The entries in my notebook for today read like an essay written by a 10 year old. To paraphrase:
I went somewhere, and then somewhere else, and something happened, and then went somewhere else and then all of a sudden something else happened.
I will try to be a little more eloquent in my description of the day, of my journey to Genève. We left the youth hostel in Freiburg and caught a tram to the railway station. The “we” consisted of Bernadette from Sydney and myself, as noted in yesterday’s post. After a short walk, we picked up a lift to the autobahn for Basel.
We saw a one-legged man hitching at the autobahn entry road. We got a lift soon after him, and the driver kindly went out of his way to take us to the border. We crossed into Basel, found the road to Bern, and shortly after picked up another lift.
The driver was an American Methodist studying for his doctorate in theology. We stopped for a nice lunch just outside Bern, after which he drove us to Genève where he was meeting some friends at the airport. He dropped us at a bus-stop where we got a bus to the centre of the city. We met two young women from New Zealand who advised us to take another bus to the youth hostel. Luckily, someone kindly gave us a couple of bus tickets that were still valid.
Bernadette and I parted ways at the hostel. This was part of the ebb and flow of backpacking – you travel a while with someone, then part, then meet someone else. Nothing dramatic or sinister. In a sense, like real life condensed in time.
I found myself – or rather, lost myself – wandering around the back streets of the city. The following extract from my notebook illustrates the point I made earlier:
Came back to hostel, then went out, then saw J.D. etc., then went back, washed my socks (4 pairs), washed myself, then came out here (no socks on, just plimsolls). Now just about to head back before I get locked out.
.Notes on the notes:
1. J.D. etc. = J.D. and “Sick” American guys I met in Freiburg.
2. Washing my socks was evidently a big event. Remember, I was still a teenager back then!
3. Attention to detail – 4 pairs of socks.
4. The place I wrote this entry was a dingy pub in the city. And I was drinking tea!
So much for the seventh day. God may have rested, but I was busy crossing another border. Hello Switzerland!
And where will you find me tomorrow?
Clues: A lakeside town famous for its jazz festival. There is a statue of Freddie Mercury in the main square.
Psychologist on the Move 