Zurich – Washington, D.C.

Posted by beth on December 13, 2009

I arrived in Zurich rather late and realized immediately that I’d forgotten that I don’t speak German. Not a bit. I don’t know how to say “train station” or “airport” or “hostel” or “help.” And yet there I was trying to figure out how to get from the airport to the main station so I could take the #7 tram to my hostel.

After much confusion and bewildered staring at the train ticket machine, a woman offered to help me. In English. I got a 24 hour ticket, which I didn’t really need, but it wasn’t that expensive. Shoot, it was probably cheaper than the one-way ticket from the Rome train station to the airport there, and I got to use it to get from the airport to the main station to the hostel, and then from the hostel back to the main station and to the airport again the next morning. That’s what I call a deal.

The hostel turned out to be super-nice. Probably the best hostel I’ve ever stayed in. It was clean, had good breakfast AND sheets included, and I had cute lil roommates – Pia, a German cook and Alice, an Australian wanderer who sounded exactly like Yosemite Sam when she talked in her sleep. About Paris Hilton. Good times. I didn’t sleep very well, but I figured that would actually work out in my favor. I’d be sleepy the next day, I’d nap on the plane, and then the jet lag wouldn’t be so bad.

On my way to the main station, I stopped off at one of the THREE H&Ms within about two blocks. I would have gone to all of them if I’d had time, but I was kind of pushing it as it was, so I just went to one.

I made it to the plane just in the nick of time and took my seat next to a bald girl who was listening to some world music with a very strong drum beat. Turns out, she was this chick, Gemini Award winner, Christine Ghawi. We hit it off immediately with a conversation about environmental responsibility. Then we realized that was a really serious conversation for two people who didn’t know each other’s names, so we introduced ourselves, and then we started flirting with this older gentleman flight attendant, who would later give us each a free cup of Chardonnay. I wish I could say he gave us glasses of Chardonnay, but he didn’t. We got plastic airplane cups, but the wine was good.

I didn’t sleep at all on the NINE-AND-A-HALF-HOUR FLIGHT to Washington. Not a wink. I yawned a lot. I felt tired. But I couldn’t sleep. So there went my master plan for beating jet lag. I did, however, get to watch 500 Days of Summer, The Time Traveler’s Wife and the tail end of Inglourious Basterds. I hadn’t seen the first two yet, so that was good, and the third is just good, so that was good too. I still can’t get over how amazing that guy was. I really hope he wins something.

Anyhoe, I got to DC, and after a ridiculously long customs line and a MAD HOUSE at baggage claim, I finally made it out of the airport, where Rachel had just arrived to pick me up. We spent a lovely weekend together, playing Legos with Annabelle and watching the new Disney movie (I liked it), and now I’m back in the airport. Ugh.

I’m not over the jet lag yet, and I’ve learned now that even though you go to sleep and wake up at normal times, that doesn’t mean you’re over it. However, I’m hopeful (with fingers crossed) that because I’m so tired, I’ll be able to sleep on the flight to Portland and beat the jet lag down. This plan sounds fatally familiar. Time to board.