La Vie en Rose

            I woke to morning’s soft, golden rays beaming through the window—a rare break from Switzerland’s perpetual winter haze.  As a Californian, I had yet to experience a time in which I so desperately longed for sunshine. Two weeks of frozen-stiff fingers and toes was all it took for this wimpy golden state girl to yearn for sunlight with the enthusiasm of a class counting down the seconds until summer break.

            Eager to soak up some long-awaited rays, Megan and I headed out into the city after a lazy Friday morning breakfast of scrabbled eggs, oranges, and green tea. As we approached the door, I felt the cold escaping into the hall and held my breath in anticipated regret for having only worn a knit sweater. To our surprise, the air was crisp and cold, but not painfully frigid, as it had been the previous days. We let out a sigh of relief, and we were off!

            Past the tram stop, alongside the Rhone, up and down cobblestone side streets. The sun had transformed the gray, ashen buildings with the warmth of its honeycomb light. The water reflected the unexpected blue in the sky and the birds squawked as they danced through the air. Left and right people walked at the edge of river, their easy stroll a huge contrast to their usual speed-walk against the incessant, icy mist. In the distance, the sound of an accordion playing a familiar melody.

            As we got closer to the source of the music, I recognized the song as “La Vie en Rose”—a beautiful piece that never fails to incite feelings of romance and adventure, as well as a need to re-watch the movie “Up” for the millionth time. Never was there a song so fitting of a European outing as this romantic, heartwarming classic.

Can’t you picture it? Your footsteps echoing on cobblestone, white swans at the water’s edge, the smell of pastries, the sound of glasses clinking at lakeside tables, bikers whirring by, the gleeful laughter of children chased by their parents, a boat’s white sail shrinking in the distance, and elderly couple holding hands on a bench, all with the accordion softly playing in the background. I rummaged through my bag until I found a couple of francs to thank the man that had left me humming this lovely tune for the rest of the afternoon.

“La Vie en Rose”, French for “life in pink”, or better-known as the idiom, “life through rose-colored glasses”. The transformation of this dreary, sleepy city into one of color and life is wonderfully depicted by this phrase. “La Vie en Rose”, the new light that was shed on Geneva on this beautifully sunny day. I might add that it also perfectly captures the sentiment that this European travel enthusiast would like to bask in for the rest of my days. Also, we concluded our day with some delicious Swiss ice cream. I think I’m in love.

            

Au revoir,

Lisa & Megan

Don’t get on a bus if you don’t know where it’s going: Brussels Edition

Hello friends!

Megan and I returned from our first weekend trip to Brussels late last night. Let me tell ya, it was a (fantastically) crazy ride. Even though Brussels is the first city outside of Switzerland that Megan and I visited on a weekend trip, I won’t hesitate to admit that this city has truly captured my heart.  Brussels, Belgium—city of chocolate and waffles (enough said, am I right?). A city lined with the classic, ornate old-world European buildings I had always dreamed of seeing up close. A city with jaw-dropping cathedrals and palaces, beautiful gardens, cobblestone streets…Did I mention the mouthwatering smell of waffles and chocolate in the air??

DAY 1

            Our trip, however, didn’t begin on the best note. After having left Les Berges at 4 AM to catch a train to catch our plane at 6:15, Megan and I were running on low energy stores, but high spirits. After some issues trying to buy bus tickets at the Brussels Airport, the anticipation of some Belgian waffles before checking into the Van Gogh Youth Hostel kept us cheery as we awaited our bus in the near-freezing rain. To our confusion and disappointment, our bus didn’t show up. The ladies at the info desk were kind enough to tell us what bus to get on and gave us a map where they had circled our stop and the street to find our hostel. When we tried to board the bus however, we were told it was the wrong bus and were pointed to a different one. Thoroughly confused, we got on the bus in hopes that it would take us to the right place.

The bus ride was lovely, and Megan and I kept our eyes glued to the windows as we sped past the unique European architecture, an elaborate backdrop beyond the snowflakes beginning to flurry around us. Unfortunately, we found out when we unloaded the bus that the info ladies were misinformed and we had been driven in the complete opposite direction of our intended destination. A woman at another info desk advised us to go to the subway station where they would help us get back on track.

The subway station did little to quiet our nerves. The platforms were confusing because the numbers were repeated on both sides of the tracks. Somehow we ended on the wrong side of the tracks for both of our trains and we had to sprint up the stairs and around to the other side with only seconds to spare before the train took off. Thankfully a couple of men, on two different occasions, must have noticed the panic on our faces and offered their help. Megan noticed that the only two people in the whole station that offered to help weren’t locals, but immigrants. I don’t doubt that they themselves must have experienced our pain at some point in their own journey. Their kindness stuck with me for the rest of the afternoon, as I wished we could have demonstrated our gratitude with more than just words.

Once we got off the subway, our hostel was just a short walk through the snowy rain. Upon arriving in the warm, inviting lobby, things began to look up again. The owners were very friendly and we were upgraded from an 8-person room to our own two-person for free. It didn’t take long for us to get cozy in our room and take a nice nap.

We then took a short excursion through the rain to a cute little coffee shop called “My Little Cup”. This place brightened our dreary day exponentially. I’ve now decided that I’m moving to Brussels and marrying Laurent, the owner of this little coffee shop. Laurent, whose icy blue eyes are somehow warmer than the freshly brewed cappuccino he served us, along with some samples of his banana bread and chocolate chip cookies. I’M NOT EXAGGERATING!! Okay…maybe a little (Totally messing with you, mom and dad. I promise not to elope or move Belgium with Laurent anytime soon). But anyway, I highly recommend this place for several of the reasons listed above—not to mention the perfect ambiance and prime location and sweet music.

           

DAY 2

            Hostels are NOISY. Beginning about 9:00 PM, our floor was becoming increasingly louder. By eleven, it sounded like we were in a nightclub with electronic music blasting right outside of our door and people’s yells and laughter echoing through the hall. Needless to say, Megan and I did not appreciate this after only three hours of sleep the previous night. This will definitely take some getting used to.

            Anyway, we woke up fresh on Saturday and headed off to the city after a free breakfast at the hostel. We spent hours roaming the beautiful streets of Brussels—gazing through windows displaying everything from chocolate (lots and lots of it!) to fun hats, observing the detail of every building on the street, and finally getting to eat those Belgian waffles we’d been dreaming about—a glorious moment, let me tell ya.

            Oh, and of course, we managed to get lost again. This time it began to hail. Pretty sure we’ll have gotten lost in every European city by the time we return home. Even though we were starting to worry that we might never find our way back at that point, I’m so glad we were lost, because we got to see some of Brussels’ most beautiful landmarks. And we got the chance to work off those waffles because it turns out we walked over 30,000 steps in a single day—more than thirteen miles!!

            I’m starting to see our awful sense of a direction as a gift. Somehow amidst the slight panic rising in our chest after several attempts to find our way back, we always seem to come across some hidden gems we wouldn’t have discovered otherwise.

           

DAY 3

            Sunday morning we woke up after a more peaceful night sleep and headed off to the city center, this time with our new friend Abraham, whom we had met in the hostel the night before. On Saturday night, Megan and I had been downstairs trying to use the wifi when we met Abraham and one of his dorm mates, Uni.

Abraham is from London and his journey will take him all through Europe, Southeast Asia, and even up part of Everest. Uni is from India and his real name is likely the longest name I’ve ever heard in my life. I loved sharing bits about our lives back home and our travels with these guys. It was nearly two in the morning when we headed off to bed after a few hours of good conversation.

            We had a blast getting to know Abraham over the next two days. It’s really interesting to compare hometowns, cultures, language, stereotypes, and so on, with someone from a different country. Getting to know him (and Uni even though we didn’t spend as much time with him) made this a very formative experience. I’m definitely looking forward to meeting more people like them as we continue our travels.

DAY 4

            Our last day in Brussels was bittersweet. We went back to My Little Cup, had a third waffle at the city center, bought Belgian chocolate, and bid our farewells to Abraham, Uni, and the city. The trip was more difficult than I had expected, yet more wonderful than I could have dreamed.

            Navigating Brussels was challenging. More often than not, Megan and I found ourselves lost, or headed in the wrong direction. Somehow we got on the wrong bus on the way back to the airport as well. Luckily at this point, we had learned to ask where buses were headed before we let them drive us in the complete wrong direction.

            Even though getting lost was at times scary and stressful, I found that it’s okay to sometimes just take the bus to wherever it’s headed (as long as it’s safe and you’re not missing your flight or anything). If I may, I’d like to apply this to life in general. As we prepared to leave for this trip, I had little idea of where this journey would take me. I don’t think I even had a picture in my mind of what Brussels would look like. I just bought the tickets, boarded the plane, and let it transport me to a world of unknowns.

            I think these journeys, in which there are no plans or expectations, are often the best journeys. These journeys that are marked by a true sense of adventure, the raw emotions of a lost traveler, the newfound friendships, the romance of finding the place in which all your dreams of travel unfold and take their true shape. These are the unforgettable journeys.

            I know this is cliché, but hear me out when I say that Brussels will always have a place in my heart. This isn’t to say that I know it will be my favorite city, that I won’t leave a place in my heart for every country I visit (this is actually very likely seeing that I love love love traveling so far). But, I was changed after visiting Brussels. Feeling hopelessly lost in a different country, not understanding the language, meeting other world travelers, and every other event on this trip were all things I had yet to experience.

            I feel a bit nostalgic in knowing that I’m leaving all these things and people behind in Brussels.  These experiences, these friendships, these memories are not things we can plan; they just happen. Sometimes it just takes a little courage (or being directionally challenged, as I am) to let the unbelievable road to adventure unfold before you. I will treasure all of these moments dearly and look forward to the all the ones to come.  

Until next time,

Lisa and Megan

Bonjour from Switzerland!

Hello friends!

Megan and I have now been in Switzerland for just under a week, and I don’t know that I’ll find the words to fully capture what this experience has been like for us thus far. Having read several study abroad blogs and done a lot research on Europe prior to our departure, we now know that there isn’t anything that can fully prepare you to live abroad for an entire semester. 

We were warned of many things before leaving—we were told to beware pickpockets, we were advised not to smile at guys walking by on the street, we were warned about the difficulty with directions and transportation due to language barriers, about culture shock and homesickness, about jet lag, and we were informed that Switzerland (and Europe in general) are very very expensive. Despite all these cautionary tales, Megan and I for some reason departed the States under the overly optimistic impression that we were immune to all of these obstacles.

Let’s just say that the “honeymoon phase” of our study abroad experience lasted about the last fifteen minutes of our flight, in which we began to break through the thick veil of thick clouds shrouding the city.  As we looked out the plane window—onto the lake and the vineyards and patches of green and farmhouses illuminated by the few rays of sun peeking through the clouds—we felt as if we were descending onto heaven on earth.

     

             Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for us to fall from cloud nine. The jet lag, the dreadfully long orientation sessions, the ridiculously high prices of everything, and our awful sense of direction began to crush our spirits a little bit. I had some naïve expectations that everything would be perfect, just the way we planned it. These past few days have definitely been a bit of a wake-up call, but maybe that’s a good thing. 

              Since those first rough days, we’ve made plenty of mistakes including getting lost several times, not having the right type of payment, not understanding the language, and accidentally getting on the first class train cart. As stressful as some of these experiences have been, Megan and I have found ourselves laughing in relief and saying, “this would only happen to us!”

            Even though it feels like we’ve been here a month, tomorrow night marks one week since our arrival in Geneva. Things have definitely begun to look up for us. So far we’ve explored Old Town Geneva, gone to the Scots Kirk and Le Musée Olympique in Lausanne, gone sledding and devoured fondue in St. Cergue, and spent a lot of time getting to know our classmates. I also feel a lot better about our travel plans now that we’ve spent some time budgeting and planning our weekends and our backpacking trip for the end of the semester.  I’m looking forward for our classes to start tomorrow (French in particular because I would like to not be confused anymore) and to our first weekend trip—we’re going to Belgium!!!!

         There is far too much that I would like to share about our journey so far, so I’ll simply conclude by saying that I am so thankful for everyone who supported me and helped me get here—shout out to my parents and the rest of the fam! I still can’t believe my dream of living in Europe has finally come true. I feel like the luckiest girl.   

Au revoir, 

Lisa