The Basics: Do you like skiing, hiking, and banking? Then Switzerland is for you!
Don’t worry, there’s lots to do if you’re a lazyass, too.
“I will miss the cheese,” I say sadly. I stretch back in my train seat. It’s going to be a while. Around five and a half hours and we have to switch trains in Bern.
“So will I,” Leela tells me. “Does Switzerland have any good cheese?”
“Swiss cheese?”
“I don’t really like Swiss cheese,” she says. “Do you?”
“I don’t mind it,” I say. “With good mustard, rye bread, and a crunchy piece of lettuce.”
She shakes her head. “It has too many holes. Why would I want my cheese to have holes in it? What is the reason for the holes? I am paying for the cheese. Not the holes.”
“I see your point,” I say.
Leela turns to me. “So how come you never told Kat?”
“About what?”
“About your mom? I know you don’t really talk about it, but you and Kat seem close. I’m surprised.”
“It just never came up,” I say. “We hang out on campus. She’s never been to my house or met my mom.”
“Never?” she asks.
“No.”
She nods. “I’m not going to lie, part of me likes that I’m the only one who knows.”
This would probably be a good time to tell her that I told Jackson, and that we’re still in touch, but I don’t. I know it would upset her.
I’ve left my Wi-Fi off on the train so Leela won’t see his messages come through.
“Omigod, look,” she says, peering out the window. “It’s like we’re in the end of The Sound of Music.”
Out the window, we see a blue sky behind high snowcapped mountains. We snap some pictures. Then some selfies.
“Should I just cave and get one of those selfie sticks?” she asks.
“No,” I say. “They’re so embarrassing.”
“Say cheese,” she says.
“Swiss,” I say.
“Thanks for switching the plans again,” she says. “You’re the best.”
“No problem,” I tell her. “I don’t mind.” It’s pretty here.
We get off at Bern, then get on another train headed to Interlaken. When Leela’s in the bathroom, I send one of the selfies to Jackson. He sends me back one of him sitting at a picnic table, holding a frothy glass of beer. He’s smiling. I save it to my phone.
Tip: The official languages of Switzerland are Italian, German, French, and Romansh.
No, that wasn’t a typo. Romansh is a real language—it comes from Latin. And in case you’re wondering—no, Swiss is not a language.
“Omigod, smell,” Leela says.
Sniff, sniff. “It smells like—”
“Mint gum!” she cries.
“And leaves!”
“And spring!”
“And fresh water!”
“And snow!”
We take more pictures and more deep breaths before going inside.
Our hostel is basically a backpacker commune. It looks like a huge chalet in the middle of a mountain that has everything you could possibly need. The rooms are upstairs and downstairs is a massive restaurant/sports bar.
After getting a quick tour of the hostel, we take our large keys and head up to our dorm room to put down our stuff. The room is huge and sparse and all the furniture is wood. It smells good even in here.
We head back downstairs and study the posters everywhere about all the stuff we could do. Skydiving! Rappelling! White-water rafting!
“Do you think there’s a spa?” I ask.
“No,” Leela says. “I do not. Which is too bad because I could use a facial. I’m breaking out.”
“Me too,” I say. “I think I left my face wash in Belgium.”
“So what are we going to do here?” she asks.
I shrug. “Yodel?”
We step out through the double doors and onto the terrace. There’s a pool table and a foosball table.
“Now can I yodel?” I ask.
“Do you know how to yodel?”
“Yodel-ay-hee-who!” I sing.
“You’re killing it.”
“Shall we go drink and eat at the sports bar?”
“We totally should.”
Our eyes take a second to adjust to the dimness of the restaurant. There are long wooden tables everywhere like we’re in a lunchroom cafeteria. There are four large television screens, all playing soccer games, or football, as it’s called here.
The travelers are all in groups. I hear a mix of French, German, and Spanish.
“Let’s find the English speakers,” I say.
“And then what?” she asks.
I throw my arms up. “And sit with them!”
“Seriously? Remember what happened last time you tried that?”
“Yes. But this is different,” I say.
“Why?”
“Look around,” I say.
She looks. And then she sees what I’m noticing. The people around us are 90 percent men.
“Oh,” she says.
“Yeah. I think we’ll have an easier time here.”
“Okay,” she agrees. “Let’s scope it out and then decide where to go.”
We stand by the bar trying to look nonchalant about our scoping.
“Okay,” I say. “Table at the back. I think I detect some Aussie accents.”
Her eyes widen. “Ohhhh, Aussies! So what do we do?”
I think about what Kat would do. “We just walk over and say, ‘Hi, we just got here, can we join you?’”
Leela twists her ponytail. “What if they say no?”
I give her a look. “They won’t say no.”
We study the table. There are three of them. Two guys and one girl.
Leela bites her fingernail. “What if the girl hates us? What if she wants all the boys for herself?”
“Then we leave. Let’s do it!” I lead the way and march over to the magical table. I feel Leela behind me. “Hi,” I say, a little too loudly. “We just arrived. Would you mind if we sit with you?”
They stare at us for a half a second. “We would love if you sat with us,” the girl says, and scoots over.
The Aussies are the best. The best.
They are: Lachlan, Gabriel, and Sienna. Sienna and Gabriel are twins. They’re tall and pale and blond with matching high cheek bones. Lachlan is just a bit taller than me, about five six, and, he tells us, Chinese-Australian.
All three live in Brisbane but are on a gap year, meaning they took off twelve months to travel before going to college, starting in January, since our winter is summer in Australia. They started in Asia and got jobs in Phuket but are now mostly just traveling through Europe.
They make jokes, include us in their conversation, and are clearly having the most fun out of anyone at the bar.
“Why didn’t we have a gap year?” I ask.
“You don’t?” they ask.
“Just summers off,” Leela says. “It doesn’t seem fair.”
“Technically, no one stopped us from taking a year off,” I point out. “There’s no law. Americans do do it.”
“Another beer?” Lachlan asks.
I look at Leela and smile, and she smiles back. We did it! We made friends! Traveler friends! How cool are we?
“So are you guys coming rafting with us tomorrow?” Gabriel asks.
“Sure,” I say.
“Really?” Leela asks.
“No? Too scary?”
“Rafting isn’t scary,” Lachlan says. “Today we went skydiving. That was scary.”
“You jumped out of a plane?” I ask, incredulous.
“No, from a canyon,” Sienna says. “I honestly thought I was going to die. I’m not sure I will ever do that again. But rafting is relaxing. We’re just sitting on a raft. Getting some sun. It’ll be a total blast.”
I look at Leela. “What do you think?”
She shrugs. “Sure. Why not?”
Tip: Enjoy a fabulous day rafting on the Lütschine. The scenery is gorgeous!
You might want to wash out your wet suit first.
We somehow are convinced to buy two activities for a bargain price. White-water rafting on Wednesday and paragliding Thursday. We’re not exactly sure what paragliding is, but the Aussies promise it’ll be a “ripsnorter,” which I’m told is a good thing.
We sleep in, have brunch, and then get picked up outside the hostel at one p.m. We all climb into a van that drives us down mountains for thirty minutes to the rafting base. I take about a hundred pictures along the way. It’s like we’re driving through a postcard.
That’s when we have to gear up. And by gear up, I mean get dressed in a full-on, soaking wet suit. Ankle to chest.
“I kinda wish we had done the morning trip,” I say. “At least the suits would have been dry.”
“Yeah, but then we would’ve had to get up at seven.”
“Good point,” I say, as I trip over the wet suit leg.
After we put on the black wet suits, we’re given bright red life jackets and even brighter yellow helmets.
We leave our cell phones in our storage lockers so they don’t get smashed or wet, and then get safety training from a German-sounding guy named Florian, who will be our leader.
We are told not to panic, to stay in the boat, and to hold the paddle by the shaft.
Leela and I giggle at the word shaft.
“Um, excuse me?” I ask. “What happens if we fall into the water?”
“Don’t fall in the water,” Florian says.
“Um. Yeah. But what if we do?” Leela asks.
“Toes up!” he barks.
“Huh?”
“Keep your toes up! Rocks are dangerous. Keep your toes up and stay near the boat. If you get far from the boat, swim to shore. I will pick you up. Don’t worry.”
“I’m worried,” Leela mumbles.
“You will have an exciting afternoon!” he screams.
The Australians cheer.
We’re given paddles, and since it’s eight per boat, the six of us are ushered into a bright orange raft with a mother and her son from London.
“Are you sure this is for beginners?” Leela asks.
“Don’t worry, love, I’ll take care of you,” Lachlan says.
Leela’s eyes widen at the word love.
They were sitting pretty close last night. Oooh. This is just what she needs. A fling with an Australian!
I’m on the left side of the boat, with Leela in front of me. It starts off slow, but very quickly we are swerving back and forth like clothes in a washing machine, with frothy water attacking us from all sides.
“Bump!” Instructor Florian yells as we jump over a rock.
We go flying but all manage to stay inside.
“Bump!” he yells again a second later.
OH. MY. GOD. The raft soars into the air, freezing water splashing in my face. I try to hold on, to grip the paddle, and to NOT FALL OUT.
We’re still in the air. Now we’re at a ninety-degree angle, and my side of the boat is almost underwater.
OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD.
We’re going in we’re going in we’re going in . . . I try to grip my paddle and NOT FALL OUT but I can’t hold on I can’t hold on I can’t hold on.
SPLASH.
I go headfirst into the water.
I pop up beside the boat, which is still at a ninety-degree angle.
“Are you okay?” Florian asks me. “Toes out of the water!”
I lift my legs so I don’t hit any of the rocks at the bottom, and so he doesn’t yell at me again.
“I’m fine,” I say. I lunge toward the side of the raft. Holy crap, that was insane. “Where’s Leela?” She’s not in the boat. “Leela?!”
I spot her on the other side of the river. “She’s floating off! Leela!”
She continues to drift away from us. Holy shit. Holy shit. HOLY SHIT.
“What do I do?” she yells.
I have to help Leela! How do I help Leela? I reach out to swim toward her, but Florian grabs my arm. “Absolutely not. Can you even swim?”
“Not well,” I admit, starting to panic. “But someone has to help her!”
“I’ll get ’er,” Lachlan says. He jumps out of the boat and swims toward her. He has major arm strength. Impressive.
“Stop!” Florian cries. “You return to the raft! We will get her! Toes up, toes up!”
I watch, relieved, as Lachlan swim-lunges toward Leela.
He picks her up and scoops her in his arms and swim-walks back to the raft.
“Are you okay?” I ask, throwing my arms around her.
“Okay?” she asks, eyes glinting. “That was the most fun I’ve had in weeks.”
“I’m so happy to get out of this,” I say, peeling off my wet suit when we get back to the locker room.
“Me too,” Leela says. “I totally peed in it.”
“No, you didn’t!”
“Yes, I did. I was in the water for like twenty minutes!”
“You were in there for five minutes.”
“Well, I didn’t think Lachlan was going to come rescue me and I had to go!”
“That’s gross,” I tell her.
“I’m sure the water cleaned it out.”
“I’m so glad I’m not wearing your wet suit next.”
By the time we get back to the hostel, it’s after six. We’re exhausted.
“Hostel bar in an hour?” Sienna asks us.
“Definitely,” Leela says.
“We have friends!” I chirp to her. “Aussie friends! Isn’t it amazing?”
We shower. I change into a white T-shirt and my jeans—which, AHHHHH, somehow still have the jam stain. Leela is in a matching outfit, without the jam stain. We head back down to the bar.
“Hey!” our new friends call when we get down there. “We saved you seats.”
“They saved us seats,” I whisper.
“I heard,” she says. “I would like the seat next to Muscle-Arms.”
“You may have it.”
We join them and see that they already have a pitcher of beer and glasses for us.
“We just ordered raclette,” Sienna says. “It’s like nachos with potatoes. Also burgers. I’m starving.”
“Are we eating here?” I ask.
“Yup. We could go out but isn’t it so much more fun here? And have you tried the burger? It has bacon and tomato chutney and caramelized onions. It’s delicious.”
“I have not. But I definitely will,” I say.
“Sounds good to me,” Leela says, then gets up to get a glass of wine.
My phone buzzes.
Jackson: Still in Paris?
I lower my phone under the table.
Me: Nope. Still in Berlin?
Jackson: Nope.
Me: Where are you?
Jackson: You first.
Me: I’ll give you a clue. I just went white-water rafting.
Jackson: Switzerland!
Me: Yes. You?
Jackson: I’ll give you a clue. I’m eating nakladany hermelin. I probably did not spell that right.
Me: I have no clue. Vienna?
Jackson: Wrong! Prague.
Me: But what is it?
Jackson: Guess.
Me: Lamb stew?
Jackson: Pickled cheese.
Me: That’s disgusting.
Jackson: I’m enjoying it actually. It goes well with a Bevog Hagger. That’s Austrian beer.
“Here you go,” the waitress says, putting down our raclette.
“Are you texting Addison?” Leela asks.
I shove my phone back in my bag. “Yes.” I reach my fork over and grab a cheese-covered potato. Mmm.
Actually, I haven’t heard from my mother or sister in a few days.
“Hey! Eli!” Lachlan calls out.
There’s a new guy standing by our table. “My favorite Aussies!” he says.
“They let you tossers in here?” Sienna says, batting her expertly mascaraed eyelashes. “I thought they keep out the riffraff.”
The guy, Eli, looks around our age. He’s only about a head taller than I am, and thin but not too thin. He has a round face, light brown hair, one dimple, and he’s wearing a Yankees baseball hat and an NYU sweatshirt. He’s cute. Hello, American!
“Hello, American!” I cheer.
Eli smiles and pulls up a backward chair. “Hello.”
“How do you know our fellow countryman?” Leela asks the Aussies.
“We met in Budapest,” Sienna says, pronouncing it Budapesht.
“I loved Buda,” Eli says. “And Pesht. Are you ladies going?”
“Nope,” I say.
“Why not?” he asks, shaking his head. “You have to go to Budapest.”
“We only have three weeks left,” I say. “We can’t go everywhere.”
“It’s a shame. Beer is really cheap in Hungary,” Lachlan says.
“Everything is cheap in Hungary,” Sienna says. “It’s hard to go hungry in Hungary.”
“I had an entire steak for, like . . .” Gabriel calculates the conversion in his head. “Four euro. And it was ace.”
“Not as good as this hamburger,” Sienna says.
“But your hamburger is fifteen euro,” Gabriel says.
“Can I get anyone a drink?” Eli asks.
“Yes,” we all say.
“What would you like?” he asks.
We ask for another pitcher of beer and one glass of chardonnay.
“I’ll help,” Gabriel says, and goes with him to the bar.
“He’s cute,” Leela says to me, pointing her chin toward Eli. “You should go for him.”
“He is cute,” I say.
“Sorry, love,” Sienna tells me. “He has a girlfriend.”
Oh well.
When they come back, I ask, “So, Eli, where are you from? How long are you traveling for?”
“Long Island. And I’m traveling for seven weeks.”
“We have a few friends from high school who go to NYU,” I say. “Any chance you know Ellery Morganstein?”
“No,” he says.
“Jeremy Dooth?”
“Nope. It’s a big school.”
“I know,” I say. “But it’s a small world. I hear you have a girlfriend.”
“I do,” he says, blushing.
“Is she here too?” I ask.
“No,” he says, and sighs. “She’s a camp counselor.”
“Yeah? What camp?” I wonder.
“Blue Springs. In northern New York.”
“Shut up!” both Leela and I yell.
He jumps back. “What?”
“Our friend’s boyfriend is there too!” I say.
He looks surprised. “Really?”
“Yes!” I say. “Swear.”
“What’s his name?”
“Gavin,” I say. “Lawblau. Does that name sound familiar?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t think so. I’ll ask her next time we talk. If I can ever get in touch with her.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard cell phone service at camp is spotty.”
“It’s horrible. The whole place is a dead zone.”
“That must suck. If it makes you feel better, it sucks for our friend Kat too,” I say.
“What’s she doing this summer?” he asks.
“She’s working in Paris. We just came from her place.”
“It’s gorgeous,” Leela adds. She takes a sip of wine. “Like insanely gorgeous. Near the Latin Quarter. So, are you traveling alone?”
“No, I’m with my cousin Yosef. He’s showering.”
“Another American,” I say. “Excellent.”
“He’s Israeli, actually,” Eli says. “My aunt met her husband while backpacking in Israel and stayed there. He’s traveling for the year. He just got out of the army.”
“Hear that?” I whisper to Leela. “Another Israeli. You get a second chance.”
Two hours later, when Yosef finally joins us—that must have been a super long shower—we haven’t moved from our spots. Yosef has the same round face and one dimple as his cousin, but looks like he’s in his early twenties, has a scruffy beard, and darker hair and skin. Also he’s clearly more built.
He checks the soccer score and then joins us. “Shalom,” he says, nodding.
“Yosef, meet Leela and Sydney.”
“Hi,” we say.
Leela is checking him out, clearly into him.
Excellent.
He nods at her, checking her out. I think he’s into her too.
“Do you speak English?” she asks him.
“Ken,” he says.
“That means yes, guys,” I say. “I went to Hebrew school.”
“So, Syd,” Lachlan says, like we’re old friends. “Do you have a fella?”
“Me? No.” I think of Jackson. What’s wrong with me? He’s not my boyfriend. He’s just a guy I almost slept with and send flirty messages to.
“And you?” Lachlan asks Leela.
“Nope,” she answers, twisting her hair behind her shoulder.
He leans a little closer to her. I’m pretty sure Lachlan’s into her too.
Yay! Now Leela has two potential guys to hook up with. How can I move this along?
“Maybe they have girlfriends,” Sienna says. “Maybe they’re together.”
“We’re not,” I say quickly.
Lachlan leans in closer to Leela. “Have you ever been with a woman?”
Leela clears her throat. “No. But it’s on my bucket list.”
I almost spit out my drink. “It is?”
“Of course it is. It’s not on yours?”
“No,” I say. “I mean, it wasn’t. Should it be?”
“You have to try everything once,” Sienna says, smiling at Leela.
“Have you?” Leela asks.
“Oh yeah,” Sienna says. “I don’t discriminate based on race or gender or age.”
“Her last boyfriend was sixty-four,” Gabriel says.
“He was forty-six,” she corrects, and takes a sip of her beer.
“Did he have gray hair on his balls or what?” Gabriel asks.
“You’re being disgusting,” Sienna says, making a face. “And you would have screwed him too if you could.”
“It’s true,” Gabriel says. “I would have. He was hot.”
“And what’s your story, Gabriel?” Leela asks.
“Men only.” He smiles.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” I ask.
“I did,” Gabriel says. “But we broke up before I left for the trip. Which was for the best.”
“He made a special friend in Croatia,” Lachlan says.
He sighs. “True. But now that ship has sailed. All the way to Greece.”
“And what about you guys, Lachlan and Yosef? You attached to anyone back home?” I make eyes at Leela and enjoy watching her squirm in her seat.
“Nope,” Lachlan says. “I travel freely.”
“Lo,” Yosef says.
“That means no,” I say to Leela.
Leela leans closer to Yosef. “You were really in the army?”
He nods. “Every Israeli must be in the army.”
“How old are you?” Leela asks.
“Twenty-one.”
Lachlan leans forward in his seat. “I was in the army too,” he says.
“You were not, you big liar!” Sienna says. “Stop trying to impress the American girls.”
At the end of the night, my phone buzzes again when I’m in the bathroom getting ready for bed.
Jackson: hiiiiiiii. What ya doing?
Me: Are you drunk texting me?
Jackson: I am.
Me: Aren’t there any real live girls to talk to?
Jackson: Yes. But I keep thinking of you.
I stare at my phone.
Me: Yeah?
Jackson: Yeah.
Me: I keep thinking of you, too.
Jackson: I wish you were in Prague with us.
Me: Yeah, the four of us hanging in Prague. That would not work out.
Jackson: Where are you going next?
Me: Not sure.
Jackson: When are you leaving?
Me: Not sure. Leela’s having fun, so we’ll probably stick around for a few days. But Jackson . . .
Jackson: Yeah?
Me: I wish I were in Prague with you, too.
After we say goodnight, I message my sister.
Me: How’s everything going? Is Mom OK?
I wait twenty minutes for her to answer, but she doesn’t.
Ow, ow, ow. Every muscle in my entire body is sore. I feel like I’ve been in a car accident. I grimace and not from the pain. I should not, definitely not be making light of a car accident when Jackson’s mother died in one. But seriously, my whole body hurts. “Can’t move,” I squeak out.
“I’m not sure I can go paragliding today,” Leela says. “I don’t think I can stand up, never mind jump from the sky.”
“We have to,” I say. “We paid already. It was a special!”
“No! Listen!”
“To what?” I hear a pitter-patter against the windows. “Is it raining?”
“It is!”
“That means it’s canceled!”
“Yes!”
“Wahoo!” I cheer. “We better get a refund.”
“So what are we going to do instead?”
“Go to the bar?”
“It’s eight a.m.”
“Let’s go back to sleep and then go to the bar?”
“Umph,” she says, and we both go back to sleep.
Tip: There are so many amazing things to do and see in Interlaken, even when it rains. There are caves to explore. There are indoor ropes courses. There are ice rinks. There are bowling alleys. Don’t just sit around—get active!
We spend the whole day in the bar.
For brunch we have French toast. For lunch we have chicken fingers. We take a break halfway through the day to watch the Aussies play soccer in the rain. We stay dry under the terrace awning.
Then we go back inside. Eli lends us his cards and we play Asshole and Rummy 500.
It’s the best day ever. And we never leave the Wi-Fi zone.
It’s hard to text back and forth with Jackson with Leela watching, but I do my best. I tell her I’m writing Addison. Addison who has not responded to my last three messages.
I email my mom to check in, and she finally writes back.
I’m fine! Your sister has been out and about. I hear her come home at night but haven’t spent much time with her.
I message Addison, again.
Can you please, please just take care of Mom for two and a half more weeks? You said you could handle it!
“Where are you going next?” Leela asks Eli during our third game of Rummy 500.
“South of France,” Eli tells us. “Tomorrow. Then Spain and Portugal. You?”
“We have no idea,” I say. “We fly out of Rome on August second.”
“Did you already do the South of France?” Gabriel asks.
“No,” I say, and take a nacho from the plate that I don’t even remember ordering and then pick up a card. No set. I need the eight of clubs. “We were thinking of just going straight to Italy.”
“You have to go to the South of France,” Sienna cries. “That’s the entire point of going to Europe.”
Leela snort-laughs. “I thought the whole point was seeing museums and castles.”
“Don’t you want to go to the beach?” Eli says.
“I could use a beach,” Leela says.
So much for cold weather.
“We’re gonna go tomorrow, too,” Sienna says. She slams her glass of beer against the table. “And you’re coming.”
“We are?” I ask.
“Yes,” she declares. “We are all going to Juan-les-Pins. Best place on the Riviera for backpackers.”
“See?” I look at Leela. “Backpackers. I bet these people have actual backpacks, too. Am I right?”
“Of course,” Lachlan says. “Don’t you?”
“Not all of us have such incredible upper-body strength,” Leela says, batting her eyelashes.
“Oh, please,” I say.
“So are you coming or not?” Sienna asks. “If you’re not, you may be banished from our table.”
“You’re leaving tomorrow?” I ask.
“Yes,” Lachlan says. “Tomorrow. We won’t take no for an answer.”
I turn to Leela, and ask in a low voice, “What do you think?”
“I think we’re going to Juan-les-Pins,” she says. She puts down a set of eights, flips over her winning card, and smiles.