Today consisted of a nine hour bus ride to Montreux, Switzerland. Long would be one way to describe it. However, Mya kept me busy with her stencils and puppy sticker book. Plus, the scenery during the ride made the time go by a touch faster. That and our childish game of telephone which Mya talked us into. Here were some of the choice phrases:
Mia’s puppies poop pretty flower pedals.
A horse smells like mud, muds smells like trees, and tress smell like poop?
Verona scalops taste like pumpernickel flavored rabbit meat.
Upon arriving, we had a hearty meal at the hostel. My legs needed some serious stretching out, so I went for a serious run around Montreux: down the lake shore path and eventually turned to run straight up whatever stairs I could find. I ran up & up until I was ready to puke, found a park, and stopped to take in all that was around me.
As I stretched in the park, I could help but to notice a young (mid-20s) woman across the park on a little kid’s bouncy horsey. Her and I were the only ones there. All I could think as I sat, starring at the lake Geneva shoreline was, “I wish I could speak French.” Not to hit on her or anything like that, but to simply talk, get to know someone. I’m envious of my friend Mike on this trip as he is bi-lingual in Spanish and English, and his Espanola is carrying over well into Italia.
Anywho, I got back to the hostel, showered. Then Jim and I walked about Montreux with a few beers and gawked at the “Door-County-WI-like” ritziness of this mountainside town. The only cars: Porches, Merecedes, BMWs, and a Toyota Prius thrown in for the cheapies. Until tomorrow.
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