Through the Magnifying Glass: Day 5, Switzerland

The obnoxious guys in my room last night turned out to be really nice old men as I woke up to their light demeanor and sweet smiles greeting me in passing. I was glad I didn’t lose my temper on them, however justified as it might have been. 

I was happy to spend money on an Uber again to the airport and was a little more talkative with my driver this time, sharing our love for Bob Marley as “No Woman, No Cry” played. I took in the last views of Madrid that I had missed on my sleepy ride the first day, and was sad to leave, but excited for Switzerland. There’s always a little melancholy when leaving, especially if you enjoyed it enough. I suppose it’s grief in a small way, having to say goodbye and part ways — a small lesson in letting go. 

I knew my suitcase was light enough at the MSP airport, because they didn’t say anything about it being overweight, but I didn’t know exactly how much it weighed. So, I was happy to discover at last just how much it did at the Iberia airline check-in counter. After making the kg to lb conversion, I was happy to discover I had 1.5 lbs to spare, which was more than enough for my souvenir magnets and then some. Although space was still a concern. 

Well aware that I didn’t have breakfast and that it would be at least 1:30 p.m. when we landed in Geneva, I was on a mission to find food after getting through security. I came upon a restaurant with fresh sandwiches in the window. The prosciutto being freshly cut right in front of me should have been my first warning. I waited for the cashier to finish helping someone else before asking how much the sandwiches were (there were no prices listed anywhere that I saw). She was a bit impatient with me as she sharply asked, “Which one?” I suppose it was karma for all those times I stood on the other side of the counter, myself impatient, as customers asked me seemingly dumb questions. I went over to the window with the sandwiches and quickly browsed, all looking mostly the same to me and not knowing what was in others, so I pointed to the simplest-looking one. “17.50,” she said. That was a hard and fast no for me as I was abruptly reminded that airport prices are high no matter where you are in the world, and I saw the understanding in her face as I quickly said, “No, gracias.” 

Putting food on the back burner for now, I approached the departures board and looked for my gate…not available yet. I eyed a comfy-looking couch nearby and spotted outlets, where I sat and charged my devices for a while. In my experience, every percent counts, and you never know when your next charge may be. I got up every once in a while to check the board, memorizing my flight number by the time my gate information finally appeared. It wasn’t far, so I lingered at the charging station long enough to have a fully charged phone before I started for my gate. 

On the way, I spotted another sandwich shop, but this one looked much less fancy. Indeed, it was cheaper by about 7 euros, which ultimately may not seem like a lot, but that’s at least two scoops of gelato on a waffle cone. I was debating between two sandwiches by the time it was my turn. I decided to go with the heartier-looking one and was going to ask for no onions until I saw her pulling the pre-made sandwich out of the window. My awkward jerk reaction made her question me, as any sane person would, and there was a lot of back and forth before I ended up with the other sandwich instead, a simple ham and cheese with no onion. Now traumatized by two sandwich ordering nightmares, I was relieved to have food in hand and never look back. 

I kept an eye out for Maddie and Chyanne, who would be on the same flight as me. They were the ones to invite me to join them in Switzerland. I had hesitated at the cost, but decided it would be worth it. Sure enough, I found Chyanne seated at the gate with all their luggage. I greeted Maddie shortly after she returned from the restroom. As much as I was enjoying solo traveling, it felt really nice to have friends to connect with. We chatted about the books we were reading and the Court of Thorns and Roses series they both had read already and raved about, along with everyone else. I was only just starting the first book, but later, I would lean on them for support and be grateful to have others to rant about the characters with in real time.

We separated again as we boarded our flight and found our seats. I was near the front of the plane in an aisle seat, the window seat next to me empty, until a sweet Peruvian woman in her 60s approached and motioned to the seat next to me with a smile on her face. I smiled back, a silent understanding, as I stood up to let her in and SLAMMED my head into the ceiling. It didn’t hurt, but it was loud enough to cause concern as I bent over, and the sweet lady took me in as her child and rubbed my head as I laughed. We were immediately bonded. She didn’t speak much English, nor I Peruvian Spanish, but we managed to communicate effectively enough with words, gestures, and Google Translate. She continued to check on me and my head throughout the flight, and we said goodbye once we landed, going our separate ways. 

I waited for the girls to deplane, who weren’t lying when they said they were in the back of the plane. I swear Chyanne was the last one off the plane. Together we found our way to baggage claim, where it didn’t take long to collect our luggage. I ran into my Peruvian mother again — literally, as we toppled over each other for our luggage and laughed as we recognized each other again. 

What did take some time was finding our way to our hostel in Gimmelwald. The Omio app we typically used in Spain (an app for booking train, bus, ferry, and plane tickets in Europe) wasn’t giving, as Gen Z would say. So, we downloaded the SBB Mobile app instead, Switzerland’s national railway app. My SBB app wasn’t allowing me to purchase my ticket, but I spotted an SBB ticket machine next to a customer service desk, where I was able to get a paper ticket instead. We were unsure of where the train station was, so I approached the lady at the desk for help. It was here when I realized we were in the French-speaking region of Switzerland — crap. I asked the woman if she spoke English and if she could help us find the train station. Her snotty French-accent reply told me that she only deals with flights and that I would have to speak to the train people for help. I was quickly reminded of how rude and mean the French can be. I don’t like to place stereotypes on people, but in my experience, and everyone else’s that I’ve talked to, they certainly tend to live up to it. Maybe if I spend more time in France, I’ll learn to understand what their deal is and have more compassion for them.

As it turned out, it was quite easy to find the train once we left baggage claim through the exit doors. Thank god for signs and symbols. Although I did have to brush up on some of my French and look up the word for platform (it’s “voie” by the way). 

It felt so good to find our seats on the train, and I was very much looking forward to opening up my airport sandwich at last. I took one bite and realized it was not just ham and cheese; it was ham, cheese, and mushrooms. Don’t get me wrong, between working at a seasonal kitchen and dating outside of my culture, my taste buds have definitely expanded over the years, but there is something about mushrooms that I just haven’t fully grasped yet. I don’t mind if they are chopped up enough to get rid of their slimy texture, but these were fully intact shrooms. At the same time, Maddie, the other, even more so, discernible eater, was picking pickles out of her sandwich. Knowing how good mushrooms are for you and knowing how important every nutrient you can get while traveling is, instead of picking them out, especially since they were so embedded in the cheese, I decided to suck it up and try adding Maddie’s pickles to cover the taste. I made it halfway through the sandwich before giving up, no longer being able to disguise the disgust written all over my face. I wrapped up my sandwich, saving it just in case I was desperate enough later to try again, wiped off the crumbs, and pulled out my laptop to start working on the blogs I hadn’t started yet (little did I know just how far behind I was). 

It would take three trains, a bus, and a gondola ride up the mountain to get to our hostel for a total of about four hours travel time altogether. I had taken 10-hour bus rides in the past, so I was actually, rather looking forward to the trip, especially given that it would mostly take place on a train, which is not only more spacious than a bus but less bumpy, as well. 

Three trains later, I was only halfway through my first blog post when we made it to Lauterbrunnen, where a bus would take us to our gondola up the mountain. It was a short ride, and the views were incredible. We had gotten a taste of the mountains on our way into Interlaken and then headed towards Lauterbrunnen, but no one could have prepared us for the waterfalls running off the edges of the mountains here in the valley that inspired Rivendell in The Lord of the Rings. We paused for photos before making our way up the gondola, where the views only got better. My fear of heights (or falling rather) was only slightly triggered, but the gondola was large and secure enough to mostly offset it. Although the thought of the cable snapping still crossed my mind. 

Less than 10 minutes later, we reached the small and remote village of Gimmelwald, a population of 130 nestled in the snow-capped mountain tops, hidden away from the rest of the world. We were up close and personal with the mountains and the clouds that surrounded them. The walls of the mountains swallowed us as they reached for the sky in every direction. It was like looking into a magnifying glass. We were in a different world — their world, where time stood still and the only sounds were distant cowbells and the gravel beneath your feet. The air was lighter, fresher, and even my begrudgingly inherited slim-slitted nostrils couldn’t block the air that flowed so easily, so naturally in and out of my body. Breathing never felt so inherent, so completely cohesive with my being — the way it should be. 

It was the first time I regretted my suitcase. Although our hostel was only steps from the gondola, we had taken the rocky gravel shortcut to the door…uphill. Later, I would have to carry it up a very snug and steep set of stairs to my dorm. The hostel was like walking into a Christmas movie. It was a quaint, homey, snug, and cozy place that also doubled as one of the two eateries in town. Warm string lights lined the short wood-paneled walls that hosted flyers, books, and guitars. The long, candle-lit community tables where folks dined and played games shared space with a library and a couch where travelers lounged with books and laptops. The reception desk also doubled as the bar, and in another room sat more tables and parties engrossed in laughter and conversation. In a way, it was like walking into an Irish pub, the kind you see in movies like “The Holiday” or “P.S. I Love You”. The rooms were not as expected based on the pictures online; The beds were separated by curtains, but ultimately, it was like sharing a really big bed with five strangers. But the view from the room matched the rest of the mountain vibe and made it all worth it.

After shaking off the feeling of claustrophobia and settling in as much as we could, we ventured out into the fresh air again. Next to our hostel was another restaurant and a small shop. We stopped to visit the shop and were somewhat surprised to see it open and full of merchandise, but empty of humans. We realized that it was an honesty shop; you take what you want and are trusted to pay for the items by yourself under no supervision. As it turns out, there were many little self-serving stations around the village, offering things like pastries, milk, and eggs. It filled my heart and warmed my soul, and I wished everywhere could be this way. 

It wouldn’t have taken long to explore the village if it weren’t for the views that drew us in and forced us to stop every 10 yards to soak it all in, not to mention the friendly neighborhood cats that came out to greet us for pets. It was almost harder to pull myself away from them than the mountain views. It was getting dark, however, so we made our way back to the hostel for dinner. 

After studying the menu — and the prices — we all settled on the cheapest option: pizza. It went well with our glass of wine, however. I had a glass of red that I can’t pronounce called Valpolicella Ripasso, but the taste was divine — full-bodied with soft tannins and notes of cherry and plum, with a hint of spice. We sat next to a couple of other girls who were playing Uno, and we joined them while we munched on our pizzas and sipped our wine. They were talking about a hike they were going on tomorrow morning called the Via Ferrata. They only had to mention the foot pegs and sheer drop-offs for me to check out of that conversation, but Chyanne was more than eager to tag along. Maddie was hesitant, but convinced nonetheless. I had them pull up images of the hike to try and convince me, but the photos sealed the deal for me, along with the Google-searched warning that read: The scariest and most challenging hike near Gimmelwald is the Via Ferrata Mürren-Gimmelwald, also known as the Mürren Cliff Walk. This route is a secured climbing path with sheer drop-offs, suspension bridges, ladders, and ropes, and it is recommended for those who are not afraid of heights and have a serious head for heights. No, I was perfectly content with finding something else to satisfy my senses and entertain my time. 

As the girls chatted about the hike, my body started telling me it was time for bed. It had been a long day, and I was ready to shower and climb into bed. Although I wasn’t looking forward to the tight squeeze (I couldn’t even sit up straight on my top bunk), I was surprised at how easily I overcame the claustrophobia and drifted off to sleep by 2 a.m.— a new record.

Travel tips I learned this day:

1. Don’t forget the snacks: I wish I would have loaded up on street food/snacks the day or morning before my flight instead of relying on overpriced airport sandwiches, but I was grateful for the food nonetheless. Just don’t forget the snacks.

2. I recommend downloading the Omio app for trains, buses, ferries, and flights in Europe, Spain in particular. In Switzerland, however, I recommend the SBB Mobile app for train tickets, which also includes gondola and bus tickets when necessary. Although it’s very easy to purchase tickets at the station as well. 

3. There are pros and cons to suitcases — today I learned some of the cons, which included trekking up stairs and gravel hills.