Magic is a midnight lightning storm – Switzerland Part 2

Magic is a midnight lightning storm – Switzerland Part 2

You know when you’re reading a book or watching a movie and something absolutely magical happens that literally gives you tingles? And you sit there in complete awe of how beautiful the universe can be, thinking about how you’d love for things like that to happen way more often in real life?

I believe these magical moments are all around us, all the time, and we just have to keep our eyes open to see them. They can even come in the form of really small/mundane things like not getting a ticket even through you left your car parked illegally for hours at a time, or finding a pair of jeans that actually feel comfortable, or maybe just witnessing the barista getting your order right for once at Starbucks.  Maybe you’re really moved by Christmas lights, or gingerbread, or snow, and you love the whimsical energy that December inevitably brings. Whatever your magic, I know I’m not the only one that celebrates these little day-to-day victories, but I want to tell you about one of the more grandiose victories that I experienced on my recent jaunt through Europe, so let’s go back to Switzerland again.

One of the main reasons we decided to start in Switzerland (because it’s crazy to start there in the land of everything-is-more-expensive-than-you’ve-ever-seen-it) is because of a waterline tour that was taking place. What’s that, you ask?  The waterline tour is this beautiful gathering of slack liners from all over the world who come together to (you guessed it!) slackline! The difference being that these lines are rigged over water. You get on, fall off, get wet, level up, meet new friends, and experience a week of infinite adventure. When you’re not from Switzerland, that sense of adventure is amped up 100 fold and reinforced by how beautiful the landscape is. Honestly, it’s so surreal. Let me show you what I mean, just take a look at how gorgeous this place is…

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This enchanting place is called Sion– it’s surrounded by mountains and decorated by not one, but two castles. It was our first stop on the tour and the place where we pitched our tent for the first (of many) nights. Being there felt like being at camp and also a little awkward for me because I felt like the new kid tossed in amongst a bunch of old friends… because I was. To be honest I’m a bit of a shy person, especially in overwhelming groups where everyone knows each other except me. Having said that, people were beyond welcoming and lovely, and even though I was a bit out of sorts I knew I was amongst a wonderful group of people.

On the third day we were there we decided to take the train into town to do a little exploring and take a peak at one of the castles. Being from Canada, I was beyond excited to get a look at some castles…those things that people used to build, but don’t anymore, and don’t exist in North America. It’s all part of the Eurotrip, you know?

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We wandered through town and trekked up and up and up the hill toward the castle. Since this was the first week of the trip, I was just brimming with energy and stopping every few metres to snap a million photos. The trek was harder than you might think, made harder by the fact that the sun was swelteringly hot, but the reward was incredible…

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As I sit here back in my apartment a few months later, reliving this day, I can’t help but feel swept away by just how extraordinary it really was. Thinking of the me from that day, knowing now all the wild and crazy things that were to come, I just feel really proud of myself for finally making a trip like this happen. And this place, this moment, feels like the start of it all. This was magic and magic enough, but it wasn’t even the moment that I was talking about earlier. Yes! It goes on.

After we were done in town we headed back to camp for what was to be our last evening in Sion before moving onto Flims. That’s when we ran into one of our first obstacles: getting there. With no car, and a small budget, and not knowing anyone, this was proving to be tricky. The trouble was that taking the train wasn’t really an option. Well, it wasn’t a good option. Taking the train in Switzerland will drain your pocket faster than you can say please don’t. We discovered that when we initially tried to get to Sion from Zurich, which was far and beyond what we fathomed spending (we ended up taking a blablacar instead). And the trouble was worse because even if we could resort to the train, which we couldn’t, there’s no direct route from Sion to Flims. You have to go all the way back to Zurich first and around because of the mountain passes that prevent a train from being able to run in that direction.

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As you can see it’s just ridiculous to go around– even if you can afford it. Much better to go straight through if you can. We had to ask around and try to find a ride from the many strangers at our camp, most of whom already had full cars, whether with humans or slackline equipment.

It seemed like we were out of luck. My boyfriend kept wandering around trying to see if anyone could squeeze us in, and I went online to try to find us another blablacar, wondering if it was time for us to try our hand at hitchhiking…

When I saw my boyfriend returning I could read on his face immediately that something was up.

“I have good news and bad news,” he said, “I found us rides, but not together. I’ll be leaving tomorrow morning, and you’ll be leaving in about 20 minutes.”

I was a bit taken aback by that. I mean, we only had one tent… if I went that night where was I going to sleep? If I take the tent where does he sleep? Generally I just wasn’t happy about the situation because I think it’s best to stick together and we had only been abroad for a few days, not long enough to feel comfortable just yet. But, thinking about it- hitchhiking wasn’t really an option. Neither was the train. Walking was definitely out, so… that was pretty much that. We started googling reasonably priced hotels (which so far as I know do not exist in Switzerland)  for me to stay at for one night. I packed up all my stuff and walked across the campground to meet the people I would be traveling with to Flims. There was a group traveling together that night, probably about 4 vehicles full of people, and luckily for me, there was space in one of the vans for me to squeeze into. Introductions were made and we started talking about departure, etc. That’s when one of the guys said to me,

“By the way, we’re not going all the way to Flims tonight, we’ll be wild camping and driving the rest of the way there tomorrow.”

………

but… I don’t have a tent.” I said meekly.

and he just said, “No worries, we’ll sort you out.”

At this point I was pretty nervous. I mean I had that one rogue camping adventure which I thoroughly enjoyed, but that was with my boyfriend and two of our best friends, and in my own tent. This was driving through the swiss alps in the middle of the night with a group of strangers, without my boyfriend, having none of my own equipment, with no mobile communication, and sleeping I-didn’t-know-where in I-didn’t-know-what. The stress is understandable, right?  But, that was the situation so I gave them my bag, kissed my boyfriend goodbye, and got in the van.

Off we went, driving through the swiss alps in the middle of the night in a great big van. It was too dark for me to see anything, which I regretted, but as the night went on it started to rain and we found ourselves driving through one of the most tremendous lightning storms I’d ever seen. After many hours of this, the group (all the cars) took a little stop at the top of one of the mountain passes. The rain had subsided somewhat and everyone was deciding where we would sleep. We were in an oddball parking lot of a restaurant which had long since closed as it was probably around 1 or 2 in the morning at this time. With the rain relenting somewhat, everyone took the opportunity to get out of the car and stretch their legs. The parking lot overlooked the town below which was crested in valley and which, I imagined, showcased an enormously stunning view during the day. I walked over to the edge to look into the darkness in front of me, and what came next was the magical moment.

It was the lightning. It was like nothing I had ever seen. Each strike was wild and bold, and every time they burst out of the sky they cast a fleeting blaze of light over the valley below such that I could see the buildings and shape of it all. Flash after flash ignited like this, allowing me one of the most unique viewing experiences of a place I’d ever seen. It was captivating. Everyone was drawn in by the sheer magnificence of the show, and we all stood there admiring it. I was shivering somewhat from the cold so one of the guys came over to me and, without saying a word, cocooned me in a sleeping bag that he was already sharing with someone else. The three of us huddled together on that mountain and watched the sky explode. All was silent except for the the roar of the thunder, and the sound of the rain as it began to creep back in. It gave me all the tingles.

I think that one will go down in my memory bank hall of fame.

Thanks for reading guys, I know it was a long one. Hope you enjoyed.

xoxo

 

50 word stories: Supernovas

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There’s nothing real or unreal in these words you’re reading. Nothing overly dramatical, I think the universe itself is drama enough. Supernovas, you know? I thought to write something and yet with nothing to say I can only offer you this small reconciliation: this paragraph is only fifty short words.


 

Thought I’d try my hand at the 50 word story today, although Richard does them better. If you guys have ever written one please leave a link to it in the comments so I can read! Or alternatively, write one, and then leave a link to it. 😉

Thanks for reading xo

Dreamy short film

I’m very late to this party, but last night I was watching a few short films when I stumbled across this captivating little animation “Out of Sight”. It was published on YouTube in 2010 and has been viewed more than 5 million times so I’m sure some of you have already seen it, but if you somehow missed this one like I did, you should take 5 minutes to watch it because it is completely charming and lovely.

I always hear from artists the importance of absorbing and seeking out all types of creative work for inspiration. Writers must read, film makers must watch, musicians must listen, artists must observe… I definitely drew some inspiration from this short film. I love its dreamlike quality and imagination. I hope you all love it, too.

I know where I live

A couple nights ago I went out for a few drinks with some girls from my program for one of their birthdays. We went to some bar not far from my house, I’d say it takes 15 minutes tops by car if the roads aren’t busy. I took a taxi because I knew I’d have at least a couple drinks and obviously wasn’t going to want to drive, and I ended up staying there for quite a while. By the time I left to flag down a taxi it was close to 2 am.

The point of this story is the interaction I had with the taxi driver. He presumed arrogantly that because I was a young girl leaving a bar late at night that I must be completely plastered. I wasn’t drunk in the least. Tired, yes, but undoubtedly coherent. He decided that I must be so out of it that he could pull one over on me and take me sight seeing in my own hometown. It went like this:

Taxi driver: Hi. Where would you like to go?

I gave him my house address, thanked him, and sat quietly in the backseat. He proceeded to drive on, and I sat there eagerly awaiting my chance to crawl into bed and sleep. Somehow that wasn’t going to be the end of my night, however, as I noticed the taxi driver going in the complete opposite direction of my house.

Me: Umm… sorry but where are you going?

Taxi driver: To your house.

Me: My house is actually the other direction.

He pulls up to the left hand turn lane and we sit for a few minutes at a red light. Since it’s 2 am the roads are dead. It’s just me and him in this horrible taxi ride of bullshit.

Taxi driver: No, I am going the right way.

Me: It’s much faster if you turn right here and go down this road. I can direct you.

Taxi driver: I know where I’m going.

Me: Sorry, I know you can go this way to get there, but it takes twice as long. Can we just go the other way, please?

Taxi driver: Well, I’m already in this left turn lane.

Me: There’s nobody on the roads, I’m sure it’ll be fine if you just go.

Taxi driver: I can’t do that. Don’t worry it doesn’t take any longer going this way.

Me: Yes it does.

Taxi driver: No, no. It’s about the same distance.

I was pretty grumpy from being tired, and my annoyance level was escalating very quickly. I mean who is this guy to contradict me? I’m a paying customer. Don’t try and pull this crap on me man.

Me: Sorry but I have lived here for over twenty years and I can assure you it takes much longer this way.

Taxi driver: No it’s fine. You just relax back there, little girl. I’ll get you home in no time.

Even more annoyed now at being dismissed and called “little girl” in a very disrespectful way.

Me: I think I know the fastest route to my house, man. You just want to go this way so that it costs me more money.

Taxi driver: What? I don’t think so.

Me: ….

Taxi driver: I’ll get you home.

Me: Look, I’ll just get out here I don’t need to spend so much money. I’d rather walk.

I gave him a scowl through the mirror. He sighed at this point and then finally corrected his route and went the proper way.

Taxi driver: Okay fine I go this way.

Me: Thank you.

We rode for the next 10 minutes in horribly tense and uncomfortable silence, although I had a wonderful sense of self-satisfaction from having won the argument.

I think there must be some invisible aura of argument emanating from me because somehow I always end up having bizarre debates with people. Or maybe I just seem really easy to manipulate and rip off. When I was younger I was incredibly shy and so took a lot of crap from people in positions of authority. I also had one really horrible encounter with someone once and ever since then I decided I need to develop a tough skin and stand up for myself. So while I have been developing a confident take-no-crap personality on the inside, my physical self has not caught up yet, so I still have people trying to walk all over me.

Aren’t they surprised when it turns out to be the opposite. I almost enjoy it now. Almost.

Any one else ever have a taxi driver try and take the longest route possible? What did you do?

The Girl Who Believed in Fairy Tales

There was a girl who believed in fairy tales.

So vehemently did she believe that one day, as she sat alone in her room in her little village, patting her rather robust cat, she decided that she would climb to the top of the tallest hill that lay in the forest beyond and wait there for her love. The night of her decision, she went to sleep smiling, imagining what love might feel like.

She imagined it might feel like being hugged from the inside out. Like falling freely off a mountain and landing comfortably in a cushy pile of warm snow.

She also imagined what her love might look like, and how he might act. She thought that he would be strikingly handsome, quick to protect her from harm. Burly, strapping, brave, kind, with only her in his mind, and their future weighing importantly on his conscience.

The next day she set off, leaving everything she knew behind. She wore her favourite pink dress with the lace and puffy sleeves, because she felt it was befitting of a princess, and so she declared herself to be as she began her trek up through the forest and up the hill. Her chubby cat was hot on her heels.

A few days into her journey, when the labour of her trek started to take its toll, and her dress was muddy from the dishevelment of nature, her fat cat died of the strain. She looked back at him and sighed regretfully, for his premature passing had created a delay in her plans and she was hurried to get to the top of the hill so that she might wait there for her love.

Nevertheless, she did love her cat, and so she obliged his memory with enough kindness to dig for him a tiny little grave, where she plopped his newly lifeless fat body in to wither away in the dirt. On the top of his burial she placed a makeshift tombstone, which was as fat as her cat had been, and which she thought honoured his chubby memory very nicely.

With the unpleasantness of that business settled, the girl continued her hike up the hill. It was a very large hill indeed, much larger than she initially thought, and so impossible did the task of reaching the top seem to be that the girl decided that halfway up should do just as well. And so when she at last came upon a stone which she discerned beautiful enough to house her behind, she sat gracefully upon it and began waiting, and waiting, and waiting.

For a full year she waited there, and never even once did she eat, drink, or sleep. Her nourishment came from the air, from the trees and the grass and the rain. She spent every moment imagining how beautiful she must look upon the stone, how graceful, and how awed her love would be when at last he came and beheld her in his own eyes.

Another year passed like this, and then another, until she had been waiting there for ten long years. She wondered at her love’s delay, and thought that though he must be racing toward her, he was encumbered by countless heathens and evils which he must first defeat as a test to claim her love. And so the waiting continued.

And continued.

And continued.

At last, after seventy long years of waiting, the girl’s patience had reached its end. She felt suddenly hungry, thirsty, and tired, and decided she might as well go home. She began to walk down the hill, but found that in her old age her footing was not so stable, and her muscles, deprived for years upon years of exercise, had little strength to keep her upright. But she had always been a woman of determination, and so she carefully stepped her way down the hill. Eventually she came upon her fat cat’s tombstone, but alas it was night and she could not see. She tripped, and went tumbling down down down the hill until at last she amassed at the very bottom amongst a slew of twigs, leaves, and mud.

Covered in disgust, her dress’s puffy sleeves sadly depuffed, the lace ruined, and the pink faded from the long years, the girl lay there in stillness contemplating her very wasted life.

She thought herself a very silly girl indeed.