Dampenfahrt-ing

Guten Tag! I hope you've all had a great weekend like I did. First, on Thursday, our Layers of Rome professor took a picture of our whole class, telling us to "say lesbian" before the click. My kind of fellow. Then me, one of my roommates, and two other girls on the program hopped on a double-decker autobus to go to the Alps.

First off, Switzerland is just plain queer. It is primarily a German-speaking country, but the translations were so off it was comical. For instance, a sign in one of the store windows said, "Due scratches on window I please you not sit on windowboard. Nice meet you tomorrow". They still use the franc, which is much weaker than the Euro, so we would always buy things in cash and have a lot more change to spend.

On Friday and Saturday, the girls and I took a train up to the top of a mountain to the stop Kleinshaidegg to tear up some powder. Now, I have been skiing about 5 times, and I thought I was decent. Not in Europe. Every single person there was better than me. In Colorado, I'm used to avoiding ten lazy snowboarders parked in the middle of a mountain or laughing gaily as other people tumble into trees. Here, though, I would timidly follow a German family as they skiied from sign to sign, slowly trailing behind their 6 month old that didn't even need poles. In America, the trails are all clearly marked and people stay within the lines to avoid things like death. In the Alps, a number or color might be posted on some tree, and people view the entire mountain as fair terrain. Whenever I was on a chairlift (or a standing lift, which I fell off of and the whole machine stopped so the man could lift me up and say "STAND!"), I would notice the curlicues of trails going every which way, going from one run to the other. Moreover, there were no nets or fences keeping you from tumbling to your death. We're not talking falling onto a soft powdery pile of fluff, we're talking head over heels down the cliff edge of a mountain. Needless to say, I would make myself fall before I got too close to an edge. The others had enough skill to maneuver around me.

When I wasn't falling and sliding down the intermediates, which we originally had thought were the easy slopes, my friends and I would get bratwurst at the restaurants and order Jagers from the ice bars. At night, we went to a club at the bottom of our hostel that reminded me of a very diverse CO's. Make that the basement of CO's. It cost $4.50 for a Rugenbrau, which was the cheapest drink available and I heard the Black Eyed Peas and the Fresh Prince theme song about 6 times a night. The hostel in general was decent and definitely what I expected- cabin style rooms (even coed...I was surprised), buffet-style breakfast and plenty of chocolate to buy.

On Sunday, we went for a hike through the woods and found the Rugenbrau brewery and what I can only assume is the house from the Shining. That, after a 96 franc Swiss cheese fondue meal was enough of Swiss life for me. The skiing was incredible and the town looks like a gingerbread wonderland, but I am still far too intensely involved in my affair with Roma to make any other commitments.

Stay tuned, lovies. Prague and Carnivale await.

Piacere,
Cason