The clouds are hanging heavy on the thickly wooded mountains, like eyes, tears slipping by as if the Swiss countryside itself was somber at our departure. I'd be lying if I said my feelings didn't mirror those to a tee. Just three days in Flims has one questioning the basic principles and priorities that an individual has to live by. Still malleable to a certain extent I feel as if the time is soon approaching in which these lifestyle choices will be set in stone. And Flims is one of the few places where I wouldn't mind having roots. This would be true strictly based on the raw beauty of the town. The sheer magnitude of the Swiss Alps, for lack of a more contrived cliché, is awe-inspiring. Lag la Cuama is something out of a fairy-tale tucked away in a small valley with a green meadow island fenced in by tree groves and crystal blue water. The altitude and brisk summer water make the simple act of swimming to the diving rock an exhilarating experience, nearly as exhilarating as jumping the seven meters off the rock itself. It's a land that we all want to retire to, but at the same time, it pains me to leave now. Swisseland, you will always hold a special place in my heart. Danke, Steppii.
[TIME TO TRAIN SLEEP]
