How very Swish

The whole family scaled Jungfraujoch at over 3,500 metres. Luckily, you can do this by train, ploughing inside the Eiger to the highest station in Europe. We walked inside a glacier and played in the snow in August where the altitude brings the temperatures down to zero. Despite having ascended to higher heights, Jungfraujoch still knocks the air from your lungs and makes you glad to be alive. The air is so clean, the glaciers so impressive …

And still we walked. We took the train to Wengernalp and walked for 2 hours down to the hanging valley of Lauterbrunnen. We made the historic journey up to Schynigge Platte and then, unwilling to take the long and decrepit train back down, we walked for over three hours down over 1.7 kilometres in altitude and many more overland. We are very proud to say that Jenna walked every single step of the way. The rain poured, the clouds were all around us and it was darned cold, but the kids just knuckled down and put one foot in front of the other.

How can you not love to walk in these beautiful surroundings, this clean air? The kids have managed several 10 mile hikes, and we’ll never accept any excuses again! They can walk at altitude and over the roughest terrain. The Brecon Beacons should pose no problems at all.

We cycled, we fondued. We ate chocolate, we shopped. And then Rowan and Rhys did something that scares me, at least, witless. Why anyone would jump off the side of a perfectly good, solid mountain is beyond me … but they did. They paraglided from nearly 2600 metres above sea level down to Lauterbrunnen at 800 metres. Each, with an experienced pilot, ran off a field into mid air. They spent 18 minutes flying through the air with only a flimsy little parachute above them. What was most interesting was their reactions. I would NEVER do such a thing, but Joe went with them. Just before they left, Rhys caught me on the way back to the tent and grabbed me in a huge hug. “I love you Mum” he mumbled, “I’ll see you after.” He hugged me so tight, and I caught his fear. Rowan though, who had rejected ziplining, went off with nothing but excitement. Jenna and I waited to see them emerge above the top of the waterfall. This time I had no qualms at all: they’ve faced everything and won, I know now they really can do these things. Rhys span doing aerobatics with his pilot, and Rowan glided serenely mere inches from the Staubbach falls. They all absolutely loved it: whereas I would have been pooing very large brick-like objects. As Joe came in for a perfect landing, I suddenly knew how far we had travelled – in every way.

Not planning to stay long, we ended up staying 8 nights at Lauterbrunnen. Our last day was Swiss National Day, with yodellers and alpine horns were out in force. Maybe the Swiss can’t do fireworks at New Year for fear of avalanches, so they pull out the stops on August 1st. The skies were lit up for our farewell, with gunpowder shots ricocheting dramatically across the glacial valley. A bonfire burned high on the cliffs beneath Staubbach – what an amazing send off. As Sydney welcomed us so Switzerland said goodbye, in a blaze of colour and glory.

Of course, the next morning brought us right back down to earth. The heavens OPENED. We decamped in a massive rainstorm, with everything drenched. The kids took to the car to watch DVDs as Joe and I struggled, giggling, with sopping wet canvas. Nothing could dampen our spirits. We’d fallen in love with Switzerland, and a bit of good Welsh rain could do nothing to put us off.