Brexit is over. Nobody is more disappointed about this than I am. Every morning for the last six months or so – and the occasional noon and evening, due to a bit of meal confusion – our Laideybird would jump out of bed and run to the kitchen, announcing that she was ready for Brexit. Even on the more challenging mornings – interrupted nights, my coffee maker being out of town, general wintery malaise – it never failed to bring a chuckle. Sadly, she has recently learned to correctly pronounce her ‘f’s and with it has toppled one of the more controversial European political decisions of recent times.
The last few months of this year are thick with travel for Tim; he’s currently on a whirlwind trip to New Zealand and Australia but has also been flitting around the continent for the last few weeks. Nestled in the midst of this, on an unexpectedly bright and beautiful Wednesday, was a Swiss public holiday for which he happened to be at home. There was only one thing for it: The Alps.
We went to a neighbouring canton, Schwyz, for a short walk through the Mythenregion. The walk promised panoramic views, and it totally delivered. But then – where here doesn’t?
The Mythen peak stands at 1898m – a trifle lower than our Pilatus, but equally impressive, particularly on a clear day. We caught a cable car to the neighbouring Rotenflue where we enjoyed a grill – possibly the last of the season – and a surprisingly steep circular walk. Equally surprising was the tiny red hut you see in the snap below: a little cheese shop for your mid hike snacks.
Our little Brexit eater did us proud: she managed to walk the whole hilly way and just as I thought she was completely tuckered out, we found ourselves in Addie heaven. Rock climbing and soaring above the Alps ensued. (Please note the blue thing slumped on my back is my sleeping son, not some of weird stuffed mascot).
The days after this trip have started to usher in winter, making it feel a little like a last hurrah. Gone are the crystal clear blue skies – Luzern has been frosty, cloud covered and grey (and, worst of all, wet wet wet) for the last week or so. On the occasions the cloud clears, the nearby hills have been hit with snow, and we’re excepting some of our own in a few days. Despite the murk I am feeling excited about snow season, but this is possibly because we’ll be the other side of the world in the sun for about six weeks of it.