Descriptive Essay On Pari

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I had fallen asleep several hours earlier in the soft, worn, red seat in the corner of an empty train car. The rhythmic sound of the train track combined with a repetitive falling rain had abated me into a much-needed slumber, after spending much of the day navigating the chaotic and often unfriendly streets of Paris. I had collapsed in the seat as soon as I boarded, thrilled to have some isolation and contented to be leaving the chaos of the big city. I was roused from my rest by the shrill sound of a train whistle, and a sudden lurch which announced that we were coming to a stop. I dug a dog-eared copy of my trusty map out of my right jeans pocket and saw that I had arrived at my stop. I glanced out the window to my left and the flashing neon yellow confirmed that we were at the train station in Interlachen, Switzerland. I hauled my lumbering belongings onto my back just as the train doors opened. The smell of diesel fuel hit my face as I stepped carefully down the stairs, still slightly travel-weary and disoriented. The train station itself looked like most of the dozens of train stations I had been in. Bustling crowds, loudspeaker announcements overhead, the constant ticking of electronic schedules flashing on each wall. I swiveled around in each direction until I spotted the exit sign to my right proclaiming “Welcome to Switzerland.” Hiking my backpack higher up on my back, I put my head down and headed determinedly towards the exit. When I had boarded the train in
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