Sarnen, Lucerne - SWITZERLAND
Near Chatel St Denis, Vaud - SWITZERLAND

FRIDAY 5TH FEBRUARY 1999

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This morning we were thwarted by the early riser in reception and couldn't avoid paying nearly AUD$40 for an overnight camp-spot without a shower. Although we did make Peter hide in the back of the van so we would not have to pay for a third person. I wish I had a camera when I asked this Audi-driving, keen golf player to pull the curtains and get down as low as possible. If I'd just come from the lavishness of Sydney I'd wonder why I was involved in such low acts. Dave and I have not let a single campsite rip us off. It would be a matter of principle to take the toilet paper, have an extra long hot shower or leave as late as possible if they hadn't given us the fullest of service.

After Peter climbed off the floor I made him a huge bowl of cereal by the lakeside and then we were off on our route towards Lake Geneva. Our journey took us north along the freeway, below a cloudy sky, passing snow covered farmlands until the cosy capital of Bern came upon us. Bern is full of small town charm, with a medieval centre, 6km of covered archways, a dancing town clock with cockerel that has been singing 100 years too long, fountains decorated with statued minstrels and bears (the cities heraldic symbol), a beautiful Cathedral, Rathaus and meandering river that encloses the city on three sides. The bear pit lies across the river and a handful of dancing bears can be seen at feeding time or lethargic ones when their not. It is quite refreshing to find these beautiful creatures in the city centre roaming freely in a 4 metre ditch. For nowhere else in this world would they be safe. A steep hill runs behind their den up towards the Rose Garden, where fine views of the city can be seen. Where else in the world is there a capital quite so quaint with all the charm of a small village? Bern really grows on you!

The drizzling rain then took us towards Lake Murten for a wander around the fortified village of Murten. To enter the town you drive under one of the ornately decorated covered arches and step into a world of times past, where once the Duke of Burgundy lay siege here. Two weeks later the Swiss army forced him out and now what remains is not so much different. In an alluring dark hour of afternoon we stomped around the old stone and wooden battlements, lording over the cobbled streets, traditional arcaded houses and a sea of terracotta roof tiles. We then returned to the streets lined with a scattering of locals - mothers and youngsters returning from school, grandmothers gossipping and teenagers on skateboards or with snowboards returning from the mountains. A walk through the town, although filled with modern vehicles and conveniences, is like stepping back in time. Not a modern building is in sight and even the local police have turned the town castle into their headquarters. Its an enchanting place to spend an hour.

In the darkness we drove along the freeway south over an eerie covering of snow until we came to Chatel Saint Denis (just north of Lausanne). Just 1 kilometre up a snow covered mountain road was our stop for the night. The jolly proprietor ushered us to park by reception in three inches of snow, advising us that there was more to come. Within the hour delicate fragments of snow began to fall, eventually getting heavier and heavier. Before having a shower we had a snowball fight and Peter enjoyed snowy Switzerland. Whilst the snow continued to fall on the roof we polished of the last of beers, had enough pasta to feed an army and lastly I cooked a stack of pancakes covered in lemon and sugar, honey and jam. The Savoy had arrived at the camper, and a vanful of happy souls talked of times past and ones to come. The boys then went to bed whilst I washed up contemplating life after Peter leaves. For this will be the first time were not scheduled to be somewhere. In fact the number of paths we could take was astounding!!! Although I will be sad to see Peter leave for in just a week an eternity passed where its hard to imagine time spent without him or having my comfortable bed back to sleep in.



All text copyright Anita Pacanin. Images copyright David Jennings. No unauthorised copying permitted.
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