All this week I have been in Germany but yesterday afternoon it looked, and felt like I was in China.
I visited the Chinese Botanical Gardens in Frankfurt which was awash with bright colours of purple and green shimmering in the spring sun. The architecture was also very similar to that of China, or what i know of China, with the long sloping tops and the intricate detail etched into the wooden rooftops. There was a small lake leading to a pond right in the centre of it. I wasn’t the only one there as the place seemed to be quite busy with people making the most of the rare sunshine.
After my short jaunt to another country I headed back to the hostel in Frankfurt to pack for the following days leave. Once I had prepared my stuff for the bus I sat in the common room with a few others and took in a couple of games of American Pool.
I thought it best to get an early night so I was fresh faced but unfortunately this didn’t happen. Ultimately I ended up getting into bed around 3am but I was unable to get any sleep as I was terrified I would not wake up in time.
As soon as the clock struck 7am, I jumped out of bed and went downstairs for my breakfast and to board the bus to Lyon.
The coach headed south east and even passed through Switzerland to get to France. Unfortunately due to my dozing, I missed quite a bit of the German countryside but tried to keep myself awake as we went through Switzerland to ensure I saw as much as possible. Unfortunately, once again, this wasn’t entirely possible but I did see some of Bern and a bit of Basel. Passed Lake Geneva but couldn’t see the lake itself, the coach did collect a horde of people from Geneva centre though.
Getting into Switzerland was a bit risky as we were stopped by Passport control and the guards took our passports away to the office for some reason. The guard had a few questions about my travels and it was very reminiscent of my journey into Norway. Getting out of Switzerland was a completely different affair, no stopping, just waved straight through.
Finally arrived in Lyon at 9pm, 12 hours after I first boarded the bus. The guide to get to the hostel told me which train to take but I ignored their advice. Having sat for the past 12 hours the last thing I wanted to do was continue my laziness. Instead I took it upon myself to walk for an hour in rain to find the hostel. Unlike my last experience with rain this was actually quite a relief, reminded me of the great British weather and so the walk didn’t even feel like it took that long!