"Das ist verboten!" - welcome to Switzerland

Our first introduction to Switzerland was at a cafe/restaurant where we had stopped for a drink during our training ride into the mountains. Humph returned from putting our order in with the mangeress in hit pursuit, and muttered to Rick, 'watch VG get a bollocking'..

As our hostess with the mostess, slammed down our Oringinas, the predicted bollocking arrived, just as I was tucking into my sandwich lovingly made from the plentiful breakfast options at the hotel. With "Das ist verboten!" ringing in my ears, we polished off our drinks and left the charming lady to her other more profligate customers... A couple of leather-clad hairy bikers splashing out on a coffee.

Charm personified and a world away from the relaxed and welcoming attitude we've encountered all through France. Anyway, too early to judge the Swiss temperament on a fleeting encounter, but an interesting start to our Swiss experience.

Yesterday we left Argentiere in France for the Swiss Alps and a lovely mountain town called Anzere, near Gstaad. What a climb! At 3 hours of climbing over 12km, it was our hardest climb yet. And the views were staggering as we climbed further into the mountains. Met up with a couple of our closest family friends, Annie and Paddy Jenkins who were holidaying with friends Gilly and Lah-zi Nestor-Smith. Fantastic to see them and wonderful hospitality all round. Fuelled by a terrific supper and a glorious rendition of the Welsh national anthem, we flew down the mountain the following morning, covering the descent to Martingy in about 28mins, with only one minor hiccup with an on coming van.

Again, it was lovely to be able to share this trip with those family friends who are so close to this whole adventure and the reasons behind it,

On arrival in Martingy, which is sadly an ugly town surrounded by the glorious mountains, the weather clouded over and the headwind came back to haunt us with a vengence. So the the afternoon was all about slogging it out to reach Villnerve, on the shores of Lake Geneva after a monstrous bowl of pasta that demanded an afternoon snooze.

After delighting in cycling through France with good roads and encouraging toots and shouts from passing drivers, Switzerland is a bit of a contrast. Sections of bad road, drivers taking too close an interest in my panniers for my liking and absolutely no hoots of encouragement apart from a Brit who lives out here. In fact, apart from lycra clad cyclists continuing the brotherly wave or 'salut' as we pass each other, we have singularly failed to have any interesting meaningful interaction with the Swiss.

And to add insult to injury, Humph beat me at mini golf. There are no words to adequately convey the depths of this humiliation. He doesn't play golf, ever. He hates it, apart from shortened versions for kids apparently, which he seemingly excels at.

Anyway, on to Lausanne shortly. Come on Switzerland, shows us your personality, it's got to be in here somewhere.