Heagline goes here

Although I am most definitely in Europe, it hardly feels like it. Except that the z and the y are switched on the keyboard and it's really quite strange.

But I have done some things that are very Euro.

Here is a list for your reading pleasure:

Changed clothes in a graffiti-ridden train bathroom.
Jumped onto a train track and under a train so I could retreive my book.
Stayed in a hostel, which is so not like the movie.
Had a Thai beer in a Swiss-Thai restaurant.
Had gross cider in a creepy under-hostel bar thing.
Bought flat, brown boots.
Bought a loaf of bread and some cheese for lunch and ate it at a train station.

Here is a list of why I haven't realized my full Euro potential:

I do not speak a word of German, so I am forced to be one of those annoying American tourists who expects everyone to know English. Which they all do. But still.
I cannot ski, so while my stepsister is skiing the Alps, I am here, in the Happy Inn hostel, blogging.

Being over here makes me hate America for its ugliness and refusal to conserve land and energy. Also, for being stubborn and not instilling a popular, functional train system. Everyone here uses trains. All the time. Why don't we have them?!

There is a mountain in Interlaken called "Grindelwald." ZES!