On our travels again

As I write, we’re sitting in the shade on the terrace of a rented flat in Bern.  We travelled yesterday, flying from London City to Zürich.  That was the easy bit, well, more or less.  Our friend Richard gamely agreed to take us to Tonbridge station, where we sat in the sun until our off-peak train tickets came to life.  London Bridge to Canning Town on the incredibly noisy Jubilee line, then on to the airport on the Toytown railway.  This train was filthy, threadbare and shabby, but it got us there in bags of time.  As the flight was full, they put out a call for people willing to put their bags in the hold, in exchange for priority boarding, to which we gladly agreed.  Glad we did, since it was a long, long trek to baggage reclaim.  It then took us a full half hour to get through passport control - while the EU, EEA and Switzerland desks were practically empty.  Another Brexit benefit.  But at least we didn’t have to hang around at the baggage carousel.

We flew in one of BA’s excellent Embraers.  They aren’t exactly roomy, but I’d plenty of legroom, even with my little back pack under the seat.  The flight would have been OK had it not been for a couple of screaming sprogs - we get them every time - and a rather garrulous Sikh party who were getting well stuck into the free Heineken.  Travelling in cattle class, we were pleasantly surprised to get a packet of crisps and a glass of wine: our last British Airways trip, to the Algarve in Club Europe, included some catering, which was close to inedible. 

The Swiss end of the journey was pleasant and comfortable: our train ran non-stop from Zürich Hauptbahnhof to Bern, where we shopped for essentials at the station and then got the rather busy tram out to the flat.  The flat is adequate: a bedroom with a big double and an office with a reasonably comfortable sofa bed.  The living room is spacious but spartan: it has a dining table for eight, and an L-shaped sofa which is seriously uncomfortable.

It was lovely to see Pam again: we last saw her two years ago when we had lunch with her, Geoff, Lesley and Carlo: we were staying in Bellinzona at the time, so it was quite a day trip.  Geoff, alas, is no longer with us: though physically as fit as a butcher’s dog that day, he was clearly losing the place.  Very sad.  Just before he was due to go into residential care, his physical health took a turn for the worse, and he spent his last few days in hospital.  

Pam is coping well, and is travelling to Lisbon next week.  She had prepared a delicious supper for us, and I’m just sorry I wasn’t better company.  I was dog tired and very uncomfortable in the 30° heat, and later had trouble getting to sleep.  Our neighbours, perhaps used to our flat standing empty for periods, were making no effort to keep their voices down.  About 11:30 I banged on the wall, whereupon immediate silence.  That’s Berne for you.

Today we went into town to buy stuff for lunch, but came straight back to the flat for lunch and a rest.  As I write, Martyn has retired for a siesta, and I’ll be going back indoors when the sun comes round.  I too am content to treat today as a recovery day.  I have given myself a daily step count target of 3000, and have been achieving that without much difficulty.  Yesterday I did closer to 7000, so I guess I’m entitled to feel every so slightly cream-crackered.

We’ll maybe get a bit more ambitious tomorrow.  Pam recommends a visit to Solothurn, which I know only from passing through on the train on the way to Biel/Bienne.  I read that the river cruise from Biel to Solothurn is very pretty, so we’ll maybe do that.  More helveticana anon.

The diminishing project list

We have finally got round to a job we’ve been meaning to have done for some years.  The door from the dining room to the kitchen matched the double doors between the sitting and dining rooms.  Each had 18 panes of very 1960s Flemish tulip pattern glass, hence were a brute to paint and keep clean.  Well, the double doors came off years ago: we only ever closed them when Martyn was still working, when I turned off the heating in the bigger room during the day.  We ultimately gave them to the builders who converted the study.  The door from the kitchen to the hall was of the fake panel variety that predominate in the house, and kept the hall rather dark.  Both doors have now been replaced with matching doors, each with a single large glazed panel, installed well at very reasonable cost by our local chippy.  The old doors were too big to go in the car, so I put them on Freecycle and someone took them away, saving us the £60-odd had we got the council to take them.

We next move to the decorating agenda.  Our decorating days are in the past, so we sent a list off to an even more local painter.  He has seen to the little remaining outside woodwork, and will next do the kitchen and cloakroom.  He was somewhat frustrated today when the wind got up and scattered dust and silver birch seed all over the newly painted garage door.  He has pushed off to his timeshare in Gran Canaria: I get to tackle the door tomorrow with a cloth and soapy water - and limited optimism.

I’d mentioned that we’ve started on the tomatoes.  Yesterday I harvested blueberries and cultivated/wild strawberries.  Most of the latter were nibbled away in no time: the blueberries are now in muffins, and, like the project list, rapidly dismissing in number.

Here comes the sun

There’s nothing quite like a cancer diagnosis to concentrate the mind on both the short and medium terms.  We have taken a cruise to the Fjords, and it was a delight - something I’ve wanted to do for years.  Who knows how long one has left, after all?  Much as we love our friends and family, and commit to various charities, we’re rather inclined to get the good of our savings for ourselves - and the broader environment - while we’re alive.  Par conséquent, we have turned in both diesel cars for electric ones, and had a big solar array installed on the roof.

We got the little Fiat in April, and love its lively character.  It has five doors, but is pretty tight in the back.  We’ve therefore turned in the Ateca, an excellent car, and a super second-hand buy for someone.  But once you’ve driven an electric car, it seems pretty pedestrian.  So it’s back to Renault after 27 years.  The Scenic is fractionally bigger than the Ateca, so will only just fit in the garage.  The Fiat, registered GK, is a proper little go-kart.  The Scenic is also lively and agile, if clearly bigger and a tad heavier, but nicely finished, and with lots of nice bells and whistles, like a glass roof that can be dimmed without a cloth blind.  I’m slowly coming to grips with all the fancy tricks, and am glad to confirm that both meet my grandfather’s criterion for a car: it has four wheels and it goes.

We have had a sociable week so far: Sandra was here on Sunday for lunch: bruschette with the first crop of our tomatoes, a chicken Caesar salad and a fruit salad.  I hosted the German conversation group on Tuesday morning, and I think it went well.  Later in the day we had friends round for tea and Martyn’s delicious scones.  

The garden is doing well.  The spuds are all out now, and we’ve planted out all the tomato seedlings.  We’ve started saving seeds from annuals with a view to flogging them at a pound a pinch when we host a Macmillan coffee morning next month.