Floating

Floating down to the current of a river, that’s how the trip started. The bath house had closed for the evening, so we walked a little further up the stream and went into the water from a steep edge. It doesn’t take much skill or effort when the river takes the lead, and following our local friend, it felt safe even if the three of us where the only ones floating out in it. As we drifted down through the city, we watched people sitting at cafes or partying on the river bank. The evening sun stood low right in front of us. When we took ourself to the edge again, we all got small bruises on our knees from the sharp stones, and the soles of our bare feet got more than a gentle massage as we walked on the rocky path back to our clothes where we had entered the river further up.

The actual beginning of the trip obviously started several hours before, when we carried our backpacks across the market square at home as the vegetable guy was setting up his stand, before we crossed flat fields for hours in a full train. Only on the very end we started ascending low mountains, getting of to see our Swiss friends.

The next day was spent on a beach of the Lake Zurich, occasionally swimming out to the crowded floating deck and watching the guard give their instructions from their wooden row boat. Far away, beyond the crisp green lake, the high mountains looked more like clouds, signs of the alps our train would cross under the following day. But for now it was all about staying still, hanging out with the kids of friends, a quick stop at the local cactus garden being a cute little surprise intermission, where Edithcolea was the star of the day.