Yoga Travel

The Art of Hospitality

From Paris to Zurich, I declared that I would absolutely throw out my itinirary. Literally. I cancelled all of my hostels that I’d spent hours reserving before I left the States and said, as it is my motto, fuck it.As I sat under the “big clock” at the train station in Zurich waiting for Barbara my “host” I had no idea what I was doing….I was in a strange country, that’s coffee costed eight dollars for a small cup and there wasn’t a “Heidi” look alike or anyone from a Ricola commercial anywher