Switzerland Part 2

Grindelwald

I'm telling you, these Sprinter van suspensions are stiff. They're as stiff as my coccyx after the waterfall fall. I said coccyx. 

While we were trying to figure out the insanely confusing parking situation near the train station outside Grindelwald, we drove over some railway tracks which sent the van into a violent lateral to-and-fro, causing all the cupboard doors to fly open and everything to fling out onto the floor. The same had happened in Norway, but this one was even worse. That time, Rach's fancy new teapot smashed into pieces; this time we lost a wine glass and two candle holders. Pure devastation.

If you're visiting Grindelwald for just a few hours, do what we ended up doing and park in the paid car park in the town itself. It actually saves you money, as the parking fee is less than the price of two train tickets from the free parking areas near the train station a mile away. Oh, the other option is to walk. Forgot about that.

Grindelwald is a tiny little place set in a particularly spectacular spot in the Bernese Alps. We enjoyed the magnificent views from a bar, before retiring inside for an epic game of Jenga which Rach won on the last possible brick. I could go on about that but I won't. I also left a lovely note in the local church's message book which read: ''Hello! Love from Sean from England. Age 37.'' It was a great message, sure, but unfortunately I got my age wrong; I'm actually 36. Is this the beginning of my never knowing how old I am? You never think it's gonna happen to you...

We had a quiet day after Grindelwald. I watched some bulls trying to shag a cow while Rach did a spreadsheet. It was actually nice to see cows doing something other than eating for once, even if it was sexual assault.

Lake Oeschinensee

Lake Oeschinensee is a smallish mountain lake near a town called Kandersteg, to the west of Grindelwald and Lauterbrunnen. It was highly recommended to us by Tania and Adam and it did not disappoint. It's a magical place. Just completely breathtaking. The perfect blue-green lake was surrounded by snow capped slopes and lush woodland containing all kinds of colourful plant life. It's hard to imagine a more beautiful area anywhere in the world. It was so beautiful it turned Rach cross-eyed. Well, that's what I initially thought, but it turned out she was just looking at a droplet of water hanging of a twig millimetres from her face.

We got the cable car up, where there was a shuttle bus waiting to take us to the lake. We declined it as we fancied a walk. When we came to get it on the way back, we learned it was £8 each. Absolutely ridiculous. We walked again.

Swiss colours

We were blown away by the colours of the scenery in Switzerland on more than one occasion. On one particular drive to a town called Bulle we were gobsmacked by the forested hills of vivid reds, bright yellows and burnt oranges which dominated the rocky river rushing alongside the road to our right. We had to pull over to take some photos. Again, further on, we had to stop. The mountainside to the right of us was covered in a mass of vibrant yellow and green trees. Stunning!

In Bulle we grabbed something to eat after a quick drink in a badly over-lit bar. As we walked into the bar the staff froze and stared back at us, as if our entrance had shocked them. Bit strange. We got a much better reception from the big touch screen in Burger King.

Leysin

Leysin is an alpine resort way up in the mountains just to the east of Lake Geneva. We found a motorhome stop with an electricity connection for just 10 francs per night, next to a big leisure centre. 

The second we pulled up, a bloke appeared at the window of the only other camper in the area and gestured at us to 'shoo' with both hands. We hadn't even turned the engine off. What the hell was this guy all about? 

I got out to plug our electric cable in. The guy was straight out of his van and approaching. I asked him why he was telling us to move. He didn't speak much English, so instead just pointed up at the sky. I wasn't entirely sure what that was supposed to mean, but I translated it as 'because of Coronavirus'. 

There were a few ways I could respond to this. Firstly, citing Coronavirus was bonkers. Presumably none of us would be spending much time sat outside our vans, seeing as the temperature was beyond nipple-erecting. Secondly, we had to park next to them otherwise we wouldn't be able to reach the electrical sockets with our cable. Thirdly, there's a right way to communicate with people, and immediately shooing them off with your hands like rats the second you see them isn't it. I opted to just tell him to mind his own business, really hoping he understood. He shrugged and went back to his van.

Nid D'Aigles

For such a tiny place, Leysin has a fucking enormous school. It felt like we were walking past it for about twenty minutes during our trek up through the village. We were on our way to Nid D'Aigles (translation, Eagle's Point); a lookout point in the forested hills overlooking the Rhone Plain, where we enjoyed amazing views of the mountainous landscape and the eastern shore of Lake Geneva, the place we were heading to next.

Montreux

One of the first things we saw in Montreux was a uni-cyclist cruising up the main road. That was different.

What we enjoyed most about Montreux, apart from the circus-inspired traffic, was walking along the pretty, flower-lined path which runs along the edge of Lake Geneva. They were replanting a section of it while we were there; it was clear the place is well looked after. 

Montreux is famous for its global jazz festival and there are lots of musical monuments scattered along the lakefront, including a big saxophone, a Miles Davis bust, and a full body statue of Freddie Mercury (who is heavily associated with the town). There is also a garden which houses about a dozen black statues of various historical musical figures. We were swimming in culture! I managed to get my photo taken next to a giant squashed pumpkin. Culture, culture, culture.

The breakdown

We were in a car park right on the water's edge of a little port just outside Lausanne. After an hour spent teasing the murderous local swan we got back into the van to get on our way, but Higgins wouldn't start. We tried again. Again, he failed. It's crazy how the stress levels rise immediately in this situation. After 16 months and 20,000 miles of travel without even a whiff of trouble, the van had decided to break down just weeks before we were due back in the UK. We'd traveled through 24 countries, and it chose now, in exorbitant Switzerland - the most expensive of the lot - to give up on us. 

It was looking like we were stuck with PsychoSwan for the foreseeable. There was a sign forbidding stays of longer than 48 hours in the area, but thankfully it seemed nobody ever came round to check. This was confirmed by another van dwelling couple who were parked up next to us. I say 'van', theirs was more a massive lorry. They said they'd been there for weeks, so we could relax. Not that we had any choice; the engine just would not turn over.

Rach became worried she'd put petrol in rather than diesel at the last fuel stop, but the station confirmed she had put diesel in when we called them. We didn't know whether to be relieved or not. On the one hand, putting petrol in a diesel could've been disastrous, but what if the actual problem was far worse?

Pizza delivery fee-induced stress intensification interlude

A few old boys from the nautical club next door came over a couple of times throughout the afternoon to see how we were getting on. They also bought us some beers to cheer us up, God bless them. Top notch stuff too - 'Boxer Old' it's called. Lovely drop. The lorry-dwellers next door had a young boxer, a really playful little pup who helped alleviate the stress levels a bit. We also had a mechanic coming out to us the next day, so things were looking up. We decided to try and take our minds off things until then.

That night we ordered some not inexpensive takeaway pizzas. We were too stressed to cook. Upon receiving the pizzas we were surprised to learn there was a delivery fee, despite the joint only being about 3 minutes away on foot and Rach being told to wait back at the van after she'd put the order in. The delivery fee? Eight quid. Four for each pizza. Oh yeah, each pizza had it's own delivery fee. What in the name of Satan's arse hair is that all about?! I could write pages on the emotions this policy stirred in me, but I'll leave it. It's too upsetting.

The breakdown continued

The next day we were back at it. Well, sort of. We weren't actually doing much. The problem is, I am bloody awful at cars, and Rach isn't much better. Luckily, we had internet access and we know people, so we'd been able to canvass online opinion on what the engine issue might be. A few people had come back saying they thought it could be air in the fuel lines. Or was it fuel in the airlines? Fuck knows. We got some WD40 to spray into the fuel (air?) filter to try and get the engine to fire up, so we could at least drive to the mechanic and save what would probably be billions of pounds on the call out fee alone. We'd probably be charged a fee for each of the guy's wheels or something.

Relief! The WD40 worked! We drove to the mechanic, who said he didn't know for sure what the issue was, but he'd noticed a loose cap on top of the flange mystifier (whatever) and tightened it with a plastic cable tie (£20). We would just have to keep our fingers crossed that that'd sorted it.

Halloween

I went for a classic look with my pumpkin this year: triangular eyes, triangular nose and serrated grin. My last effort had been a full blown Michael Myers and, while nobody had denied that it was indeed a masterpiece, it just wasn't as spooky as the classic triangles and jagged teeth look. God I love Halloween. 

That night we watched Halloween (the original - obviously) and Psycho. I could only source the Gus Van Sant remake of Psycho unfortunately, but at least it wasn't Ghost Ship.

The day after Halloween (Hoxing Day) we treated ourselves to a stay in a proper camp site, which had a charity box for unwanted clothes. We donated quite a lot, although of course not everything; it was Hoxing Day, not Halloween. Jesus.

Rach's Birthday in Lausanne

Rach couldn't possibly have wished for a better venue for her 31st birthday than Lausanne - a city built on a hill, with hundreds of steps leading in and out of town. She'd really missed steps and hills since Cinque Terre, bless her.

We enjoyed our day in the city. It's the second largest of the Lake Geneva towns, after Geneva itself. Rach bought some extremely fancy chocolate and we had cocktails at a great open air bar called 'Les Arches!' Naturally, I would have spent an enormous sum of money on her, but due to the recent pizza delivery trauma (that figure again: eight pounds) we ended up keeping things fairly modest. The engagement ring was still keeping her going anyway, to be fair. AND I SHOULD THINK SO.

Still, a lovely day. Plus, she was now well and truly into her 30's, which was very exciting I can only assume.

Recommended park up near Lausanne:

46.504902, 6.66507 (lat, lng)