The last time we were in Switzerland was three whirlwind days sixteen years ago, which makes this trip a weird bookend to a thoroughly emotionally complicated month of May. Aside from the trains in and out and the scenic run to Montreaux and back in a day, we were entirely in the Berner Oberland and mostly in Mürren – which we did visit again, but this time as part of two weeks through Lugano, Luzern, Bern and Wengen. We saw the top of the Jungfraujoch in person on a sunny day. We took the train from Grutschalp to Murren and hiked down to Gimmelwald on a sunny day. We rode bikes a good twenty kilometers plus from Murten on a sunny day and saw a two thousand year old amphitheater on the edge of a medieval village.
If it sounds like there’s a theme here, there is. The monkey-paw wish for a clear day in Zermatt to see the Matterhorn came true, accompanied by a heat wave for the ages. I packed for a mean daily temperature a good 10 degrees Celsuis closer than what we experienced, and actually had to buy a couple of short-sleeve shirts in Bern to make up for the fact that I couldn’t layer undershirts or count on my fleece or quarter-zip. And it drove home my biggest problem with Europe: yes trains everywhere, yes a committment to democracy despite the state of the world, yes beautiful old towns and old world charm, but try getting more than 12 ounces of soda at once or getting any ice at all in it. Given how successful our use of a day pack was, I think I could (and should) have brought a bigger Yeti than 12 ouces for ice on the run during the day. The 18 oz bottle is back on the menu for the next trip, wherever and whenever that happens to be.
And that’s kind of up in the air, things being how they are. The world has gone shit-shaped and America is the biggest culprit, and even if we can afford a big trip next year it’s not unreasonable to worry about how we’ll be received. Everyone in Switzerland was…well, it wasn’t Ireland. Toward the end of the trip I saw a post on Bluesky that called it “the Marin County of Europe” and the precision and accuracy of that remark made my wife laugh out loud. Don’t get me wrong, we had a great time and enjoyed it, but we were also happier than usual to be heading home (the heat is the biggest part of that, certainly, but not the only part) and it did rather feel like we don’t need to hurry back. One of the nice things about living in California is that we have mountains at home, and the mountains at home are in Tahoe and Yosemite.
But it was also a reminder that I miss the simple things. My own bed (everything in Switzerland was firm to the point of Spartan). The feel of the 20 oz Yeti’s stone texture in one hand. The use of something other than the phone for every bit of reading or Intenet access. The ordinary pleasures of the life we’ve painstakingly assembled for ourselves over the last five years while the world burns itself down rather than turn away from the flames. There are other things, not for discussion here yet (if ever), that suggest the future still has hope, if we only live to see it through. And in a dark living room, looking out the back window to the sun on the palm tree, the gift is living in the moment and appreciating what we have around us. There’ll be time for work tomorrow.