The Angels of Davos

It's a bit chilly in Switzerland. My little brother tells me, in between mouthfuls of freshly grilled bacon and maple syrup pancakes, that it can get really hot in Switzerland. Personally, I've never witnessed this. I'm dubious. It's a very pretty country, picturesque and clinically clean and tidy, but it's chilly. The towns all have beautiful wooden clad alpine buildings, the cows all look manicured. I think the farmers even bag up their poo after them. It's that kind of place. Immaculate.

We had two bikes in the back of the van as we set off, so we had to jettison some useless baggage. Marc and Kev to be precise. They joined the rabble on Team Nightmare for the short hop to Bregenz in Austria via Liechtenstein. 89 miles and only 2 google hours. That's at least 3 normal hours. The sat nav suggested that the route involved a ferry, which had us scratching our heads. 

20 miles further on we found the 'ferry'. It wasn't a ferry at all, it was a train under the mountain, an expensive, car carrying train under the mountain. 26 euros. We turned around and chose a different route. 

As we ascended towards the ski resort of Davos, we caught up with and overtook (oh, the thrill and excitement !) the poxy modern ambulance of Team Trauma. I found a bend with good view and shot out and around, giving them a polite salute (alright, some sort of salute) as we did so. 

The top of the pass was back above the snow line. We are seeing a lot of snow on this trip. Cue an impromptu stop with the Nightmares and Trauma. Not to be outdone by my snow angels, Sid and Roy engaged in some topless snow wrestling (just 4 guys travelling across Europe in a van.....).
 Onward, through the fairly dull, denture producing minuscule country of Liechtenstein and in to Austria. It was raining. 

Blimey, see what I did there ? I covered a whole country in 11 words. If there are any Lietchtensteiners reading, I apologise. I'll try to add more detail. Liechtenstein is, along with Uzbekistan, a double landlocked country (landlocked by other landlocked countries), it has more companies registered than population ,it is the sixth smallest country in the world and yet is still able to give the England football team a good run for their money. 

So, Austria and rain. The prospect of Pimms and Gin and Tonic on the grass overlooking the lake wasn't looking so appealing. Murmurings came over the Internet from other teams suggesting an alternative plan. Pushing on. A quick check and most were in favour. Millie, with our two Swiss residents would have to stay in Austria but others were keen on taking in Thursdays drive as well to get us closer to the Nurburgring for the Grand Prix practice on Friday. 

We chained the bikes to the front entrance to the camp site to be collected by Adam later and set off for Freiburg. 

This was when I realised that the excess baggage could have been useful. I was the only insured driver. 8 hours after leaving the campsite in Switzerland we finally located Camp Hirzburg, or Stalag 13 as it was soon dubbed. The camp is run by a fussy little chap ( the commandant) who is there to enforce the rules, to the letter. No BBQs. No noise after 10pm. Steve Mowlam was told to turn his car radio off at 6pm as others could hear it. No mobile phones to be used outside after 10pm. We plotted our escape but with the gates locked until 8am we were forced to start a tunnel using our cutlery. I've noticed some strange occurrences happening in the last day or two. Somebody seems to have left graffiti on our bumper. 

And rather bizarrely, a table, a chair and some very hefty potted plants had made their way to outside the van from the entrance of the site. Now, I'm not one for pointing fingers ( breaking them, poke them in eyes, yes, but pointing, no), but I can only predict this sort of behaviour will lead to some sort of retribution. Who knows, it may have already happened :-)