Arrived at last!

Wednesday, 9 September

Well, so much for driving up to the airport: no bookable parking spaces available.  So it was back to Station Cars for the ride to the station (they had quoted for the ride all the way to LCY, but it was a bit more than I’d expected).  So having consolidated the packing to one carry-on bag per man, we decided to take the train, deciding at London Bridge whether to continue by rail or get a taxi.  We opted for the former, and it served us well enough - despite the almost painful noise of the Jubilee line train.  

We had time for tea and a sandwich before boarding, and were in time to see the incoming plane arrive, hence we knew which way to start walking.  Needless to say it stopped at the westernmost gate of the airport, so we were glad we’d slimmed down the luggage.  It was the first time we’d flown in an Embraer E2, so, although the take-off was impressive, the leg room was not, and the cabin was so noisy that we couldn’t hear the announcements - or indeed each other.  Still unlike our last three attempts, it got us to Zürich with minimal delay.  We were then treated to an interesting bus tour of the airport - shame it was dark by then.  We were next subjected to the new fingerprints and mugshot process at ZRH, and though it wasted a bit of time, it was less of a trial than we’d feared.  But so bloody unnecessary, had we had the sense to stay in the EU.

The ride on to Bern was quick and painless, though it was disappointing that there was no service in the restaurant.  We’d stocked up on a few essentials at Zürich airport - just as well, since nothing was open in Bern station by the time we got there.  It took us a while to find the tram stop we needed, but we found it eventually, and were deposited not far from our flat.  The flat is spacious, and it’s well furnished and equipped - just as well, given what we’ve paid for it, and the fact that we couldn’t use it on the first night of the rental.  

Thursday

The plan was to take a ride up the Niesenbahn to the summit, which offers fantastic views.  We were optimistic as we left Bern in perfect sunny weather.  The cloud built as we travelled south, and by the time we got to Spiez it was clear that the mountain tops were wreathed in cloud.  We opted to stay on the train and carry on over the Lötschberg to Brig.  Good decision: on the other side of the mountain the weather was perfect once again.  As we’d arranged to meet our friend Matthias mid-afternoon at Belp, we stopped in Brig only long enough to have a pizza in the rather good station buffet. 

Matthias had a short-notice opportunity to visit a historic amphibian plane at the airport: it was due to leave just as our train arrived in Belp, so we missed seeing it.  We certainly heard it though: the Grumman Albatross is powered by Wright radial engines, which you don’t hear often these days.

Matthias kindly invited us back to his flat for tea, and then even more kindly drove us back to our flat in Weissenbühl, and will then have had a rotten drive home in rush-hour traffic complicated by roadworks.

After a quick wash and brush-up, it was off to Pam’s for dinner.  Despite the fact that she was preparing for an epic journey to various -stans two days later, she had prepared a meal for seven: us, old friends Lesley and Carlo and a couple who had lived in Dundee before moving to Bern.  Splendid evening in good company, but after the efforts of the last few days, I wasn’t on top form, and we left fairly early.

Friday

Off to Bellinzona, with a brief stop in Luzern, where we each had a snack at the station and a stroll down to the lakeside and the somewhat phallic displays of busy lizzies.  The Lucerne Festival was just coming to an end, so I took a quick look at the programme.  To my surprise, there was to be an organ recital the following day, given by none other than Thomas Ospital, whom we heard playing in Lagrasse some years ago.  His recital was memorable: he’s the only organist we heard in Lagrasse who managed to get the registration right on the rather over-powered organ.  I was sorry we had to give it a miss: the return train from Bellinzona would have been a bit much - and the ticket price for the recital was distinctly Swiss…

We took the train through the old Gotthard tunnel, enjoying the amazing scenery on the way.  The photo shows the final view of the church at Wassen, which one sees from the train three times - below, level and above - as the line climbs through a series of spiral tunnels.

The flat is close to the railway and bus stations, overlooking the street from a full-width balcony.  Though this makes it a bit noisy in the daytime, it was quiet at night.  The place is well furnished and adequately equipped, but very spartan: there is one picture in the whole place, and there are no mirrors in the bedrooms.  None of the bathroom appliances had a working plug,  I guess we’d been spoiled by the very nice flat in Weissenbühl, so anything less had to be a bit of a disappointment.  It helped that the landlord had left a bottle of fizz, which we enjoyed out on the balcony as the sun went down.

Saturday

We took a stroll down through the market: lots of clothes, hats and bags, but the interesting part was the food: lots of cheeses and salami, plus two of those revolting churns of polenta!  We decided not to battle through the crowds back up the hill, ao carried on a little further through the handsome old town, where a bus promptly appeared, heading for the station, and stopping a stone’s throw from our front door after a route round bits of Bellinzona we wouldn’t otherwise have seen.

Next a train along to Locarno, and a boat ride to Ascona, and lunch at one of the restaurants on the waterfront.  Excellent, generously loaded pizzas. As usual we fiddled with the itinerary as the spirit moved us: next we took a boat to Bardasso, calling at the islands thereof, and watched a lot of sailing boats, including a flotilla of those tiny training dinghies.  We got a bus back from Bardasso to Locarno, where we quickly connected with a train back to Bellinzona.  The station co-op equipped us for a picnic supper: melon, bread, ham and cheese.

Sunday

Having enjoyed the Postauto ride to Bellinzona from Chur where we were staying last time, we thought we’d do the ride in reverse.  Unfortunately, it wasn’t the double-decker we had last time, but the views were wonderful nevertheless.  I’d hoped to have lunch in Chur at a café that we’ve used in the past, but it was closed, so lunch was Co-op sandwiches on the station platform, entertaining ourselves by feeding the sparrows.  Next train took us through the spectacular Rhine gorge and up to Disentis-Mustér, where we had to change to the Matterhorn-Gotthard Bahn to go to Andermatt.  If you ever get the chance, do it!  The scenery is unbelievably beautiful and dramatic.  The short ride from Andermatt to Göschenen follows the gorge of the Reuss, which was marginally less spectacular because of the hot, dry summer, but amazing nonetheless.

Then from Göschenen back ‘home’ to Bellinzona, and supper with Co-op lasagne, which will leave us with plenty for tomorrow.  We’re both getting a bit old for these full-day itineraries.  So we’ll maybe check out a castle or two here in town tomorrow, and maybe traipse down to Lugano for lunch.  We have a long day ahead of us on Tuesday, so I think we’ll make a rare attempt at moderation tomorrow - at least as regards travel plans!

An interesting aside: our bus this morning was driven by a young woman who needed a colleague to navigate, since she plainly hadn’t driven the route before.  I found myself wondering if she’d driven a bus before.  Or indeed whether she’d driven anything before.  By and large, OK, but she flung the bus into bends as if she was driving a Golf GTI.  Her already balding minder was close to hairless when we got to Chur.  But we live to tell the tale.  Incidentally, no-one attempted to check our travel passes during the bus trip.

Monday

Our last full day in CH, so I thought it was time we visited at least one of Bellinzona’s castles.  The bus schedules for two of them were pretty unhelpful, so we decided just to visit the Castelgrande, which is reached by a lift not too far from the flat.  Huge, impressive structure dating, if I remember right, from the fifteenth century.  It also houses a museum, but we were more interested in the huge sculpture exhibition laid out on the castle lawn, and of course the views of the city and the mountains.  We walked (or in my case, hobbled) down to the bus stop in the old town and rode back up to the station.

Next stop Lugano, where we walked a little and found a friendly, if expensive, restaurant for lunch.  I’d been having a look at the boat timetables, and found that we could do a brief round trip to the Italian exclave of Campione d’Italia, the main reason for the existence of which, these days at least, is a huge casino of rare ugliness.  We stopped for a drink at the café closest to the pier.  Its opening hours are 10:00-04:00, no doubt to enable the drowning of sorrows - or maybe celebration, of course - arising from a long night at the casino.

Quiet evening at the flat, using up leftovers and doing most of the packing.

Tuesday

Final packing and cleaning.  For the first time ever in a holiday flat, we were required to strip the beds and leave the linen in the bathroom.  We also had to schlepp the rubbish to the nearest municipal bins, for which Martyn heroically volunteered.  You aren’t allowed to put bottles in the municipal bag, so absent any other advice, we left them in a carrier bag for the cleaner to sort out.  Not sure quite what to make of the flat.  It was convenient for the bus/railway station, spacious and quite well furnished and equipped, but minimalist to the point of spartan, and the house rules were bünzlig in the extreme.  But it did the job well enough, and if we returned to Bellinzona, we’d probably use it again. [Later: maybe not: Martyn got lots of bites, possibly from bed bugs…]

Decent train ride to Zürich (and by golly, the Gotthard base tunnel is long!) with a quick and easy change at the Hauptbahnhof.  Airport ZRH has changed a lot since my days there, but a nice remaining touch is the observation terrace.  We’d brought sandwiches, using up leftover bread, ham, butter and cheese while we watched the air traffic.  Limited delay, so we were soon ensconced in the cabin of the BA Cityflyer E190.  Better leg room than in Helvetic’s E2, a bit less noise, and audible announcements.  A decent flight, with good views of the countryside, but again it parked at the far end of the airport.  With my current mobility issues, this was not welcome!  Nevertheless, we opted for the DLR and tube to London Bridge, and the consequent long walk from the tube to the railway station.  Despite the ‘standing room only’ warning on the indicator board, we got seats to Disgustedville.  The taxi took a long time to get through the congestion in town, but cost no more than usual.  Simple supper from the freezer, first load of washing programmed to run next morning and an early night.

Wednesday

A day of household admin, and a moment to reflect on the trip.  It began ill-starred because of the air traffic chaos.  I wasn’t in great shape for this type of trip because of arthritic knees and a painful achilles tendon.  It convinced me that I need (a) to lose a lot of weight, (b) get into a routine of leg strengthening exercises and (c) get out and walk a bit more.  Much as we love Switzerland, it is mighty expensive!  It’s hard to get a one-course meal and a glass of wine each for much under £100, so we had quite a few meals at home.   As always, it was a delight to connect again with old friends.  But we began to feel that we’re getting a bit old for this kind of trip, especially when the transport screws up.  We’ve had problems with trains and aeroplanes on too many occasions, and they make life really trying and stressful for us oldies. Maybe if I can summon up some kind of fitness…

Another jinxed trip to CH

Tuesday.  Well, the taxi turned up  - early, even, and we got to City Airport in ample time, and fortunately thought to grab a sandwich.  We were called to the gate at about the right time, and proceeded to sit and sweat for a while.  We were next told that the aircraft was unserviceable, and that we should go to another gate - at the other end of the airport.  Next news was that the engineer had some paperwork to complete, and by the time he was done, all departures from London airports were suspended indefinitely.  When that was finally lifted, that lasted only 20 minutes, and we were back to square one.  After sitting on the plane for close to three hours, we were told by the increasingly exasperated captain that the flight had been cancelled.  Back we trekked to the BA service desk, told to retrieve our bags and wait for an email.  The email seemed to confirm that we were booked on a flight with Helvetic some eight hours from our scheduled departure time.  Meanwhile, we’d been escorted down to departure level.  (Having bought a bottle of duty-free booze prior to our first planned departure, I had to wheedle my way past security, gin and all.  I must be good at wheedling: we now have said bottle here at home in Disgustedville.)

After a long wait, we collected our boarding cards and went for an expensive and mediocre meal.  Just as we started on our aperitifs, we checked on FlightRadar24 to find that the Helvetic flight had been cancelled as well.  Another long trek to the gate it would have left from, to learn that the soonest they could book us in was 24 hours later, but at least we got our boarding cards.  The long trek home ensued, after 13 hours getting precisely nowhere, very tired and sweaty.  One interesting observation: I’d been struggling with a carry-on bag, a back pack and a walking stick, and it was touching to find how many people offered to give up seats.

Wednesday.  Having battled with three trains and a taxi each way yesterday,, we’ve pretty well decided to drive to the airport today and shell out for valet parking.  Yesterday’s experience taught us that we’re a bit old for roughing it.  Let’s hope for bettter luck today.

Forget gardening

Delightful afternoon last Friday, when our friend Steph celebrated her 40th birthday, and invited us to a rather fancy do at the Spa Hotel.  It was great to spend time with her, her brother and parents.  My word: what a great job Claire and Richard have done on those two!  I did find the noisy ambience a bit trying: I struggle to socialise when I can’t hear what people are saying.  But a great experience nonetheless.

More u3a stuff: computer group last Wednesday, Scrabble on Thursday and German conversation today.  There’s a huge range of classes and activities on offer from u3a: next, I’ll be trying to rescue the remnants of my French.

Bachelor life here again: Martyn’s sister had a hospital procedure yesterday under general anaesthetic, so he’s over at her place to keep an eye on her for a couple of days.  Results reassuring, I gather.

Daily gripe: two years running I have bought tomato seeds from an outfit calling itself Buy4seeds, specifying our favourite miniature plum variety, Sweet Olive.  Each time the fruit have ripened to chocolate brown and cherry shaped.  The flavour is OK, but the colour is a turn-off for Martyn, who won’t eat them.  I bitched at them last year, and got no response.  So I’ve probably wasted my time again this morning by complaining again via amazon, attaching photos.  The rest of the garden is looking rather sad as we approach this year’s fifth heatwave.  It’s just too hot to garden during the day, so it’s watering at sparrowfart and dead-heading in the evening - and a lot of skulking indoors in between.

Fin-juîllet

Around this time we’d usually have been in Lagrasse enjoying (some of) the cultural events. As it is, we’ve pretty well decided than long road trips are no longer for us.  The Yorkshire trip was a bit much for us, and even a trip to the sea yesterday reminded us that driving is not fun these days.  Appalling roads, worse still driving: we used to enjoy going out for a drive, but not now.

We went to Dungeness for a bit of fresh air and a little stroll across the shingle.   My superb new walking stick helped: we went and collected it on Wednesday from my dear friend Dave Mann, who had crafted it from burr elm. Gardening tends to be at dusk these days, given the high daytime temperatures.  I did a bit of planting a couple of nights ago, but find that I missed the tray of busy lizzies: a job for later this evening.

I’m standing back a bit from political commentary: others are doing it so better than I can.  I’m welcoming the good news of our new PM’s utterances, but am old enough to bide my time.  As for the Untied States of America, I think the electorate is finally coming to its senses.  I hope I live long enough to see the results.

Another year older

I’m celebrating my birthday in E Yorkshire, where we are staying for a few nights not far from our friend Annie’s.  Martyn treated me to a trip on the Settle-Carlisle railway line yesterday: wonderful scenery, but the train being a special charter, we had to do a lot of hanging about to let regular traffic through.  The spectacular part is between Appleby and Settle, and another time we’d do it on scheduled trains.  We spent a couple of hour in Carlisle, where we were made to feel rather unwelcome at the cathedral, and we were proselytised at by people with guitars and an amplifier in the market square.  The city itself is pleasant enough, but it’s not somewhere I’d visit specially.

The catering on the train was pretty good, though, and I hate to think what the scales will tell me when we get home tomorrow.  Annie is not on her best form at the moment, and decided not to come with us.  As it turned out, this was a wise move: we were out for about 15 hours in all, and are feeling pretty tired today.

The drive north was also rather long: we shall break it up a bit more on the way home.  We find ourselves tiring more quickly than we used to, which is of course normal as the years add up.  So a lazy day today: we’re off to lunch at a café nearby while the car gathers up a few kilowatts nearby.

Bachelor life

Sandra is still in a lot of pain, so Martyn is staying in Rochester until the care arrangements kick in next Monday.  A stair lift is being installed in the coming days, so that will give Sandra a bit more independence.  I’ve been going across every other day, sometimes bringing a meal with me.  I’m a rather timid driver these days, so find it rather tiring.  The good thing about it is that it gets me into air-conditioned comfort for the duration of the journeys.

It is stiflingly hot again, and we’re expecting it to continue well into next week.  I’ve been skulking indoors behind closed curtains, with a fan blowing through a wet matrix.  Not terribly effective, but better than nothing.  Once the sun had come round today to shade the area by the back door, I set to and overhauled the wheelbarrow.  Not exactly major engineering, but I soon realised that it’s well over thirty years since I last changed an inner tube, and had to remind myself by trial and error how it’s done.  Fortunately I now have an electric compressor, so I was spared the effort of pumping the damn’ thing up.  Sweaty business nonetheless, so I’m back in the shade in my trusty cotton djellaba, and wondering whether I really want a hot supper tonight!

The joys of motoring - and unexpected turns of events

We have been spending a bit of time lately shuttling between home and Benenden hospital, so are getting to know the road pretty well, potholes and all.  So this time I was more than ready to yield the driving seat to Martyn.  The route passes through Goudhurst, where there’s a tight double bend in front of the church.  There are plenty of signs as you approach the village, warning drivers of heavy goods vehicles to avoid it.  There were three of the brutes ahead of us as we drove up the hill, and of course traffic was at a standstill.  Fortunately, we were able to divert, adding just a few miles to the journey.

A little further on, I noticed a movement ahead of us, and yelled ‘stop!’.   A hefty bough of a tree had fallen across the road just ahead of us.  A truck we’d been following had clipped it with its nearside mirror, I think: we saw said truck in a lay-by further on, and the driver was busy looking at the damage.  The bough was dead and pretty rotten, but would have buggered up our front end had we not spotted it, or worse still, landed on us.  Anyway, we and a number of other drivers soon got the road clear, and we were still in good time for the appointment.  Just goes to show that it pays to build in a bit of extra time just in case…

Martyn having had to fast before today’s business we repaired to the café for tea and a bite, expecting to amble home and cool off for the rest of the day, and then to collect Sandra from hospital tomorrow after a procedure, whereupon Martyn would stay over there and keep an eye on her.  Message from Sandra: acute back pain, cancelling hospital visit.  Lights flashing, bells clanging, we hied ourselves straight from Benenden to Rochester, and let ourselves in with the hidden door key.  Cutting a long story short, Sandra is now just mobile with a ‘rollator’ she had ordered, and which we assembled for her.  Zipped back home for Martyn to pack a bag, and for me to pack some of the frozen meals I’d prepared.  So I’m here, he’s there, and we’re preparing for a few days of domestic disruption.  Nothing in the diary for a few days.  Just as well, eh?

We have driven further in the last few days than we do in a month: must remember to stick the car on charge tonight!  Maybe when it cools down a bit.  High thirties here today, so I’m sitting in the shade next to the cooling fan, dressed in a thoroughly un-fetching cotton djellaba, and wondering whether to dispense with the boxers.  A couple of pairs of shorts have been delivered today, so that should be enough to bring an end to the heatwave.