Today I woke up at 5 am. I staggered down the stairs, looked out the window, and recognised that I was home.
Netstal is a both amazing and weird for me. There are things that make me feel so at home – I hear people speaking my language everywhere. People know me and my family. In the supermarket, I get to buy all my childhood goodies. But then there are also things that make me feel so foreign – people hear my accent. They get confused by my dialect. Social mores (like how do I pay for my food at the restaurant?!) are awkward and sometimes unrecognisable. In the whirlwind of jetlag, this confusion makes me very emotional.
After a breakfast with all my favourite swiss indulgences, we passed by the cemetery on the way to Riedern. I felt pretty nostalgic as the bells rung midday through the valley.
We caught the bus up to Klöntal and spent lunch time at the lake.
Unfortunately we missed the bus and decided to walk. About 1/4 of the way down it started to pour. We hadn’t really planned for that. After 10 minutes, a minivan stopped and told us to get in. The kind couple drove us all the way home (despite my shoddy directions), and it turns out the driver knew my dad. Classic Netstal.