Switzerland. And the Swiss.

So we went to Switzerland.

The Swiss are a funny bunch, aren’t they? But tcha! I digress. 

We went to Switzerland, and I think that it might as well be noted here that, yes, Switzerland is the most beautiful place on the planet – it’s truly astounding. Outrageous: compellingly gorgeous –  just built for adjectives. And it’s not showoff-y, god bless it – just huge and awe-inspiring and, well, < insert  superlative here>. It’s  all of that and big and covered with snow.

Here’s a photo. You'll need to double-click. The tiny things in between the hills are houses. 

We took Stevie with us, partly to see if she’d get mugged again (she didn’t) but mostly because we needed her German. Here’s a photo of Stevie and me, and behind us an avalanche descending really quite quickly. Don’t we look calm and unbothered?

There was a storm on our last night, and a rude chap who stole our car spot and had the gall to smug at us when we mentioned it, scored a bunch of rooftiles on the top of his blue BMW. I don’t say this to gloat, you understand – I merely mention it as a warning to those of you with blue BMWs. Don’t be smug - we have Swiss Weather Gods on our side.

But we don’t have the Swiss onside. The Swiss rather hated us (can you believe it?) We kept going into their shops and trying to buy things and then we’d insist on saying thank you and otherwise ruining their days. Sometimes we even said Hi to them on the street (it’s the French coming out in us – what can I say?) thus undermining their General Neutrality. 

One of them tried to kill Paul.

 I mean - can you imagine? 


Honestly!