The Big Meringue

In a sad state of affairs this morning the Hausfrau went to the kitchen, flicked on the kettle and pulled down two mugs, anticipating tea and chats (in English) with one or more extended family members... only to realise that of course everyone had gone. DM, DF, DB and DSIL were all safely tucked up in their own beds in Australia, DH was at the coal-face and DS and DD were at school. What a contrast to the past six weeks, in which house guests were with us more often than not, and I only had to yell out: "Sprechen Sie Englisch, dude?" to hear: "Yeah maaate".

After The Wedding, the Hausfrau and family packed into an 8-seater van with DM and DF as well as DB and DSIL, and headed south to Brienz in the Bernese Oberland for a few days of rolling green hills, flushes of wildflowers, cows with bells, crystal clear lakes, snow-capped mountains, old Swiss houses, lots of chocolate... It was totally out of control on the Swiss-0-meter in so many ways.

Our hotel was outrageously rustic, and overlooked Lake Brienz. I thought Lake Zürich was clean, but this was like, well, water with nothing else in it except some aqua food-colouring. And apart from DS (who was spotty and tired from hosting the chicken pox virus) and the Hausfrau (who was sporting a rubbish cold), we couldn't have had more fun or covered more ground if we tried.

The area is full of surprises, starting with Meiringen, which we soon realised was home to the Sherlock Holmes museum, and nested at the base of the Reichenbach falls, from which Holmes and Moriarty plunged in their final battle. At this point I must say that while Holmes may not have benefited from a mobile phone, the Hausfrau was exceptionally glad of hers when DS, on discovering that DH and DD had legged it up the mountain to try to get to the top, ran full-pelt in an upwards direction with the Hausfrau cool on his heels. I say cool, because the kid is like lightning and, after an attempted pursuit during which the Hausfrau was coughing and panting with head pounding, it was all she could do to whip out the mobile phone and dial DH.

Me: It's DS. He's on his way. I can't keep up. I'm sick.
DH: Okaaaay. Hey, look up here! I'm waving at you! Hi!

True enough, DH and DD (at least I presume it was them since they kinda looked like little freckles) were at the top of the fall waving madly.

Needless to say, DH (who can also be like lightning on request) whizzed down to meet DS, and the three of them then bolted down the mountain again leaving the panting Hausfrau in their wake.

It wasn't until we got back to the hotel that DH pointed to the guide book. Turns out that May 4th is the Sherlock Holmes festival in Meiringen, in which Holmes fans congregate for a pilgrimage to the falls. Sadly for DH, who is a big Holmes fan, May 4th was to be the day after our departure.

Luckily for us, though, Meiringen is also the alleged home of the meringue, and we had stocked up on the way through, so at that point there was really only one sensible thing to do which was of course pull out the meringues and start scoffing.