Ending my abroad experience in Switzerland has arguably been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to endure. I’ve only been gone for three days, and for some reason I already miss the sound of the trains rushing by and the ridiculously expensive food that constantly had me checking the balance of my bank account.
Now I’ve realized that I can’t glance out my window and see the French Alps across the lake. I’ve realized that my default foreign language of French is no longer helpful. I’ve realized that all the customs that shocked me at the beginning are ones that I’ve grown to love. I’ve realized that I can’t just hop on a train with my half-pass and voie 7 and travel to basically any country in Europe.
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