Getting on that train again was like coming home.
The train speaking to me in 3 languages - and I could quote along verbatim - yes, I can tell you where the restaurant carriage is in French.
Smiling and nodding whilst in the French part of Switzerland. It all came back to me: Keep your mouth shut and no one knows you're a foreigner. I just answer with a oui, non, and wish everyone a bonsoir.
And tell them where the restaurant carriage is.
Easy, non?
Seeing Freitag bags everywhere makes me happy. The poor people in Australia carrying these Swiss-branded bags that I've attacked in the past, desperate for some Swiss contact. Now I am just happy to sit and be surrounded by Swissness.
The bank machine machine that dispersed my transaction in 200chf notes. ($200).
Sigh. Only in Switzerland.
How happy I am to use my Swiss train pass again (Gleis7). I pretend I am Swiss and am SO thankful to have returned to Swiss land during it's validity (Never thought when I bought it last year that I'd be back within the year!).
The train leaving to the exact second. Raclette pretzels.
Everyone in black. And gray.
I am quite happy to pretend to be home.
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