Bern, Basel, Breisgau

The last train ticket I would need on my trip was actually the first one I bought, and I distinctly remember the guy behind the counter telling me that I was booking a specific train, because I was getting a discount. I accidentally booked a rather late train, because the salesman rounded up from the time that I gave him, and I got distracted by the discount.

When I got to the train station in Bern, though, I actually looked closely at my ticket and realized that there was no reservation. I asked a conductor to be sure, and he confirmed my realization. Had I known that I could choose my train, I would've left a little earlier. I'm glad that I thought I was leaving late, because I wouldn't have gone to the movies otherwise, but I still could've gotten home earlier.

I did actually leave half an hour earlier than I had planned, but I had a feeling that I'd still get home on schedule. While trains left Bern for Basel every half hour, I knew that trains wouldn't leave Basel for Freiburg that often. No matter: I was on my way home!

When I got on the train in Bern, I first thought I'd sit in the quiet car. I changed my mind when I noticed a little sign that prohibited listening to music (even with earbuds!), and I really wanted to listen to Tim Curry sing 'I'm Going Home'. I settled for the 'loud' car, only I had no idea how loud it would get.

I regretted my decision almost instantaneously. The car I had chosen was the same one chosen by a bunch of Swiss soccer hooligans. For the record, they're at least as annoying as German ones. I tried putting on my iPod, but I couldn't hear anything, disappointingly. I decided to read instead. I suppose I could've easily gotten up and moved, but my tiredness and stubbornness outweighed my annoyance.

The guys got nicer when a little girl of two, interested in all the noise, came running down the aisle followed by her mother. She could've tamed a Bernese bear, she was so cute. The boys asked the mom how old the girl was and what her name was. I thought they'd be a little quieter after this encounter, but they just started yelling the girl's name and weaving it into their soccer chants. I was happy whenever the girl came back, because she at least caused the guys' volume to decrease a little. The boys got out before I did, so I had a little peace.

The train from Bern ended at Basel SBB (the main train station), so I waited for a small train that would take me to Basel Badischer Bahnhof. There I could get on a regional train to Freiburg. My earlier suspicion regarding the infrequency of these regional trains to Germany was confirmed, so I waited at Basel Bad Bf, bought some juice and read a bit until it was time to go.

Finally (!), at 12:03 am on Sunday, we pulled into Freiburg. The tram wasn't coming for another 20 minutes, so I decided to walk home—I'd be home by the time the tram came, and I'd be moving my cold limbs. I turned off all my senses, which had been set to super alert for nigh on two weeks, and turned on autopilot. I let my subconscious guide me home: no checking of maps at every intersection. It was a great trip, but even successful expeditions make you realize how nice it is to be home.