When I first moved to London, one of the things that intrigued me most about the UK was the country walks. Unlike hilly San Francisco, the flat areas of Britain offer miles of walking paths, some of which take multiple days to cover. They cut through public property and private, farmland and country lanes, and they make popular day trips from London.
They call Valais the California of Switzerland. I can see why. The trees bejeweled with fresh summer fruit, the rows of vineyards along the valleys, the excellent food, and the beautiful wildflowers all make me feel as if I’m traveling in my home state. But I’m not. I’m in the Swiss Alps. Nendaz, to be specific.
I am afraid of heights. Rabidly. Viciously. Afraid of heights. I discovered this as a child when I went to the top of the Space Needle in Seattle, and again as a teenager on the first level of the Eiffel Tower in Paris. I was reminded in a treetop canopy in Borneo last year, and again this week when I faced my biggest fear in the UK: the South Bank’s London Eye.