I have taken the long way around certain aspects of my life. It took me far longer than most who attempted to graduate from university. It took me in directions that, although it felt like a disappointment at the time, led to some of the most lasting and meaningful friendships I could have ever wished for.
It is the same with my travelling aspirations. I have travelled to the UK many times, mainly watching cricket or exploring other interests, but the chance to visit Europe has just arisen. That is partly due to being stupid with money and busy with different aspects of life.
So, when the opportunity arose, I finally decided to take it. A year of semi-planning and saving, and now I’m away. I could have easily gotten to Italy, my chosen destination, and a flight to Florence or Piza. I would be ready to explore the region that my great-great-grandad was from before he emigrated to England.
It’s not that I am averse to flying; that is how I travelled to Belfast as a child with my mum and sister. It is just the long way round, which feels the most apt way. It has helped that shows like Race Across The World have shown what is possible and have come up with some trips to access parts of the professional cricket circuit that have had others questioning my sanity. A slow trip down through France and Switzerland became the obvious choice.
This would feel like a luxury once you take a six-hour coach trip to Edinburgh, where you have no legroom and nearly fall off the coach because you have no feeling in the lower extremities.
The lure of interrailing across stunning countryside would always do it for me. The South Downs may be a special place, but imagine watching the Alps glide into view, and it is enough to make the Long Man of Wilmington want to weep.
It didn’t disappoint. After crossing the channel in the early hours, with the lights of Dover and Calis twinkling at each other, the coach journey into the grotty Bercy station was plain sailing. The bus station wasn’t the kind of place you want to be in the middle of the day, let alone before sunrise on a Sunday morning.
Paris was a means to getting to the good stuff, and it is the type of place to visit with company rather than alone. So we will meet again.
I did take the opportunity to visit a cheese shop, albeit closed at the time, for a photo opportunity with ‘Fromage et ramage’ in the background.
Gare de Lyon is a large station, and while I have visited many in the UK, it took a while to figure out where the trains went.
Two euros later, to visit the toilet, one euro for my bag and another for me, and we were ready to watch the rolling hills of France wizz by at speeds of nearly 180 miles an hour.
Once the Swiss border came into view, things got interesting. Something is fascinating about mountains—not enough to climb to their top, but how they have marked the landscape and continue to look out over the people who live in their shadows, affecting their daily lives.
Changing trains in Basel and Zurichhase made me curious about a country I don’t think I have thought about much. Travel does broaden the horizons.
Bellinzona was chosen more by luck than design, as Lucca, the proper destination, felt too far away to finish the job in one sitting. A UNESCO World Heritage Site is worth a visit of its own. A town in the Italian-speaking part of Switzerland, it offers a clean and tidy vibe that if I wasn’t so tired and in need of sleep, I would have explored more.
Once I knew I would visit Italy, switching it up on Duolingo and learning some Italian would be great. So far, nothing has come out every time I have reached for the right thing to say. Even though I know the right thing to say in a couple of interactions, I have been able to make a sound. I hope it changes in the coming days, or it could get awkward.
We shall see. Tomorrow, I will finally arrive in the region of my ancestors and have the time to find out more about them and, just as importantly, myself.
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