Dreaming of Lac Leman

I’m sick. Not the ‘I have a bit of a headache and sneezed a couple of times this morning’ kind of sick. Well, that technically wouldn’t be incorrect. But, right now, I’m talking about the ‘my head is thirty degrees hotter than the rest of my body, and I’m really glad I bought three boxes of tissues yesterday’ kind of sick. You’d think five litres of water, honey, Lemsip, Panadol, fresh oranges and twenty-two hours sleep in the past twenty-four would help, right? But no, I still managed to miss a morning of uni and a class excursion to eat cheese fondue. CHEESE FONDUE! And being angry only makes my headache worse. 

Maybe I should have taken it easier this first week, but even now, sick in bed, I know I wouldn’t have done it any other way...

When Lac Leman is practically at your door step, it’s hard to resist pulling on your boots and going for a walk by the water. In fact, it is usually too hard to resist. 

Dawn: As the sun creeps slowly over the Alps, everything is tinted by pastel hues. Mist swirls over the lake and obscures the horizon, entrancing and mysterious. It’s almost too easy to believe that the faint splash heard in the distance was made by a mermaid’s tail. 

Morning: The delicious bite of the crisp winter air. I can only relate the sensation to sinking my teeth into a cold, crunchy apple – Pink Lady, to be precise. Rays of sunlight dance across the lake’s surface. The enticing perfume of fresh coffee and croissants from nearby boulangerie stalls lighten my purse.

Midday: The town of Ouchy, with its quaint little bridges and water features, is home to the Port of Lausanne and a wonderful crêperie. Try the crêpes with raspberry jam, or the local specialty Crêpe à la Raisinée. I did, and they made me very happy.

Afternoon: The sunset is spectacular. Every photo taken here is postcard-worthy. The swans are also out to play, but all dressed in white. Ironically, they seem to possess a much fiercer nature than the black ones in Australia. A final glance over the silhouettes of hundreds of sailboat masts against the flaming sky. Magnifique.

So, this is why I have found it so difficult to stay in my apartment!

I will write more about my Swiss adventures next time, dear reader, but now, it’s time to return to my koala-inspired lifestyle... Good night!

A Taste of Beauty

I have finally finished my homework, put my washing in the dryer, and made myself a steaming cup of chai tea with honey. Now, where do I begin?

It has been ten days since I landed on Swiss soil. Jet lag? A little. Snow? Not yet. New friends? Many. Chocolate? A lot!

For the first three weeks, I am taking the Cours de Vacances – an intensive winter language course – at the University of Lausanne (more affectionately known as l’Unil). Along with hundreds of other students, young and old, from Brazil to Korea and Russia to South Africa, I am diving beanie-first into the nuances and intricacies of the French language.

Living in a French-speaking environment has its advantages...and also its difficulties. Sure, it’s exhilarating and confidence-boosting to be able to ask for (and comprehend) directions from a policeman in French. And I love leisurely surfing the French channels on TV. But at the same time, asking the cashier to repeat the sum slowly while rummaging through foreign coins doesn’t make me very popular with local customers!

A few things I have already grown to love about Switzerland?

The precision (unsurprisingly). It is not a stereotype; it is a fact. A bus is “late” if it arrives two minutes behind schedule. No need to fear frostbite here! 

The chocolate. It’s true, even the Swiss “Black & Gold” equivalent is better than Cadbury’s...and much cheaper. Great news for my taste buds, but not so good for my weight!

And the signs. On bus stops, in front of shops, by the road, on top of buildings... In fact, my new favourite pastime on the bus and metro is trying to read every sign we pass. No, not simply reading – savouring. Devouring. Rolling the words around on my tongue, tasting the sounds, hearing the colours they create. A delicious melange of senses that swirl together to create this beautiful language. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if I have read these signs aloud once or twice...but that doesn’t bother me much. It would be as if I accidentally began singing out loud, or started dancing in the street. It is simply an expression of joy and an appreciation for beauty. And that could never be a bad thing.