from under my head and layered up, managing to drop off again.

The next day began bright and early, because we had a train to Oktoberfest to catch! We met most of our group at the Salzburg Hauptbanhof at 8:00, and spent the next quarter of an hour betting whether or not we were going to make the 8:15 train, because one member of our group had to run back for his passport. We all made it, but it came down to literally the last second.

When we arrived in Munich 90 minutes later, it was pretty easy to find Oktoberfest. Not only were there arrows on the sidewalk pointing the way, but the dirndl-ed and lederhosen-ed crowd created a festival-bound tidal wave that was impossible to fight (not that we were trying very hard at all).

We snagged a table in the Augustiner hall and kicked off our Oktoberfest by Prost!-ing with our first liters at 11:00am. Over the course of the day, we managed to lose both each other and our table in the beer hall, but somehow hold onto souvenir steins. Hats were borrowed and never returned, giant pretzels were shared generously among all, and, thanks to an impressive group effort, we all got on the bus back to Salzburg that night.

The next day was a rather lazy one, as I'm sure you can imagine. I ate a bratwurst for breakfast at 12:30pm, and visited some of Salzburg's many beautiful graveyards. Among the noteworthy graves that I saw were those of Mozart's father and Mozart's wife (Mozart himself having been buried outside of Vienna).

Breakfast of champions

After realizing that we were locked out of the dorm (my friend having lost his key, possibly at Oktoberfest), we met up with the Oktoberfest crowd--at a beer hall, of course (the second-largest one in Austria, in fact). Only a few brave (or perhaps just quickly-recovering) souls actually ordered beers; I was among those who opted for lemonade and a pretzel while we engaged in several intense rounds of Uno.

On Sunday, I did a much-needed load of laundry, then struck out to explore the city on my own (my tour guide needed to get some homework done). In spite of the rain (I guess the good weather couldn't last forever), I hiked up to the fortress on the mountain above the old town. I would have gone on the guided tour of the inside, but €11 seemed a little steep, so I settled for wandering around the outside. On the south side of the fortress, I stumbled upon Nonnberg, the convent from "The Sound of Music." It was then that I decided to take myself on a tour of as many of the locations from the movie as I could find.

In the rain at Leopoldskron

I sloshed through the rain to Schloss Leopoldskron, the house in which the von Trapp family lived in the movie (only the outside of the house was used in the movie, inside scenes were shot at Hellbrunn Palace just outside of the city). I also visited Mirabelle Gardens, where the majority of the iconic "Do, a Deer" scene was filmed.

Mirabelle Gardens

To take a break from the rain, I headed to a café for a cappucino and some postcard-writing, humming "Maria" as I went.

My Salzburg Sunday ended in an Irish pub, watching NFL. (Because how else would I spend a Sunday evening with a bunch of American college students?)

On Monday, I visited the oldest bakery in Salzburg, Stiftsbäckerei St. Peter, which has been baking bread the same way since the 12th century. They use only rye flour, water, and salt to make the sourdough, which is then baked in a wood-fire oven. It was pretty darn delicious, in my humble opinion.

Other carbohydrates consumed that day include:
--a croissant from a different bakery
--a classic pretzel
--fettucine alfredo with shrimp and zucchini
--an apple pretzel
--rice (underneath the curry I had for dinner at 10:00pm)

On my last morning in Salzburg, I once again donned my raincoat and my backpack. With a bag of souvenirs on each arm, I headed to the post office to send my postcards. A successful interaction conducted entirely auf Deutsch deserved a reward, so my friend and I grabbed various pastries (accompanied by cappucinos, naturally) on the way to the train station.

Auf wiedersehen, Salzburg!

Up next, Munich!

My 1-Month Travel-versary!

One month ago today, I got on a plane and kicked off this grand adventure...I still haven't managed to wrap my brain around that. I can't really believe that I'm actually doing this, even 4 weeks and 4 countries in.

And I can't believe that there are *only* 3-and-a-half months to go!

Before my trip, I had somehow gotten it into my head that I was going to constantly be meeting amazing people who were traveling for 6 months to a year, and that I would feel like an underachiever, only here for 4 and a half months.

But of all the other travelers that I've met so far on this trip, I'm the one who's traveling the longest. Many of the people that I met have already returned home. Most were traveling for an average of 3 weeks, a few for a month. There have been a couple of study-abroaders who are in Europe for 3 months. But my 4-and-a-half-month stint abroad is a novelty, even among other hostel-goers. I have yet to meet someone traveling longer than, or even as long as I am.

I was worried about feeling inadequate, and yet, here I am, feeling like an overachiever once again. (I know, shocker: Jess is an overachiever.)

It's really weird to hear people tell me things like, "Wow, I wish I could do what you're doing," or, "I've always read about people doing that and wished I had the guts to do it, too." I was in the same boat: reading other people's travel blogs, hearing about other people's adventures and wishing I could have that. Wishing that I could claim the exclusive title of "traveler." But now that other people have begun to refer to me as such, I feel like an imposter. I don't really feel very special at all.

I thought that these months of travel around various European countries were going to be entirely outside of my comfort zone, which made me nervous, but also excited. I was eager to see myself grow and change as a result of trying new things. For the first week or so, I was definitely outside of my comfort zone. But now, I guess the novelty has worn off. My comfort zone seems to have expanded, more quickly and easily than I had anticipated. I'm no longer sure that I'm going to come back a new woman; maybe I'll just come back the same old Jess, plus a suitcase full of souvenirs.

Guess that's for the folks at home to decide when I get there.

Things I've Learned in My First Month of Travel:
--When you don't know the language, the "point, nod, and smile" technique works 95% of the time.
--"Point, nod, and smile" is not effective when people actually require an answer (or money) from you.
--Bike lane does not equal sidewalk. You will be run over if you are walking there.
--Americans (generally speaking) are obnoxious, arrogant, and entitled. I just want to smack some of them for being so ignorant about the cultures and customs in the places that they are visiting. I have witnessed my fellow countrymen committing many a cultural faux pas, and I am glad to be mistaken for a local so I can avoid being affiliated with these people.
--Never make your bed. (Something I learned in Prague.)
--Knowing a few benchmark numbers makes mentally estimating currency conversions much easier. (For example, 2000 Czech Krona is about 75 Euros.)
--I will not have enough money to keep traveling if I do not stop eating out.
--You don't need to take a picture/video of everything, even if everyone else is. Just be present and actually experience it. If you wanted to look at the world through a screen, you should have just stayed home.
--Don't buy big souvenirs when you're backpacking. 'nuff said.

Things I Haven't Learned in My First Month of Travel:
--German. I'm realizing that 3 years of high-school German does not a fluent speaker make, especially when there have been 5 years of not studying German since then. And I'm not just going to "pick it up" by hearing it all around me. I'm actually going to actively try to learn it now.
--How to type an "@" symbol on a German/Austrian/Czech keyboard. I have to Google "at symbol" and copy and paste it every time I need to type it.
--Don't buy big souvenirs when you're backpacking. Yes, I meant to write that here too.

Anywho, that's what's on my mind on my 1-month travel-versary.

Salzburg post is coming soon!

Good Night, Vienna

After a close call with my connecting train in Břeclav, I arrived in Vienna, sweaty, but relieved to have made it. I peeled off the sweater that I'd needed in chilly Prague that morning, and set off on the 2-kilometer walk to my hostel. 

The streets seemed strangely empty as a wound my way through the city. It kind of freaked me out that I'd booked four nights in a ghost town, until I remembered that it was Sunday, and, unlike in America, people actually take a day off. 

I was delighted to find, upon arrival at my hostel, that the Wi-Fi was far better than at my hostel in Prague; I could actually Skype with my family, and update my blog! I shoved my things into my locker, and headed out into the city to get oriented. Though there were many impressive buildings that I thought easily could have been palaces, it wasn't difficult to find the Imperial Palace, the grandest of them all, and the city center just beyond that. That's the first thing that I do in a new place: find the center of the city. I have a pretty good sense of direction, so once I know where the main part of town is in relation to my hostel, I rarely use a map. It's way more fun to wander.

Not wanting to be out in a new city after dark, I snapped a few pictures of the palace in the fading light, then made my way back to my hostel. On my way back, I grabbed some lo mein and spring rolls from an Asian carry-out restaurant (one of the few businesses open on a Sunday).

I got up early the next day and got moving, exploring the city for a bit on my own before the walking tour at 10:30. I discovered that my hostel was located in Vienna's equivalent of Chinatown, and that I was right across the street from the Naschmarkt, which was just beginning to open up as I walked through. The Naschmarkt is a 1.3-kilometer long open-air market, supplemented by a few cafés. Most of the businesses within the Naschmarkt offer fresh produce, candies and dried fruit, or a mind-boggling array of spices. It's the kind of place I knew my dad would love. (Hear that, Brucie? Get your passport renewed and get yourself to Vienna!)

As 10:30 drew nearer, I returned to the hostel for the walking tour, which ended up being 3 hours long, during which our garrulous tour guide led us a grand total of about 1.5 kilometers from the hostel. In spite of the crawling pace at which we moved through the city, I was glad I went on the tour, because I learned a good bit about Vienna's history, both as part of the Holy Roman Empire and the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Now, I'm not a huge history buff, but it's pretty cool learning about what happened centuries ago right on the spot that you are now standing. 

Some of my favorite facts included: 
--It's often said that, in spite of his pop-star status, Mozart was given a poor person's funeral, but in fact he was buried according to the laws of the emperor at that time, whose philosophy was something along the lines of "waste not, want not." (Under his rule, people shared graves. He also invented a reusable coffin. Not the sentimental type, Joseph II.)
--The giant colored rabbits all around the city aren't rabbits; they're hares. They were a publicity stunt by the Albertina museum to advertise their new exhibit, featuring Albrecht Dürer's "Young Hare." The original work is now in storage to preserve it for future generations, but the giant bunnies--sorry, hares--are still all over the city.

--It's kind of a Viennese tradition to go to the hot-dog stand after the opera. The Bitringer, right between the Albertina and the State Opera House serves a wide variety of sausages and beverages, including champagne.

At the end of the tour, I got to chatting with two Americans and two Brits (having a common language bonds people pretty quickly, I'm finding). We decided to check out the Frauenhuber, which is the oldest coffeehouse in Vienna. It was also the venue for Mozart's final performance. We ordered a variety of coffees, and my new friends quickly followed suit when I ordered a Sachertorte (a Viennese specialty; a chocolate ganache-covered chocolate cake, named for the Hotel Sacher, at which it was invented). Technically, I suppose it was a knock-off, but it still paired really well with the Schockocino that I'd ordered.

We spent the rest of the afternoon wandering the city, mostly along the river, then went our separate ways for dinner, with a promise to meet up at the hostel bar later to use our free drink coupons. I returned to the Naschmarkt and ordered a falafel wrap, speaking entirely in German! Upon my return to my hostel room, I found a note from my now-absent roommates saying that they had found bedbugs and had switched rooms. I handled the situation as any rational adult would: I called my mom in a panic. She talked me down, and, even though I found no evidence of bedbugs, I switched rooms anyway. Chalk up another mishap.

My second evening in Vienna ended in a rousing game of giant Jenga at the hostel bar, a much-needed distraction from the entirely imagined skin-crawling feeling.

I was determined to have a more structured day on Tuesday, so I planned to visit the Belvedere gallery in the morning to see some Gustav Klimts, including "The Kiss," and the Albertina in the afternoon to see some Van Goghs. It was a bit of a hike to the Belvedere, but I still managed to get there with enough time to explore the botanical gardens before the museum opened.

I'm still kicking myself for not packing my student ID, because the non-student entrance fee for the Belvedere was pretty steep. Resolving to ask my mom to send it to me, I entered the gallery and headed straight for the Klimts, which were pretty spectacular in person. However, aside from the Klimts, almost everything else in the gallery was a Renaissance or Baroque portrait or sculpture. I left the museum feeling pretty drained after my efforts to be interested in such art, and decided to save the Albertina for the next morning.

I wandered around town and bought a few souvenirs, then stopped at the Bitringer (which has a green hare on the top, by the way) for lunch. While wandering around the University part of town later, I once again got mistaken for a local, both by some very turned-around tourist, and by real locals. My cover was blown when the locals started speaking to me in rapid-fire German. Clearly, nodding and smiling hadn't been the response they'd been looking for, so I confessed my true identity as a tourist in disguise and hurried off, red-faced and wishing I'd brushed up on my German a little bit more before this trip.

Wednesday morning, I decided to splurge just a little bit, and went to a café for a traditional breakfast, rather than buying another croissant at the grocery store. Whilst ordering a traditional Viennese breakfast and a cappucino, I managed to communicate with the waiter entirely auf Deutsch, which was a much-needed confidence boost for my German skills. I then headed off to the Albertina, hoping that it would be better than my experience at the Belvedere. 

I. Love. The. Albertina.

The exhibit in which the Van Goghs were located housed works by many of my other favorite painters, like Monet. As you walked through, you saw the development of Impressionism from Pointillism, and saw samples from many other smaller, spin-off art movements. Every piece was incredibly expressive, and my soul felt so full when I finally got to the Van Goghs that even my unskilled fingers itched for a sketchbook and pencils. If only there weren't so many guards and security cameras...I would have selfied it up, big time.

After wandering through a self-portrait exhibit by contemporary American artist Jim Dine, I explored the staterooms of the Albertina for a little break from all the paintings. A couple of the staterooms in particular reminded me of "Anastasia," the animated movie I'd been somewhat obsessed with as a child. I caught myself humming "Once Upon a December," and figured I'd better get out of there before I started twirling around the ballroom.

The last exhibit that I saw in the Albertina was of contemporary art, including an Andy Warhol. It was a pretty fun exhibit to walk through, and I got a good laugh out of Ad Reinhardt's "Black on Black no. 8;" it was--no joke--an enormous, entirely black canvas with a black frame.

In my wanderings after the Albertina, I ran into my two roommates (from New York City and Las Vegas), who were finishing up the same tour of the city that I'd taken on Monday. We decided to quickly pop into H&M before grabbing lunch, and somehow managed to lose track of one another almost immediately. My Las Vegas roommate and I checked each of the four (!) floors several times before our hangry-ness (or is it hanger?) got the best of us and we went off in search of food, figuring that our NYC roomie had done the same. 

We found a café tucked off the main street, where I ordered a Radler and, of course, a Wienerschnitzel. My roommate ordered ghoulash and tap water, but somehow ended up with an extra empty plate instead of a glass of water. I don't think German was our waiter's first language, either. 

Upon returning to the hostel, we found that there was a guy sleeping in the previously-unoccupied fourth bed in our all-girls' room. We went to the incredibly unhelpful staff at reception, who claimed that there was nothing that they could do, and in fact seemed to deny that there was even a problem. It was only after asking to speak to a manager (who, conveniently wouldn't be in until the next morning) and starting to complain about the bedbugs issue in a slightly raised voice that we finally got some results. 

I'm getting real tired of hostel staff, real quick.

Our third roommate now found (we still aren't quite sure how we managed to lose one another), we headed to the hostel bar, where we amused ourselves for several hours by swapping hostel horror stories and inventing elaborate backstories for everyone else in the bar. 

Vienna, it's been...well, it's been interesting.

On to Salzburg!