Areuse Gorge

I woke up while the sky was still mostly dark, to set off on the first bus to Nyon train station. I had one weekend a month that I stayed in Switzerland where I was working, instead of taking the five am Saturday flight back home to Alicante for the weekend. The route back to Geneva on Sunday was then via Lisbon, Amsterdam or Madrid since there were no direct flights that day. It felt like a reprieve to have a Saturday that I wasn’t getting up at three in the morning, getting up at seven felt indulgently luxurious.