Trippin'

The "Bern Bear", canton emblem Rooftop view from the cathedral--doesn't nearly do it justice!
Les filles
Bears in a bear pit

Saturday morning through Sunday night was devoted to travelling and seeing Switzerland. The cities we hit were Bern, the capital, and Luzern, a medieval town in the midst of the mountains and next to a beautiful lake. Words can hardly express the beauty, history and quaintness of everything seen and experienced, though I can recap some of the highlights. For Bern, the weather was warm, crisp and gorgeous, the perfect day for walking and site seeing. The streets were uneven cobble stone, along with the rows of houses and their rooftops which just never quite met at a right angle, yet were orderly in that uniquely (Swiss) German way. An amazing Gothic cathedral dominated the city-scape, with a breathtaking view of the rooftop terraces to reward the 400 plus steps you climbed to reach the top. The clock which supposedly spurred Einstein's development of the theory of relativity was an impressive structure, but wholly anti-climatic in its hourly chime (no cuckoos, booohoo).

More random highlights from Bern included the ascent to the Rosengarten, where we crossed path with thousands of (really cute) goats being led to high pastures, the only caveat being the plethora of tiny piles of goat poo that are surely forever embedded in my shoes. In the rose gardens we were attempting to take a photo of ourselves, when a (cute) guy offered to take it for us. This inital 5 second exchange turned into a half hour conversation with him and his friend, both adorable even if reeking of alcohol and still in their going out clothes from the night before, and ended in plans to meet in Luzern later that night.

Very appropriately, Bern ended with a visit to the bear pits. Exactly as they are described, sunken cement pits where bears roam and are gawked at by tourists. The bears looked so resigned and so tranquil, I pondered aloud," what would happen if you fell into the pits?" Mel, my pink-haired engineer friend replied, "they'd probably play with you!" Au contraire. This morning Julie informed me that last year, a man committed suicide by jumping into the pits and being mauled to his death by the bears. Sidethought: am really thinking of sending a picture of the bear pits, the official emblem of Bern (a bear, of course), and the bear-suicide story to Stehpen Colbert for a nasty Halloween fright. Maybe I'd even get the Swiss capitol relegated to the "wag of the finger" side of wag of the finger/tip of the hat. Just a thought.....

That night we hopped on a train to Luzern, checked into our hostel, and met up with Alex, the guy from the Rose gardens, and his friends. They were all dressed nicely, and probably had been planning on going to a club or bar, but upon first sight our intense backpacker scrubbiness immediately deterred them from attempting t0 go anywhere even semi-classy. So instead we took wine, beer, and of course my pink nalgene bottle filled whiskey and diet coke, and sat on a bench by the lake and talked. We recounted our tales of "au pairing," crazy families, and school aged kids expecting someone to wipe their ass for them. They talked about their perceptions of America and Americans: how friends that have visited say that everyone is so fat, "like over 300 kilos!," of how much they hate "BUUUSH," and asking us to please make sure that he doesn't stay in office any longer. Not a late or crazy night, but the whole experience of meeting random people in a park, then meeting up and drinking with them while learning about a different culture is the epitome of backpacking. Très agréable, in my opinion.

Unfortunately the next morning we woke up to a steady drizzle of rain, and clouds blocking the view of the mountains. But still we forged (dragged) on to see a museum with lots of Picasso's work, a famous bridge with painted panels in the roof (described to us by one of our new friends as, "the one that all the Japanese tourists take pictures of"), 3 gorgeous churches, and the medieval city wall and Ramparts. By 6:55, when the train departed, we were all thoroughly exhausted and content at seeing two amazing cities in 2 days.

On the train ride home, we kicked up our smelly feet for an hour or so, but eventually had to let some people sit down next to us. Luckily they were cool and French speaking, busting out meat, cheese and wine, and evident "joie de vivre." Mel and I are both obsessed with learning/speaking/listening to French as much as possible, so we eavesdropped into their conversation, then decided to join the locals and polish off the rest of our bottle of wine, thus bidding santé (cheers) to well-spent weekend.