[Written on August 28th]
Getting up when the mist still lingers over the Zürich lake, saying goodbye to Maija and taking the tram to the train station. A heaviness in my head, hoping it’s just tiredness – sensing it’s probably not. Changing trains in Geneva, the only things I see of it are some artsy cafes on the other side of the train tracks – but I like it. Maybe next time, I’ll stay here for a night or two.
Later, rushing down through deep valleys at the French border, listening to Rilo Kiley and thinking about Bolivia. I listened almost only to Rilo Kiley when traveling up and down the Andean slopes eight years ago. Funny how traveling makes connections like this, with memories and places. Like it’s a state of being, partly disconnected from everyday life, whatever is considered baseline.
Further south in France, agricultural fields and thinking: Does this make me better – or am I just fooling myself? Traveling by train. The environmental aspect – how so many environmental researchers fly all over the world for conferences and fieldwork and the cognitive dissonance in that and it’s hard. Staying in touch with oneself. On some level, these three days of traveling by train has made me feel it’s going to be easier to meet my own eyes in the mirror, but on another level: Is it that simple? I don’t know.
Arriving at the azure coast, the train running right next to sun-drenched beaches lined with palm trees. Enormous luxury yachts in the bright blue water. Split worlds.
Katja Malmborg 