Update

I am sitting in Pierre's great kitchen which is very bright despite the rainy day. I dare not complain about the rain because we need it so badly. So, while everybody is at work, I am spending a quiet day alone after 3 days of intense socializing. Later this afternoon I'll take the train to Geneva.

I feel like I have slipped back into my old skin, into my old self. The bakery already seems like a bad dream. I left Zuoz on Saturday after having spent 3 days trying to make plans. I managed to plan the first 48 hours or so, but no further. I am inventing my trip one day at a time and since I bought a pass for the trains I can crisscross Switzerland as I feel and as opportunities arise between now and my departure to the US. I never thought the day would come when I'd be looking forward to getting away from Zuoz, and would indeed leave without regret. This time, truly, I couldn't wait to get out of the valley in which I was increasingly feeling like a prisoner.

The departure was sweetened by the fact that on Friday I was invited for lunch by the colleague from Zuoz who had given me so many rides to/from the bakery. She had been saying since November that she wanted to cook the local specialty for me, capuns, and I had given up all hope of it actually happening. The fact that it finally worked out meant much more than a pleasant lunch with her (with The Wedding playing out on TV in the background!): at last, after living in the Engadin for 15 months, someone had invited me to their house!

Before leaving I also took a cleansing hike to the limit of the tree line to take in the first wildflowers. Within less than a week I transitioned from downhill skiing to hiking in meadows pink with heather, studded with anemones and dotted with clumps of violets and the first gentians. Rebirth, for nature and for me too!

Reaching the lowlands I felt wrapped up, overtaken by the lushness of the vegetation, the exuberance of all the flowers and blooming trees. Lilac everywhere, purple, white, lavender, perfumes, scents, smells... a feast for the senses. Morning coffee on steps in the sun, happy hour on decks overlooking gardens, meals in gardens framed by clusters of wisteria... Meals no longer taken alone while reading the paper, but shared with people who love me, people who have known me forever, people who support me and stand by me, offering me their guest beds, their food, their conversations and laughter, their hugs and kisses. Friends who will indulge my love for the lake, take me on a walk amid nesting swans and herons. Friends who find an extra bicycle and lead me through fields, along water, by marinas, to coffee shops with decks overlooking the water...

Getting to Neuchatel was emotional. Most of my friends actually live in the small towns near Neuchatel, and so rather than ending my trip in Neuchatel, I merely changed trains. Except that I had a half hour waiting time, plenty time to become very aware that nobody I knew was standing at the top of the stairs, and that indeed Neuchatel itself is foreign to me now that I can no longer visit my father.

I don't know where I am going, I don't know what I am doing, but I am having fun. I had fun huddling under the trees during the violent but brief hail storm; fun exploring small towns on foot or bike, fun attending a contemporary opera composed by a local musician in the renovated old church. I am enjoying this new transition, the time out. Thank you, Eliane and Alain, Marlyse, Jacques and Carole, Isabelle, Pierre, Nicole and Laksmi.

Meanwhile the sun has come out. It's time to take a walk among the vineyards.


Anemone pulsatilla - above Zuoz















Nesting swan in the harbor of Auvernier















On bicycle through the old village of Le Landeron.















Canola field at the foot of the Jura mountains. Le Landeron