Inspired by Danielle’s exemplary journalistic venture, ohtheplacesivepeed.blogspot.com, I penned this elegantly cultured poem while flying back to land-of-the-siestas from Geneva, also known as land-of-the-$15-gas station-sandwich. While writing this intellectual piece, I was also taking advantage of Swiss Air’s generous baguette, cheese, wine and chocolate freebies. Hey, when in _______!
I had the most epic squat
whilst hiking in Zermatt.
Snowy Swiss Alps were all I could see
as I proceeded with this alpine pee.
But as bad as I had to go,
It came as slow as glacier flow
I suppose fellow admirers of the Matterhorn
Looked at public peeing with scorn
But what else was I to do?
At least I didn’t poo.
Want to know what’s even more sophisticated than this delightful little ditty? I had to look up the title on Google Translate. Because, sadly, me no know no Frenchy. Our lack of knowledge of French beyond oui, merci, croquette, and croissant led to infinite problems asking for directions, or finding out prices before paying $5 for a baguette in a grocery store. Virtually everyone in Switzerland spoke French + three other beautiful languages, but rarely did they speak Spanish or that bloody English. Spanish may be great for California, but learning French would definitely have proved more beneficial in our European travels. At least I should learn how to say, “Where’s the bathroom?”