Three Hours to Paradise

We boarded a train in paradise and rode for three hours to paradise... We began where Swiss German is spoken and ended where Italian is spoken. We went from the land of cow bells to the land of platform heels, fur coats, black eyeliner and toy dogs with sparkly leashes. We purchased pizzas to eat by a lake where swans swam and gulls flew. We ate German sausage sandwiches made from homemade bread and sharp mustard and sipped Rivell, while sitting atop a wall overlooking the beautiful glacier-carved valley of Switzerland. We smiled at a child playing European football with his father and reminisced about doing the same with our daughters long ago in a California park.  All in all, not a bad way to spend an afternoon.