One more day in paradise

Friday (March 23) was our last day in Santorini. I'd call it bittersweet, but I can't think of a reason anyone would ever leave this place.

I woke up early to see the sunrise with Bethany after failing to do so every other morning of the week. We sat on the ledge of our balcony huddled in blankets and watched the day begin in silence. It was so peaceful.

Once the sun was well above the clouds and I was sufficiently cold, I hopped down from the wall and slipped inside. Bethany crawled back into bed, but I had plans. Or rather, I had a mission: find the red beach. We had failed miserably at this task earlier in the week, and I just couldn't leave without getting to see it! Erika planned to meet me a little after 7 a.m. so we could explore. My preparations for the day woke up Amy about 5 minutes before I was supposed to leave. She stirred awake and asked how much time she'd have if she wanted to join. She threw her stuff together and followed me out to the ATVs.
Just as we were walking out, Erika came around the bend with Kelsey on the back of her four-wheeler. So two became four and we set out to find the beach.

It was a chilly morning to begin with, so once we started zipping along the island I was practically shivering.

As a navigator who left the map in the hotel, I was left with gut instincts to get us to the southern end of the island. I think we took a couple of extra roads and detours, but I got us there relatively promptly.

Once we reached the area of Akrotiri, I followed signs to the Red Beach. I was a little nervous since that was exactly how we tried to find it last time, but I had since found out the place where we gave up our hunt last time was right around the corner from the beach. We weaved back and forth along a narrow road and this time took the right path at the fork. We were in the right spot in less than two minutes. I couldn’t believe we were so close yet so far last time.

We parked our ATVs and began to climb a narrow path at the end of the parking lot. Just around the bend the red beach beamed at us. Although I’ve never opened a treasure chest of gold, I imagine the feeling would be equally as victorious and satisfying as seeing this:

I led us down a gravel path, sliding more than actually walking. Kelsey was only wearing flip flops, so about halfway down she decided to turn around. Amy, Erika and I kept going. We climbed up again, this time over large boulders, and back down again. We were finally standing on the red beach!

I looked back and yelled to Kelsey, point out a different path she could take. Erika, Amy and I sat down and threw rocks into the sea as we chatted about our trip.

After a while, we realized Kelsey wasn't coming to meet us. We walked farther along the beach. A tall cliff towered above us to the left. There were several out-of-place doors along the base. They made me anxious for some reason.

Amy ran over to peek inside the tiny dwellings. She backed up and gasped.

"Oh God. What's in there?!?"

She paused before uttering in complete shock, "a kitchen!" I looked in the next one and the one after that, and sure enough they looked like fairly modern quarters that had been abandoned for a few months. Most had construction equipment inside.

Photo by Amy

Erika and I sat on the beach as Amy ran farther down and climbed around on some rocks and a little building. Just the usual.

We didn't have a whole lot of time there. The idea was more to just see it than actually spend a day there. We had bigger plans for the rest of the afternoon. We summoned Amy and headed back to the ATVs, where Kelsey was waiting patiently. With the sun much higher in the sky, the beach was showing its true colors. The red was glorious.

We rode back to Fira to Erika, Yelena and Kelsey's place. They had to pack up, so Amy and I walked up the street to get a crepe. I don't know why I haven't been eating them all semester. We split a nutella strawberry one. Yum Yum Yum!

We waited by the ATV place until the other four girls arrived. We couldn't return them without all of us there. I started to get anxious as it neared 10:30 a.m. We had to be down by the Old Port by 11 a.m. to catch our boat. We saw Erika, Kelsey and Yelena across the street getting breakfast. Amy talked to them while I paced back and forth waiting for Caitlin, Bethany, Jess and Kate. They showed up eventually. It turned out Squirt ran out of gas and they had to push our little yellow ATV to a gas station.

We ran/walked all the way down the donkey path to the Old Port, where an old wooden boat was waiting for us. We clambered on, claimed our seats and turned around to see where we were headed: the volcano!

The ride was short, but beautiful. We looked back to see the Caldera from afar. We could see the donkey path zigzag down the steep incline. It looks even more intense from this viewpoint..

Soon the water beneath us turned from a blue to a startling green. We pulled up and docked next two other boats. The crew led us over and though the other two ships and onto land. We had an hour and a half to explore, so up we went!

A couple of benches and two straw umbrellas sat at the first fork in the path. People seemed pretty evenly split on which way they took. We settled on left.

The black lava rock crunched beneath my sandals. Red and green lined the sides of the narrow paths. I never expected a volcano to be bursting with this much color.

The higher we got, the more we started to see of the sea. It only added to the vividness. Every time I thought to myself, “It doesn’t get better than this,” it did. Just a few more minutes. It always did.

Kate, Bethany and Caitlin disappeared ahead of us around one of the very first twists in the path. This didn’t surprise me with Kate the explorer leading the pack. Jess, Amy and I took our time and reached the top in about 40 minutes.

Of course I made someone take the usual picture:

There were all kinds of rocks people had stacked on top of one another. It reminded me of Ruby Beach, Wash., where I went with my family a couple of summers ago.

We wandered around the edge of the crater. It's hard to believe the power the earth holds right beneath my feet. 

From the far side of the crater we could see the hot springs tucked between where we were and a smaller island of volcanic rock. We were headed to that teal strip of water next!

A little further around the edge I saw a round, squat cement cylinder post. I had seen this a couple of other places but didn't know what it was. When we were out by the lighthouse Wednesday there was one on top of one of the tall cliffs. I didn't have the guts to climb on top of it there, or really I was smart enough not to, but I couldn't resist sitting on this one.

It was windy, but beautiful. Jess passed my camera to me so I could take a picture of my view. I rotated around to get a full 360, but this is one of my favorites. You can see the crater, the colors, the lava rock, the sea and Fira along the edge of Santorini in the distance.

We finished our loop around the crater and took a few more pictures before walking back down.

I hadn't really paid attention to how dusty the walk was, but I started to feel how grimy I was as I watched small clouds puff up under Jessica's feet in front of me.

We got back to the boat almost exactly on time, followed closely by the last people left on the volcano. We pulled out and rounded the island to the hot springs!
Caitlin wanted nothing more than to swim in them. The woman who sold us the tickets the day before warned us that we'd have to swim through cold water to get to them. Now it was nice out, but certainly not swimming weather. We all knew we were pretending it was warmer than it actually was, but no one spoke this truth.
Caitlin and I were committed to the swim. "If not now, when?" Besides, it was only about 20 meters in cold water to get to the springs. Jess and Bethany seemed ready, but nervous for the cold. Amy didn't have a swimsuit and was therefore the designated guard of our belongings. Kate was terrified she'd just jump in, freeze/panic and sink to the bottom. We did our best to get her excited.
An older couple sitting across from us was going to do it. If they can do it, we certainly can! The boat anchored about 20 meters from the entrance to the hot springs as promised. The man of the aforementioned couple started to get ready, disrobing to his swimming trunks. His wife apparently hadn't known about the 20-meter swim and started to get cold feet. He talked her into it as we continued to do the same for Kate.
A couple of other tourists had already jumped in, but about 75 percent of the boat sat in their warm clothes without any sign of moving.
Well, this is it, I thought. "Guys. Now. Let's do it."
I took off my shirt, took several determined steps toward the edge and jumped right in without another thought. I approached it with the same attitude as I did when hurling myself into a canyon in Switzerland. If I did that in below zero temperatures, I certainly shouldn't have any issues with the Aegean Sea.
Ha.
I had just thrown myself into an icebox. This is not Greece. I am in Antartica. I am a penguin.
My entire body went tense. Crap. Kate's not going to be the one to panic and sink like a pathetic rock. I am! Focus Lydia. Focus. Move your arms. Swim. Your legs too.
I started to paddle with a stroke that can only be described as a cross between a dog and a frog.
Out of nowhere, Kate came up next to me. She propelled herself past me with flawless form. I hadn't even heard her jump in behind me. She looked like she had been swimming all her life.
Excuse me, but what? 
I pulled it together and started to swim. As I scooped water behind me, I could feel small hard things brushing against my arms, hands and shoulders. We still don't know what it was, and I think I'd prefer to keep it that way. Jess swears something bit her. I swallowed more water than I pushed behind me, but eventually I made it to the springs. I was kicking when I thrust my foot hard against a rock on the bottom. I tried to stand and walk the rest of the way, but the air started to feel colder than the water and the rocks were slippery.
I practically crawled the rest of the way through the water to meet Kate.
"Kate! What the hell was that?"
"I don't know! I panicked, and I didn't want to look dumb to all the tourists on the boat so I got to warmth as fast as I could."
I just shook my head and laughed.

Photo by Amy. She said tourists were laughing at us and taking pictures as we froze. I'm sure they thought we were idiots. I don't blame them. I'm in the front and Kate's jumping in behind me.

Jess, Caitlin and Bethany trickled in behind us, shivering. We moved farther into the "hot springs." I wasn't a huge fan of them. The bottom was about 6 inches of mushy goop. There were weird mud clumps and clear jelly-like floaties circling us. I twisted my arms around me wildly the whole time to keep them away from me. I don't like not knowing what's all over me.
It was significantly warmer than the sea. I'll give the springs that much, but it's not a lot. It was more like patches of luke warm water. I'm sure it would be better in the summer.
We didn't have a whole lot of time, so after about 10 minutes we headed back. Even though I was going from warm to cold, I was more prepared for the swim this time. It didn't feel like it took quite as long. We climbed up and huddled in towels.

I warmed up surprisingly fast and ended up giving my towel to Jess and Kate, who were shivering wildly.

…. Our boat dropped us back off at the Old Port. We were immediately swarmed by people offering donkey rides back up to Fira. We declined. No one wanted to do it again, and I certainly wasn’t getting on a donkey again after the previous day’s allergy nightmare.

We all decided we'd rather just take the cable car up. It was only €4. Kate was going to walk, but I just bought her ticket. There was no point in any of us hiking up that disgusting path. We had about half an hour before the next one went up the lift, so we just sat in the sun drying out and wiping salt from our eyelids and elbows. Yes, in the short swim salt had collected in the creases of our eyelids and all other places. The entire half hour we waited there, one very persistant donkey man continued to pester us.

"Donkey? Donkey? Donkey? Up! Donkey! Donkey!"

"No grazie"

"Ohh... donkey?......... donkey?"

He reminded me of the seagulls in Finding Nemo. "Mine? Mine?"

He didn't give up until we were walking into the cable car ticket office. I applaud your persistance.

The view on the way up was really pretty — although I doubt you could find a bad view if you tried in Santorini. Even what's blocking what you want to see is probably worth looking at.

At the top we wandered through shops buying our final souvenirs. I still can't believe how many I bought here. We made our way back to the center of town. We all got gyros for a late lunch. I'm getting hungry for one now just typing it. It was absolutely delicious. Bethany and I walked up the street in search of gelato, but returned with frozen Greek yogurt instead. I certainly wasn't upset about it.

I got one with walnuts and chocolate syrup. It was delicious!

We went across the street to an internet cafe so we could check in online and print off boarding passes for our flight the next day. It took several trips downstairs to buy more internet time, and a lot of frustration, but after about 45 minutes we were successful. 

We split up a little bit to walk around and shop more. Jess and Kate went off on their own, and the rest of us hung out together.
While Caitlin, Bethany and Amy were still in a shop, I wandered out and along the edge of the city. I looked out over the water at the volcano we climbed earlier. Behind it to the left I could see the tip of the island where Kate, Jess and I had climbed down the rocks and cliffs. To the right (a little out of the picture) was Oia where we had seen the sunset the night before.

I absolutely love this island.

I found Amy, Caitlin and Bethany and we kept shopping. I had two more things I really wanted to get: 

1. Something with my name written in Greek

2. Necklace with lava stones and the blue and white charm used to ward off evil.

I never did get my name in Greek, and I almost thought I wouldn't get the necklace either. Just before we went back to meet with Jess and Kate, or as they should be called Jate, I found a jewelry shop. I asked the shopkeeper if she had anything with the charm I was looking for. She started showing me €100+ necklaces.
"I'm looking in the less than €20 range," I told her.
"Ahhh. OK."
She showed me a glass case of simple pendants — just what I was looking for. I found one I liked for €8. I was hoping she'd give me some sort of chain with it, but she did one better. She handed me a small box of beads and told me to make my own pattern.
Bethany helped me find some lava beads and set out my perfect necklace! She made it for me really fast. Total: €15. Perfection.

We found Jate and headed home. On the walk, we realized we had never tried baklava! This was unacceptable, so when we got back I went and asked Poppy if we could order it for delivery. It wasn't a problem. She helped me call, and I threw in some stuffed vine leaves just for the fun of it. Bethany and I had been eyeing them earlier in the week and said we'd try them at some point. 

In about ten minutes, a man knocked on our door with our food. Surprisingly fast, especially in Greece.

The vine leaves were so good. Caitlin said the restaurant where she works makes some pretty good ones and she'll have to take me there. I'm going to hold her to that.

The Baklava was huge. and very very sweet.

We relaxed and packed for the rest of the night. At some point in the evening, I stepped outside for a little bit to walk around and take pictures. I sat out by the pool for a while in complete bliss.

I absolutely love Greece.






Saturday we had an 8:25 a.m. flight. The same guy who drove us from the airport would give us a ride back to it. He assured us that leaving by 7:30 a.m. would be plenty of time, but I was pretty anxious. We all were. We ended up outside with our bags ready around 7:15 a.m. He came out soon after. "Now? OK!" He lifted our bags into the back as we piled into the van.
After a short ride to the airport, we thanked him and said our goodbyes.
Our flight to Athens seemed to be the only one leaving from the tiny airport. We waited in line for a while to check in. I felt like things were moving oddly slow. Caitlin, Amy, Bethany and Kate checked in before Jess and I. They went over to scan their bags and then headed to security. Jess and I dragged ours over to the belt for checked bags and waited for someone to scan our bags. And waited. And waited. A line began to form behind us. Soon a security man came running from the other end of the airport, which was really probably as long as our swim to the hotsprings. He silently began the machine and our bags disappeared under black rubber flaps. We shrugged and headed over to security to get into the terminal, where we waited again. Then it dawned on me. This airport has one security officer. One.
"Jess. How much do you want to bet that guy who checked our bags runs over here in 5 minutes to do gate security?"
He did. Now that is the definition of a small airport. We waited for a few minutes at what seemed to be the only terminal (I believe there were two), before lining up to go outside onto a bus. We shuffled forward and look who was there taking our tickets! The same woman who checked us in around front.
Two employees to run the airport. Plus two to stand around in the snack stand. I could hardly contain my laughter.

The flight was quick and uneventful, other than the sighting of this island that looks like a goat:

Less than half an hour later, we were landing in Athens.

Airplane-window photography. Athens.

We had to pick up our bags here. Since we didn't book our flights together, we couldn't check our luggage all the way through to our final destination. So we grabbed our bags and headed upstairs to check in again. Our next flight wasn't for another five hours. Kate and Caitlin's layover was worse: nine hours. It was a little too early to check in, so we headed outside to wait.

We spent the next hour or two playing Charades, Simon Says and a little bit of Karaoke. Jate showed us the secret handshake they had apparently spent the week perfecting. Everyone walking past either laughed at or with us. It was fantastic. 

After a while we headed inside and checked our bags. Kate and Caitlin still had to hang on to theirs. We looked at the shops in the airport mall for a while, and I ended up buying a slice of Dominos Pizza. I am ashamed. I didn't want to be buying American fast food while I was here, but it was honestly the cheapest thing I could find. What can I say? It happens to the best of us.

As does illness, apparently. Friday night I started feeling a little bit of a tickle in my throat after jumping into the sea. It was sore in the morning, but the copious amount of water and a smoothie I had downed wasn't doing anything. I bought a couple boxes of halls and popped them for the rest of the day.

It was getting close to our boarding time, so Amy, Jess, Bethany and I headed to our gate. Bethany felt so guilty leaving Caitlin and Kate there. They were flying into Rome and taking the train to Florence Sunday morning. I'm not sure why she was so torn up about leaving them for less than 24 hours. I suppose we had spent all day every day together for the past week.

We said our goodbyes, went through security and boarded our Swiss Air flight to Zurich. I want to fly with them again just so I can get more complementary Swiss chocolate. 

We had a layover in Zurich, and the final leg of the flight was also Swiss air. Two free chocolate bars!

While in Greece, I had decided I wanted to get a flag from each country I visited. Not a little souvenir flag, but a giant one I could hang on my wall at home. In total I would be seeing four countries this semester: Italy, Switzerland, Greece and the UK.

I was pretty disappointed that I had decided this after I went to Switzerland, so when I realized that's where our layover was, I made it my mission to find a flag. I figured I wouldn't be able to, but Amy helped me find one!

Even though it was sad to leave Greece, I'd say charades, free chocolate, a Swiss flag and this view from the plane add up to an all around good day. 

Plus it was nice to get home.

But just as I said after Switzerland..... until next time, Greece. I refuse to say goodbye.
This does not count as our next meeting, Switzerland)

I swear I'll be back to both.

Diversity Diary #2

Note: I am catching up on posting these diversity diaries. I apologize that this comes so much after I actually visited Switzerland.

A couple of good friends who studied abroad through the Florence program before prepared me for most of the cultural differences I've encountered thus far.
Last weekend when I traveled to Switzerland, I didn't even consider what cultural differences I might find. It's amazing the change in environment and personalities an eight-hour drive can bring.
The first sign I was somewhere entirely new was the driving. As I mentioned before, Italian drivers aren't the most courteous motorists. So when I needed to cross a traffic circle in Interlaken, I stood patiently, expecting to wait for every car to clear out. Much to my surprise, the very first car slowed to a stop and waved me across — as did the next, and the one after that and every car at every intersection for the entire weekend. And every time I was flattered, overjoyed and still shocked at their kindness. It didn't get old.
That wasn't the only difference.
In Italy, Americans are either welcomed or scoffed at. It's one or the other, and some days I run into a lot of the latter. As soon as they realize I'm an American, which doesn't take long despite my keeping up in Italian, they respond in English — or rather they spit English responses at me as if it tastes bad on their tongue.
In Switzerland they don't scoff or mock. They either welcome or ignore Americans — and much more often the former! There's just a general relaxed atmosphere. It's different from Italy in so many more ways than the nature and architecture.
This is not to say Italy is a bad place in any way. Florence and Interlaken just contrast very sharply in ways I didn't expect to find.
I love them both.


Also, in my crowning moment of stupidity for the weekend, the following exchange happened.
Me: How do you say "thank you" in German?
Kind cashier: Danke
Me: Grazie!... erm... Thank you! DANKE! I MEAN DANKE!
She laughed, but with me not at my stupidity. It was a nice change.

I found the greatest place on Earth

Anyone would be hard-pressed to find somewhere better than Interlaken, Switzerland. I dare you to try.
I don't know how, but I vow to myself here and now that I will return someday.

Before I left for Italy, Interlaken wasn't even on my radar. That is until, once again, my mom's slides introduced me to the gorgeous town. When Lauren mentioned her interest in visiting, I was in.
Bad news: It was too cold for me to venture out on a 30 Years Later scavenger hunt.
Good news: I got one without knowing it until just now. I'll post it later
These are a few of my mom's other slides to show you what inspired me to go.

You're supposed to change when you study abroad. This weekend held the first evidence of my evolution.  I don't know if it was a result of this weekend, or if this weekend was just the first time my changes were noticeable.

But from now on, Interlaken holds a special place in my heart.

We took our trip through Bus2Alps, a travel agency for students studying abroad. It cost €208 for a roundtrip bus ride and lodging, which was cheaper than I could find in my attempts to book separately.

We left Thursday at 8 p.m., and after a long, cold and loud bus ride, we got to our hostel Backpacker's Villa at 4:30 a.m.

We woke up around 10:30 the next morning. Before we even got out of bed, our Bus2Alps guide Jill knocked on our door to see if we needed anything for the day. She answered all of our questions and gave us advice on what to do before we even sat up. That's what I call service.

After showering and bundling up, we ventured upstairs and outside around noon. Arriving in the middle of the night didn't give us the chance to see where we were. So when we reached the door and saw a beautiful snowy mountain looming before us, our reaction was a collective (excuse the language) "Holy sh*t." The employees at the desk had a good laugh over that one.

View from front of Backpacker's Villa

We walked aimlessly around town. I finally found boots in my size and snatched them up. We bought some souvenirs and kept wandering. It was freezing, but beautiful.

Jill had mentioned a cafe on the top floor of the highest building in town with a gorgeous view. We weren't really sure we had the right place but walked into the lobby of a tall hotel. We quickly captured the attention of others in the lobby, so confused, we clamored onto an open elevator in hopes that we had the right building.

The top botton said "panoramic restaurant." Success! It was gorgeous, but the falling snow makes the pictures look so grey.
Jess and I split some sort of cream cake. It was delicious.
I got hot chocolate. It was like American hot chocolate, and it was glorious. In Italy, when you ask for hot coco you essentially get hot pudding in a cup. It's bizarre. I was so excited to have my style of hot chocolate... only better. Much better.

That night we went to a chocolate show where a chef showed us how they made true swiss chocolate. It cost 15 franc, but we got a voucher for a good amount of chocolate at the shop on top of the loads of free samples we got. It was cool to see how they made it. I even helped decorate something.

photo by Jess

It was a cold, but pretty night. Winter has always been my favorite season. We've been on the outs for the past couple of years when I had to walk through snow to class every day, but I still have a place for it in my heart. I was actually pretty sad I didn't get to have true winter this year.
This trip was the perfect solution. I got perfect, glistening snow and a couple of brisk winter days without the crummy in-between slushy weather.

Canyon Jumping

Saturday was the day I had been waiting for.
February 4, 2012. The day that would go down in my personal history as the day I flung myself into a canyon.
I had spent the past two weeks watching videos of canyon jumping in Interlaken over and over again. A YouTube search of "canyon jumping Interlaken" yielded me a page of purple links to videos, indicating I've already clicked them all. The first couple I watched gave me a panicky knot in the pit of my stomach. But after I watched three, four, seven, 11, 20 people fall, get caught by the rope and swing, the knot in my core loosened and my excitement climbed.
Strangely, I was hardly nervous at all.
And finally the morning came.

Even as we rode to the canyon that morning, a silly grin grew over my face. The only emotions that registered were eagerness and exhilaration.
Lauren and Jess sat next to me looking as if they were on the way to their executions.

The ride in the shuttle was somewhere between 10 and 30 minutes. I couldn't have kept track if I tried.

We stopped for a quick bathroom break and to look at the scenery. Gorgeous. Just like the rest of Interlaken.

Ziggy's photobomb.

We finally got to where we would be jumping. We could see the platform. 300 feet above the ground at the edge of a canyon. Seeing it up there should have triggered some sort of fear. Still, nothing. Only excited.

We took some pictures before the 15-minute hike to the ledge.

We reached the top of the canyon. I watched Ziggy attach the rope that would pull us through the canyon to its cable.

One of the girls with us read the jump contract aloud before we all signed our lives away. The last line made me laugh. I lied. My mom did know I was there.

As I looked into the canyon, as I stepped into a harness, nerves never registered.

I stood in line for my slot to jump: third in the seven-person group.
Jess asked Ziggy, who was helping us jump, if anyone has ever died. Not sure why she decided that was the appropriate time to ask, but she did.
His response:
"The bad news is you're all going to die. Just not today."
The perfect motto.
I remember watching Erika jump first. I screamed louder than her as I watched her fall, disappear and then reappear swinging on the other end. We were all screaming. One of the other girls went second. I didn't watch as I prepared myself to go next. I showed Jess how to film me and put my glasses into Lauren's purse. I kept checking that my pockets were zipped and my scarf was tucked in tight. I was ready. And still not nervous.

I allowed myself one last look down.

I stepped into the small triangular area for the jumper who's "on deck." I hopped from one foot to another in excitement and to keep warm in the -3°F weather. No nerves.
Ziggy hooked me up with three simple climbers clips and unlatched the rope blocking me from the platform. This was it.

A huge problem I have is that I over-think things. I analyze and scrutinize everything in my life far beyond what is necessary. I hoped to return home after my time abroad being able to just do; to calmly move forward in my life without constantly worrying and surveying the minuscule. I whole-heartedly believe my approach to this jump reflects my newfound ability to do just that.

Ziggy held the rope attached to my stomach out of my way as I stepped onto the platform.
"Can I go?" I asked impatiently as I turned.
"Take a deep breath," he responded and let go of the rope. I felt it pull slightly at my core. Don't think.
I inhaled once, took two deliberate steps forward and launched myself as high as my frozen nubs of feet would push me. And I fell.

There are about four seconds of freefall before the rope catches you and you swing.
The first second was complete excitement and giddiness. My arms were raised high, and I was smiling. Then every nerve I didn't feel before I left the platform hit me fast and hard. "What did you just do, Lydia?" my mind screamed in a panic. I grabbed the rope with both hands. And just as fast as the terror came, it exited. And I was left with two seconds of falling. It was the strangest moment I've ever experienced. I couldn't scream. I didn't feel like I was falling. I just felt suspended in time and space. It was almost zen. I wasn't waiting for the rope to catch. I wasn't scared. I was just there.
It was as brief as it was bizarre.
The rope caught and I swung, completely free. Hands down the best thing I've ever done.

Watch for yourself:

I watched that video at least 20 times that day. We all sat looking at our cameras in awe of what we had just done. I still can't believe I didn't hesitate. I didn't pause or wait. I just went.
If I can do that without freaking out, worrying, analyzing, I can handle anything else life throws my way.
I'm still so proud of myself. Although my parents were both scared for me, they're proud of me too.
My dad now has a photo of me jumping as his desktop background. I might do the same just as a reminder. Jump in. Jump off. Just do.

The rest of the day we floated around on a cloud. Erika, Jess and I took a bus to Thun Lake. We took more of an adventure than we had anticipated, ending up on the other side of the lake on the wrong bus. But we just got coffee and waited for the next one. And repeated ourselves several times "But wait. We did what?"

We got back to the hostel, picked up Lauren and walked to dinner. We had planned to go to a bar afterwards, but once we finished our pizza, we were all too tired. The jump and constantly shivering took it out of us. We went back and crawled into bed at 10:30 p.m., more than happy with our day.


Sunday we had to be back at the hostel to board the bus at 11:30 a.m.
But we still wanted to get our last fix of Switzerland, so we took the bus to Lake Brienz.

I took this at the train station, waiting for the bus to Lake Brienz

Lake Brienz

from Lake Brienz

Then we went back into the city, spent our remaining francs on Swiss chocolates, knowing that however much we would lose in the exchange back to euros warranted more chocolates.

We returned to the hotel, and I reluctantly boarded the bus. They waited for about half an hour to put in a movie so we could enjoy our view out the window. I have to admit, I almost cried both at its beauty and at the fact that I was leaving it.

From the bus window:

Until next time, Interlaken.