Thursday, February 3- Sunday, February 6
Here we are in Interlaken, Switzerland, walking through a field outside our hostel. The cars passing by were honking and waving at us. How sweet, we thought, they are all so friendly! Not exactly. A couple minutes into the walk we realized something was not right. It smelled like poo. Horse poo, maybe even cow poo.
Putting two and two together, we decided the people passing by us were honking because they were trying to warn us not to walk through the fields being fertilized with poo during the winter season. Oh geez, how embarrassing! You live and you learn. (This phrase has become our adopted motto.)
As 6:30 on Friday night rounded the corner, we napped, showered, and bundled up in anticipation of our very first Switzerland activity... night sledding through the Alps! We were under the impression that we had to get our snow boots before we got on the bus. The six of us (Me, Molly, Maggie, Ali, Amanda, and Lindsay) hustled down the street to get back in time for the bus. We had about five minutes to spare before pick up time, so we decided to pick up the pace on the way home. Running in snow boots a size too big is no easy feat. We looked like a flock of idiots, waddling down a Switzerland road in our puffy jackets and clunky boots. The bus picked us up and as we piled in, winded and red cheeked, we were told the bus would be going to go to Outdoor Interlaken, the local ski and snow rental joint, before we headed up the mountain. Is that some sort of sick joke?
That is the exact place we just spent the last 15 minutes running to and from. God, being the prankster He usually is, was helping us burn off the cheese fondue and beer calories we would later be eating.
Through the foggy bus windows, we saw outlines of mountains and trees under a blanket of the brightest stars I've ever seen. I'm not going to lie; the bus ride was nerve racking. It was full of twists and turns on an icy curve through the mountain. The guides must know the road well because they were flying through it. Nothing compared to the ski lift ride to the very top of the mountain. Holy hell. Eight people crammed into a 3x5 fiberglass box hundreds of feet above the ground traveling slowly on a turbulent cable line up the side of the Swiss Alps. No thank you, check please!
We got our sleds and after a quick walk and even quicker instructional demonstration, we began our trip down the mountain. This was not your mama's sledding run- one hour full of sharp turns down an icy slope lit only by the night's natural light with an intimidating drop at the edge of a mountain. It was amazing. We were screaming and laughing and having a blast.
One of us would go shooting by, usually Molly, and someone would scream out to her. I would recognize the voice and yell to let them that I was right behind them. Someone else would hear me and say they were right behind me... and so on and so forth.
We did a pretty good job staying in a pack down the mountain. I can't help but laugh thinking about what we must have looked like. Needless to say the scenery was gorgeous. The home stretch led straight to a small, cozy restaurant nestled on the side of the mountain.
We ate cheese fondue and a traditional Swiss dish, Rosti, made of hash browns with a fried egg on top. The pitchers of Swiss beer were a fabulous addition. After, as we headed down the mountain, we all reflected on just how amazingly wild night sledding was. I don't think I can say it often enough; I am a very lucky girl.
If you're reading this, thanks Mom! Love you dearly and wish you could have been there! Well, maybe not, I'm pretty sure your howling laugh would have started an avalanche.
Today, Saturday, a group of us took the bus to Zurich. The city of Zurich is beautiful. It boasts Georgetown-esque cobblestone streets lined with boutiques and delicious restaurants. First, we stopped in a chocolate shop to sample the local treats and famous Swiss masterpieces. I ordered three small truffles- champagne, milk chocolate praline, and white chocolate. Yum! Then we went to a famous Beer Hall. Amanda and I split a huge sausage with onion sauce and spicy mustard!
It was the most absolutely crazy, fabulously life-changing, delicious world's #1 sausage. Ten pounds heavier, we all left to climb the numerous steps up the local church. Maggie, claustrophobic, opted out after the first flight of stairs. Inside there were the most colorful stain glass windows. The view from the top was breathtaking and well worth the intense trek up a winding stone stairway.
Ali, Amanda, Molly, and I went paragliding this Sunday. Our friends did it earlier this weekend and said it was so fun! Held by a wide parachute, you navigate eight hundred meters high in the sky over snowy mountains and clear waters, landing gently in a sprawling meadow. Hahahaha, I can't even take myself seriously anymore.
Final Update: My paragliding guide was named Dom. He is not much older than us and was born and raised in Interlaken, Switzerland.
Why didn't I take the beanie he gave me off for this picture? I don't know.
