Switzerland: Stretching the Mangrove Roots

On January 28^th, at roughly 10:45pm, I took my first steps toward Switzerland. 

After a traditional last stop at McDonald’s with the boy (we’re a classy couple), our glorious three months of summer holidays had come to an end. Walking through the international departures gate with a brave smile, I felt a sense of independence like I had never known. But not in that clichéd, “cue orchestra” sort of way. No, I wasn’t the heroine of some Hollywood movie. I felt scared and alone; walking away from everything I knew and loved. At that moment, the thought of spending six months in a land where I didn’t know a soul and was hardly confident in the language loomed over me like...well, the Alps!

It’s hard to believe that was only three days ago.

Since then, I have walked across the tarmac in Qatar, watched a sunset from Zurich to Lausanne, lugged a suitcase up five flights of stairs, looked over the entire city from a cathedral, eaten a chocolate croissant and spoken more French than I did in all my high school years combined.

My twenty one hour flight passed quickly with the help of seven movies, three (surprisingly good) airplane meals and a comfy neck pillow. The French version of The Aristocats – Les Aristochats – was enchanting and Never Let Me Go left me in a bawling, blubbering mess, much to the horror of my fellow passengers.

By pure chance, I met a lovely girl on the train from Zurich airport who, despite being Australian, had a long conversation with me in French as we traversed the beautiful Swiss countryside. Before she left, she gave me some survival tips and a bar of Toblerone, then continued on her way home to Perth via Paris.

After that, helping hands appeared everywhere. 

A fellow student from my old university staying in the same residence college cooked me dinner. She also gave me a pillow, a blanket, sheets, towels and food for the morning. My Canadian roommate helped me set up my internet, lent me his power adapter, then proceeded to show me around the city and cook me crepes. My Swiss buddy, assigned to me through the university, spoke patiently to me in French and spent hours helping me buy a phone card and groceries... And of course, there is also the wonderful emotional support from the boy half way across the world (Skype is gold).

I’ve never been religious, yet I can’t help but feel like someone is watching over me. Wouldn’t you, dear reader, with all these angels around?

Now, I am typing to you from my neat little apartment in the canton of Lausanne that I share with four others. It is a two minute walk from the picturesque Lac Leman, across which the Alps and the lights of France are clearly visible. Cobblestone streets lined with quaint patisseries and designer boutiques wind upward from the lake, peaking at the magnificent Cathédrale de Lausanne overlooking the entire city. With sights like these, it’s hard to even complain about the cold!

Yep, I think I’m in love...