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We're leaving Switzerland tomorrow, more's the pity. I could easily live here; it's a very beautiful country and the pace and way of life are very sensibly human. Yesterday we caught the train to Interlaken, which is a city set in a basin between two lakes (hence the name) at the foot of the alps. From the town you can catch an alpine railway which takes you up 4,000 metres to the summit of the Jungfrau. Failing that, you can sit around looking at the Eiger, or stroll around town and buy a souvenir. Souvenir shops, like souvenir shops everywhere sell tat, but Swiss tat is of the very highest quality: Swiss army knives, diamond encrusted Rolexes and carved cuckoo clocks. We were tempted by the Jungfrau railway but didn't have the necessary 8 hours for the return trip, so took a stroll up a hillside instead, through pastures rich with wildflowers and with cows driving themselves nuts with the incessant ringing of cowbells. Heidi country. Then it was a quick ride on a doub...

It's been a busy day, so I'll work backwards through it to the beginning, to the place I really want to think about. This evening all the household, 12 people in all, went two doors down to Madame Ogi's. Madame Ogi runs a restaurant. Not a huge affair, just 6 tables: the sort of place which performs the sort of function I suppose the local pub used to perform at the end of British streets. It is the place where locals gather; where everyone knows everyone else, and where the events of the village are discussed in intimate detail. And where, just incidentally, the food is superb. I had the perch, caught that day in the lake, and served with potatoes, salad and the most delicious sauce. There was a local pinot noir to wash it all down, and it was, quite simply, the best fish I have eaten in my life. When we left, there were the regulation handshakes and three cheek kisses for everyone, and from everyone - the chef, the waitress, the other diners - and the sense that you hadn...

The Swiss seem eminently sensible people. Everything (except for essential services: power, ambulances and restaurants) closes on Sunday, not so much for religious reasons but for the realisation that there is more to life than making money and going shopping. What's more, everything stays closed until after lunchtime on Monday. Yesterday they got even more sensible. All the roads around Le Lac de Morat were closed to traffic so that people could participate in the Slow Up - a day of riding bikes, skating or walking around the lake. We took a large launch out over the lake from Vallamond to Morat and spent the afternoon walking around the old town. The medieval walls are perfectly maintained and it is a strange thing for a Kiwi to walk around on centuries old ramparts looking down on houses that have remained pretty much unchanged since the days of William Tell. Stranger still to note that none of the Swiss have been moved to deface them by spraying graffiti on them or by breaking ...

It was up early this morning to ratttle crash rumble over the cobblestones of Venice to the railway station, and from there to sit on a Trenitalia fast train to Switzerland. At a town near the border whose name I can no longer remember we all had to troop out and climb onto a Swiss train, which seemed immediately wider, neater, cleaner and more comfortable. Outside, the Heidi landscape flashed past until at Bern we boarded a small local train for Neuchatel where our old friend Nick collected us for the last 20 minutes of the journey. Nick and Louise live a few miles out of Neuchatel in a tiny Swiss village. They have been friends for decades and there are two things about them which are constant. Firstly, they always live in unfinished houses, and this one is no exception. Their home is a large one, set in the village square right beside a cafe. They have bought the house next door, on the other side from the cafe, and are in the process of converting the two into one residence of abou...