I ate an entire block of Swiss cheese. I fucking love cheese.

Swiss trains are comically expensive.

Walked up to where the road split for a hitching spot and found the largest berry patch I’ve seen in awhile. Spent twenty minutes staining my hands and stuffing my face with wild blackberries.

Campground philosophy: “Same, same, but different.”

Someone asked where I was from. I just pointed to the bar blasting Springsteen’s Born in the USA and said “that place.”

I saw a lawnmower Roomba named Mike. Truly, we are living in the Age of Wonders.

If you’re driving a Corvette and I’m hitching, you really don’t have to put your hands up in the universal gesture of “I wish I could stop but there’s no room in here!” We both know that even if you had room, you wouldn’t stop anyway.

A hitching conversation: “What do you do for work?” “I paint the lines on the road.” “Did you paint these lines?” “Yes.”

I have yet to see a German rap act this summer that didn’t confuse the shit out of me. This week’s VIP is Deichkind.

I don’t know where to go or how to get there so I start to blind hitch. An accountant picks me up. “Where are you going?” he asks. “North.” “I’m going to Basel.” I go to Basel. It may not be the best way to travel, but it’s how I travel.

One of the standard rules of hitching alone: Don’t fall asleep in a stranger’s car. I have around a 50% success rate on this one.

“You shouldn’t sit there. I just saw someone pissing on that spot ten minutes ago.” Awesome.

Deja vu at the east end of the Interlaken highway ramp. Then I remembered the first time I hitched it Europe was from this spot so not really deja vu, just another missing memory.

I found a really nice cafe to work at in the mornings at Open Air Gampel and by nice I mean their bathroom is spectacular.

A hearty thanks to bartender Philip and his girlfriend who picked me up at eleven at night right before I walked into what I thought would be a short tunnel but turned out to be six or seven miles long. Also additional thanks to that elderly Swiss couple that might have saved my life when I got stuck at the roof of the world with night coming on.

Gear Report: I’ve been out of deodorant for over a week. I thought I could be that person who lives with their natural musk. Turns out that I find my natural musk nauseating. I bought some at a grocery store, but all they have is a roll on which makes me feel like I bought deodorant in 1988.

Injury Report: Nothing new to report although the owner of that really nice cafe might argue this point.