This summer my family went on a two-week long trip to Europe. We landed in Milan, Italy and did a big loop around the Alps. We drove from Italy to Switzerland, into Austria, through Slovenia, and into Croatia, and then back into Italy, departing from Venice airport. The most memorable part of my trip was when we stayed at a lovely little Swiss chalet in Switzerland. When we arrived in a small village in Switzerland, there, right in front of my eyes, was a towering mountain. We drove up narrow and windy roads into thick fog, which I realized was actually the low-hanging clouds. We finally arrived at our house rental, it was nestled on the side of a mountain! The owner of the house said that there was a dairy farmer that lived up the road. I was really curious.

The next day, my dad and I went on a little adventure up the road to see if we could find the farm. As we walked, we got to see a herd of cattle grazing in the sloped fields. The cows were so close to the fence, we were able to touch their wet, slobbery noses and let them lick our hands. Nearly every cow had a bell hanging from its neck so that there were beautiful bell sounds echoing through the valleys. As we returned to the house, we spotted an old wooden barn. My dad thought that this barn must belong to the dairy farmer and suggested that we call on him to see if there was any milk available. Sadly, no one was home and we returned back to the rental house empty-handed and disappointed. I couldn’t let my disappointment go so I decided to write a letter to the farmer that I would leave at his doorstep with some money for the milk I was requesting.

I spent the rest of the afternoon writing him a letter in German. I told him that I was a little girl visiting from Canada and was excited to try some of his fresh milk. A couple of days later, as me and my brother were playing in the stream on the property in the evening, the farmer drove to our house in his black Jeep. He walked onto our lawn, holding two large jugs of milk. We used Google Translate to communicate with him. He said it was only fifty-three cents for two gallons of milk. We did not take all of the milk, but we still gave him five Swiss francs.

In the morning, I drank the cold, fresh milk. It still tasted like grass. It was the freshest milk I have ever tasted.