It’s wet, it’s very much autumn, and tonight we’re promised the biggest moon in 70 years. Yesterday afternoon a crowd of about a dozen youths were fighting outside our house, and I called the police (as did several others). Since my last post (an appropriate phrase) Trump has been elected President of the United States and Leonard Cohen has died. So things are not going too well.

Yesterday we had a Remembrance service at church, but Howard, who was leading, forgot to arrive early enough to have the silence at 11am; so we got round to it at about 11.08am. Still, it’s the thought that counts, and Howard did read a Cohen song (Anthem) that I supplied him with.

Later Dot and I drove to Lowestoft for a performance at the Seagull. We did two songs (not particularly well, though I think they’re good songs), and I read three poems: Looking at Foinaven, Saltmarsh after the War and The Return of Magic. It was an odd evening – not enough good quality poets there, and when I mentioned Leonard Cohen, I suspected that most people hadn’t heard of him.

The previous evening was more successful: Dot’s Sillars concert at Blofield, which attracted pretty much a full church on a rather miserable night. Dot was at the church from about 2pm, rehearsing, and I went with Paul, Maryta and Anna Green, who had made a last-minute decision to attend. Anna and I sat right at the front, which I would never have done on my own, but it was very interesting to see the musicians close up. Some good music, too. My favourite: Gideon’s Oboe from The Mission, but music from Star Wars and Jurassic Park was also impressive. At the interval spoke to David Pilch and his wife Barbara, who were doing refreshments. I used to go to school with David, and we re-met when we did a Paston event at Blofield a few years ago. Paul and Maryta called in for coffee afterwards.

Thursday and Friday last week were both strange. On Thursday I took Philip and Joy to the hospital for a 3.30pm appointment, and they didn’t get away till after 5pm. This wouldn’t have mattered normally, but I was due to have my haircut at about 5.30pm; so I drove in determined fashion through the rush-hour traffic and got back only a few minutes late – to find that Linda had forgotten her scissors and was going to do the cutting a week later.

While at the hospital I had a chat with Stephen Crane, a member of my chess club, who was there with his wife and granddaughter, who had broken her arm in falling off a horse.

The strange thing about Friday was not that Joe Logan came to tune the piano (£88), but that I went up to a planned reunion with some trainees in the BrewDog pub on Queen Street – I had received a reminder earlier in the day that I had not bothered to reply to because I was not sure when I’d be able to make it. I had a good look round and didn’t recognise anybody; so I came home. Later it transpired that they had rescheduled. Still, the walk did me good.

Just finished reading Smoke by  Dan Vyleta and Conclave, by Robert Harris. I preferred the latter, though the ending didn’t quite ring true.

Looking back over the last six days, I see I have not been at home much.  The weather has turned very cold, and I am not particularly comfortable in the respiratory tract area. I also shiver a lot, but I think that’s the drugs. Nevertheless, we continue.

Last Friday we visited Birgit and Joe at their new home in Mattishall and were impressed by its size and unusual layout, and by the fact that it had a bar. Apparently it also has a big garden, but it was too dark to see that properly. On the way home it became very foggy, and the tyre pressure warning light came on in the car, which was not reassuring. However, it felt OK; so we carried on. It’s still on, in fact, but I have checked that the tyres are up to speed, as it were.

On Saturday we went to London to see the Coomes in Dot’s car, just to be sure. They are understandably concerned about the future, but we had a good time and a very pleasant lunch, despite what Kristine said. On arriving home, we made a mistake that did not manifest itself for a few days. Read on.

On Sunday  after church we went to the Hendersons’ for lunch with my goddaughter Holly, who was in town for the weekend. She seemed very well and will soon be promoted to Lieutenant-Commander; so all those lieutenants had better watch out.

The highlight of Monday (I use the word “highlight” very loosely) was the PCC meeting, which turned into a bit of a marathon, discussing the financial situation. The rural dean was present. I’m not sure the outcome was entirely satisfactory, but what was satisfactory was that St Augustine’s members outnumbered St Luke’s. I don’t think this has ever happened before.

Yesterday Dot was about to leave for one of her school engagements when she found that her car’s battery was completely dead. This was a result of the mistake a few days’ earlier, when it seemed we had left the interior light on. Anyway, I called Green Flag, and a nice man came and sorted it. I had to drive the car for about half an hour afterwards to charge the battery up again, so I went to Blofield and back. Why not?

I also paid the house insurance and negotiated  a £75 reduction on the premium, though I’m pretty sure it’s still too high. But I couldn’t summon up the energy to try elsewhere, although I’d intended to. In the evening we went to the Greens’ for a Julian meeting and found that the only other person there (apart from the Greens) was Elaine, plus some sausages and prawns. Nevertheless we had a good evening, with some interesting theological byways explored.

Yesterday was quite a bright day, but today has been very cold and wet. Unfortunately it was the day we had arranged to meet Dot’s college friends Jeannie and Christine (plus Jeannie’s husband Andy) in Holt. We eventually joined forces in Bakers and Larners restaurant, after waiting for them in the food hall (which, to be fair, was where they said they would be). I went to see if they were lost and ran into Jeannie emerging from the loo. We had a good chat and meal, no doubt disrupting what would normally have been a quiet spot for Holt residents. Jeannie, Andy and Christine are staying at Syderstone. I don’t remember ever having been there.

In checking up on my two aunts still living (as far as I know) yesterday, I made a strange discovery: my mother’s maiden name is different from what I thought it was.  For some reason I thought it was Tooley, but it was in fact Harvey. How did that happen?

I’ve now finished the article for the diocesan magazine and have sent the relevant pieces to the four interviewees for checking. The two ordained people (one male, one female) wanted to rewrite everything, and the two lay people were quite happy. Who would have guessed?

Obviously I shall not let the clergy get away with it. You can’t, can you?

On Monday I had a pleasant surprise when a lay person, namely Anne Robinson, called in to go for a walk with Dot. Dot, however, was in Hounslow philosophising: there had been a diary mix-up. When we got over the shock I gave Anne a coffee and then decided to go for a walk with her myself , through the Rosary and Lion Wood, into Pilling Park and then down by Pinebanks and back along Thorpe Road.

Very glad I did, because it was (as Anne predicted) the last fine and warm day before autumn set in. It had turned decidedly chilly by Tuesday morning, when Dot and I went up to Archant for a coffee morning with a number of lay pensioners. Everyone was there except the Hendersons, who had recently returned from the USA and had forgotten.

In the evening it was even chillier. Two lay persons, Bridget and David, gave us a lift to Judy’s for a cake and compline evening, marred very slightly by the fact that I had lost my wallet. After searching the house thoroughly I decided we just hadn’t looked in the right places, and so we looked again afterwards, and I eventually found it on the shelf next to my computer, where it had got mixed up with some other stuff, including my old wallet.

The Paston Footprints meeting was cancelled on Wednesday because of Karen’s illness, and so Rob Knee, another lay person, called in on me instead. After chatting about it, we decided we would probably have to remain back our ambitions slightly and reorganise. Karen fell and broke a couple of bones in her neck, and now apparently has flu and has lost her laptop.

Yesterday I went to Coventry to see another stricken (and equally lay) person, Andrew. I called in to Minster Lodge to have a cup of tea with Helen, and as they were about to dispatch Abdul(?) to the Caludon Centre in a taxi to pick up some drugs, they let me share it with him, which made life a bit easier. I was also able to have a chat with Abdul: nice bloke, as all the staff at Minster Lodge seem to be.

Andrew seemed in better shape than last time, partly because he’d had a haircut, was dressed and was not carrying a teddy bear. He also seemed a bit more coherent and ate his food quite well. Nurses seemed positive too. However, he was walking strangely (rather in John Cleese fashion), and I pointed this out to the nurses, who said they would have a look at it. He may, of course, have been messing around.

I got the bus back to the station and caught the 1752 (running late) to Euston, walking to King’s Cross and getting the Metropolitan line to Liverpool Street, where I caught the 2000 with time to spare. Progress to Norwich was painfully slow, however, and we didn’t arrive till 2228 – some 37 minutes late. Deformed track at Manor Park, apparently, coupled with congestion.

It’s one of those weekends: Dot is in Hounslow preparing for a morning of philosophy training at a school there tomorrow, and I’m home alone, having led the service this morning and played a couple of my new songs for Phil, who was his usual uncritical self. I now have to record them for him. The most recent song is called Here I am, and I think it works quite well.

Yesterday Dot and I took some flowers to the cemetery at North Walsham and then drove on to Happisburgh where, after pausing for coffee/cider and a sandwich at the Lighthouse pub, we walked along the clifftop towards Cart Gap. We didn’t walk all the way there, which was a pity as we would have seen a shipwreck (a yacht had hit the groynes with disastrous results). Instead we turned inland and did a circuit, walking close to the actual lighthouse and then close to the edge of the cliff on the north side of the car park.

The sea was calm and the weather well nigh perfect for there end of October – and indeed the end of British Summer Time.

The previous day I had an engagement in the Cathedral Refectory, where I backed up Karen Smyth in a meeting designed to persuade the Cathedral to embrace the Paston Footprints project. It seemed to go pretty well, considering Karen had just come out of hospital after breaking bones in her neck. Present from the Cathedral: two clergy (Andy Bryant and Peter Doll), Gudrun Warren, the librarian; and Kristi Bain, the parish outreach officer.

On Thursday I did my final two interviews for the Magazine article: the first victim was Sybil Martin at Wymondham Abbey, where considerable user-friendly work had been done, courtesy of a marge Heritage Lottery Fund grant. I was much impressed. Sybil was quite impressive too, getting on in years (of course) but very lively and busy. Friendly too.

Later I went to see Matthew Hutton at Chedgrave, who was the kind of guy you’d expect to see on quangos: a farmer, solicitor, tax expert, author and curate. Nevertheless he was quite amenable, though clearly full of ideas. He would probably have liked to write the article himself. He lives at a beautiful spot between Thurton and Loddon.

I have written some of the article and have all the material I need. I now need to get down to finishing it.

To celebrate Amy’s birthday, Dot and I travelled to Caddington the day afterwards and surprised her (and Oliver) on their return from school. Dot had made a chocolate cake, and we had pizzas and various other things. Amy seemed very pleased: we gave her a new duvet cover, pillowcase and a throw, plus some other smaller things.

Our visit coincided with the arrival of their new neighbours opposite: David tried to turn on the oil heating for them, but there may be some work to do there. On the way down (with Dot driving, of course) I wrote a new song, The Sands of Luskentyre, which now has a tune. I am currently working on a new one, inspired partly by Leonard Cohen’s new album, You Want it Darker, which arrived yesterday.

We relaxed a bit on the Saturday after the Caddington trip, though at some point I tidied up in the garden and put some stuff in the brown bin, which is always pleasing. I also did some work on article for Parish Pump, which I completed on Monday morning.

I am also writing an article for The (diocesan) Magazine, and yesterday – a beautiful sunny day in North Norfolk – I did two interviews: one with the Rev Ruth Adamson at West Runton and another with Brian Wigg at Cromer. The former turned out to have taken Bruce Robinson’s funeral, and the latter is a friend of Philip Robinson. Small world. The article is on the older generation in Church, and I’m doing two more interviews tomorrow – one at Wymondham and one at Chedgrave.

Cromer was absolutely packed yesterday, probably because it was half-term, and for the first time ever I couldn’t get into the main car park. Happily i was able to park free on the street in a spot I remembered from previous visits to the EDP office.

The previous day (Monday) I played my second chess game this year and played pretty well, but I lost in the end. For the record, here it is. White is John Allison (151), who I lost to last year in the same tournament (the Dons Knockout). 1 d4 Nf6 2 c4 e6 3 Nc3 Bb4 4 a3 Bxc3 5 bc c5 6 e3 Nc6 7 Bd3 0-0 8 Ne2 d5 9 cd ed 10 f3 Re8 11 0-0 cd 12 ed h6 13 Rb1 a6 14 Nf4 Qa5 15 Qb3 b5! (Nxd5, Nxd5; Qxd5 Qxc3 looks good for Black) 16 Rd1 Ne7 (…Nxd4 nearly works, but not quite) 17 Bd2 Qc7 18 a4 g5 (a bit too aggressive, maybe) 19 Ne2 ba 20 Qxa4 Bf5 21 Qc2 Qc4?! (too flashy; the position had been about equal) 22 Bxf5 Qxe2 (the knight on g6 is hanging) 23 Bd3 Qe6 24 Re1 Qd6 25 Be3 Kg7 26 Bf2 a5? (…Nh5 is essential to prevent the bishop getting to Bg3, a threat I had seen but  underestimated) 27 Bg3 Qd7 28 Bb5 (another downside of 26…a5) Nc6 29 Be5 Qc8 30 Qa2 Nxe5? (panicking; Rc8 was a better try but probably also loses) 31 de Qc5+ 32 Qf2 Rec8 (moving the knight may be better, but by now we were both very short of time) 33 ef+ Kxf6 34 Qd4+ Qxd4 35 cd Rc2 36 Bd3 Rd2 37 Red1 Ra2 38 Ra1 Rb2 39 Kf1 a4? 40 Ra3 Rb3 41 R1a1 Rab8 42 Be2 R8b4 43 Rxa4 Rb1+ 44 Rxb1  Rxa4 and we both stopped writing our scores here because we were so short of time. Eventually 1-0

Sunday was almost as sad. The Communion service was fine, with David making a surprise appearance after having been reported seriously ill a day or two earlier, and this was followed by a bring-and-share featuring some Polish stew called something like Biggles. But then we all had to answer certain questions on our tables and then report back, with the usual result that people who liked talking but didn’t say much were in the ascendancy. We left early to visit Jessie, who is much more fun. Roger and Debbie also showed up for a cup of tea and cake. So that was good.

Dot’s visit to Carrow Road last Saturday turned out well, with City winning 3-1 and going top, but since then they’ve slipped down, only drawing with Fulham away after going 2-0 up.  The weather’s taken a turn for the worse too: while the rest of the country seems to be having  rather a nice time, we are getting frequent showers.

Despite that, however, I managed to do some clearing up in the garden today, which is probably the only exercise I’ve had this week, apart from posting some letters. And cards: today is Amy’s 12th birthday! Nearly a teenager – hard to believe.

Last Sunday we had lunch with the Hendersons to celebrate Maryta’s birthday, which was actually the day before. Also present were Claire and Martin from Saxlingham.

Later in the day Dot and I went to The Cut at Halesworth to hear Dervish, a brilliant Irish group who have just finished a UK tour. They were superb, and we had good seats. I even spoke to one of the musicians afterwards – Brian McDonagh. He plays the mandolin. The singer, Cathy Jordan, is not only a stunning vocalist but very funny in her introductions and tells a great story. A really enjoyable evening.

On Monday I had to rouse myself early to take Phil to the doctor’s, navigating what is becoming worse and worse traffic in Norwich. There are hold-ups everywhere. The next day Dot had to go to the surgery to see a nurse, and I was going to pick her up halfway on Plumstead Road. That turned out to be shut, and although I managed to find her, we had to go across Mousehold, where there was a long queue at the ring road. No surprise there. Today I took Phil to the dentist (the word “taxi” springs to mind), and it took me nearly 20 minutes to get home, because Cattle Market Street is closed for downhill traffic.

On a brighter note, the Higbees came to lunch yesterday, and Dot cooked a lovely meal. I managed to Airplay the holiday pictures on the television, and Allan tried to sort out problems I was having with Office 365, the online version of Word. He is a bit of an expert, but not familiar with Macs, so had to give up. Much later I solved most of the problems by finding the OneDrive folder hidden in an unexpected place. Still not sure what the app is for, though.

In the process, however, I managed to put right  what was wrong with Apple TV, and that’s OK now. Things were looking up (and still are), but now I’ve been landed with a 1500-word article for The Magazine, and have to do my usual monthly 500 words or so for Parish Pump. Had a long talk on the phone with Anne, who is very distressed about David and Kristine’s plight.

Dave and Julia have been with us this week – arriving on Tuesday for lunch and leaving just after lunch yesterday. The weather was mediocre, with plenty of rain and the air definitely chillier.

After lunch on Tuesday we went for a walk along Riverside and into the city, stopping off at the Britons Arms in Elm Hill for coffee or, in my case, a spiced hot apple drink, which turned out to be very pleasant. We also booked a meal for Wednesday at the Côte Brasserie in Exchange Street, which has taken over from Café Rouge.

Wednesday was not promising, but we went ahead with our plan to try Walk With Me at Felbrigg. This was originally part of the Norfolk and Norwich Festival: it consists of walking round the grounds with an i-Pad and headphones, receiving auditory input and a kind of map on screen. The sound was quite good, but the latter consisted of just a rather confusing diagram of the grounds, and we struggled to know where we were. The rain didn’t help, although it was intermittent.

We spent about 90 minutes on this, which was par for the course, and on the way home called in at nearby Beacon Hill, the highest point in Norfolk. While at Felbrigg we were given our equipment by Trevor Thurston, a friend of Fred Riches’, who Dot recognised.

Our meal at the Côte Brasserie was very good.

On Thursday I lingered at home after a bad night with indigestion while the others went into the city. I met them in M&S for lunch, and afterwards we went for a walk on Mousehold before having a meal at Prezzo’s. Dot had possibly the best pizza she’d ever had, and I had one of the worst. Afterwards we watched Bridget Jones’ Baby at the Odeon, and I have to admit that it was extremely well done, and very funny. Renée Zellweger is perfectly cast, but the minor roles were also spot on.

On Friday we walked to Kett’s Heights, and were just emerging when we ran into Rob Knee, who was doing some research for a talk. We came home through the cemetery, and then drove to Costa at Riverside, where we bumped into Mairead and Richard Batson (not together). We also had lunch, after which the Evetts departed for Nottingham and Dot and I went in search of a throw and duvet cover for Amy’s birthday.

The rest of the day we spent dealing with computer-related issues and watching a fair bit of catch-up TV. Today will probably be the same, except that Dot is going to Carrow Road this afternoon. The rain seems to have abated for a while.

I have been getting around. On Wednesday I drove to London to see David C, who needed someone to talk to in view of recent health-related events. I had intended to go from there to Coventry to see Andrew, but I hadn’t been driving long before I realised I was too tired for that. It worked out well, because I was able to spend nearly four hours with David.

Instead I drove to Coventry yesterday afternoon, following church (where I was preaching). The vicar was in the congregation, but it went well. Anne T came with Chris and Zoe – home briefly from Australia – and we also had a couple of foreign visitors.  The drive to Coventry was quite good, but Andrew was not in a very happy  state: he was in his pyjamas and dressing gown and was even more disconnected than usual, moving around a lot and not able to focus on anything. I stayed for about an hour and a quarter and then drove home – not such an easy journey as the one in the other direction, but not bad. I stopped at Cambridge Services for a sandwich.

On Friday and Saturday Robert Fruewirth give his two days of speaking and silence on Julian of Norwich. I stayed at home on Friday because Baggageman were delivering our suitcase: they were supposed to be delivering it the day before but “were unable to gain access at 5.50pm”, which presumably meant they were tired and went home. I was here all day. As a result the Hendersons came round for drinks instead of us going there.

Anyway, the suitcase showed up at lunchtime on Friday, and Dot spent some time at St Luke’s. I also took Phil to the hospital for his neurology appointment, which went surprisingly well. He’s still in a lot of pain, but certain issues were clarified.

I went on Saturday alone, because Dot was preparing for an evening meal with Rob, Penny, James and Ann. Mr Fruewirth was good when he spoke, but there was a feeling that he didn’t speak enough. After one 40-minute talk on the Saturday morning, he followed up with an hour of relaxation, followed by a period of meditation, followed by lunch. Easy money.

Anna had her daughter and granddaughter there, but was not well on Sunday. Ayla made it with Howard , though, and paid close attention to my sermon.

Today it’s rather rainy, which is bad news for Dot and Anne, who are walking round Norwich as part of their health regime. I have been at home, getting very angry with my computer, which was funereal for an hour or so. I have given up completely on Apple TV. I’ve tried everything, and it still tells me it’s not connected to the network, when it clearly is. At least the TV is working.

Arrived back very late last night from Switzerland, after 17 hours on the road – or in this case on the tracks. Left Wilderswil hotel at about 7.40 Swiss time, and arrived home about 23.40 Norwich time. Journey was as follows:

Train from Wilderswil to Interlaken East, then Interlaken East to Bern, then Bern to Lausanne, TGV Lausanne to Paris Gare du Lyon, bus to Gare du Nord, Eurostar to St Pancras, Circle Line to Liverpool Street, train to Norwich. In between we had a croque madame (or in Dot’s case monsieur), at a cafe outside the Gare du Nord with our friends Peter and Joan Altman, from Hertfordshire.

The whole enterprise had started just over a week before, after Sunday Communion and lunch, when we got the rather full train to Cambridge, where we changed for King’s Cross – equally full. But we got seats OK. Our hotel, the California, was very close to the station and the room was comfortable, though at the top of three flights of stairs.

We walked across to St Pancras to check the meeting place for the following day and had a meal at Carluccio’s. Watched Poldark and went to bed by 10.15pm. Didn’t sleep particularly well, as usually happens when anticipating an early start next day.

On Monday morning we were up at 6, had quite a good breakfast at 7 (scrambled egg, bacon, sausage) and happily  found that not only could we check out, we could also leave. We were at St Pancras by about 7.50 and met our manager Richard Johnson, who started as he meant to continue by being vague about where we should meet at 8.30. It turned out to be the other side of the check-in, which meant we were about last through. Eurostar check-in is much like an airport, without the liquid obsession, and the travel conditions are not much better than an aeroplane: very little space and no window (in both directions).

At the Gare du Nord Richard had another bad moment, not being able to find the way to the Gare d’Est and having to receive help from other members of the party (18 of us). Still, we made it, and Dot and I had a drink and sandwich in the Starbucks and spent 70 cents each on the loo. Afterwards, spoke to Marian, an oldish woman from Wimborne, who’s travelling alone (and who later proved to be pretty nippy on her feet).

The TGV to Strasbourg was brilliant, travelling at nearly 200mph. We were upstairs (with a window) but very tired. Reached Strasbourg in two hours and booked into Le Grand Hotel. Nice room. Temperature outside 23C, a trend that was to continue. In the evening the group walked 15 minutes to a restaurant which was pretty average. Heavy rain overnight.

Tuesday was again dry and warm. We had the morning to look round Strasbourg, which is a beautiful but very dangerous city for pedestrians, with cyclists (and in rare cases cars) appearing from all directions, or toutes directions, as the French have it. Anyway we visited the Cathedral, walked by the river and had a snack in a cafe before taking the train to Basel and then Interlaken and Wilderswil. From the station we walked gradually uphill for about ten minutes to the Hotel Alpenblick. We were upgraded to a room with a balcony because our large case had arrived courtesy of Baggageman and they needed somewhere to put it. Excellent meal of meat fondue in the evening. One of our group complained at having to cook his own food; he also thought our starts were too late, because he usually gets up at 5.30am. We had a good conversation with Peter and Joan, who were more on our wavelength and, interestingly, Jewish.

Another beautiful day on Wednesday, when we were again free to do as we liked. Eventually decided on the Schilthorn, a high point with a revolving restaurant famous for its use in the 1968 Bond film On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, starring (for once only) George Lazenby. Met Nigel and Angela from Devon on the station and travelled with them: train to Lauterbrunnen, cable car and train to Mürren, walk through the village, then two more cable cars to the top. Stupendous views of Eiger, Mönch and Jungfrau.

Had tea and coffee in the revolving restaurant and ventured out onto the mountain, where we ate our sandwiches (packed lunch every day). Stopped off at Birg on the way back (Nigel and Angela had gone one ahead), to do the “Thrill Walk” around the mountain, part on metal, part cable, part glass. Not as death-defying as it sounds, but you had to concentrate. Bumped into our Devonian friends again on the way back, and bought some postcards from an Australian. On our return we took aperitifs on the hotel terrace to celebrate the owners’ 25th wedding anniversary. They were very welcoming, and so were their staff. The food was uniformly excellent.

Thursday was another sunny day – cooler at first but later very warm. On an organised excursion we took the cog railway from Wilderswil for a 7km journey steeply upwards to the Schyninge Platte (shining plateau). Great views again. Had drink with Peter and Joan, then went for a walk (Joan’s back is a bit dodgy, so they had to avoid steep walks). Met Marian, who walked further and faster than us, though she looks about ten years older.

Sat and ate lunch and thought we saw climbers on the Eiger. Bought sunglasses in case of fierce sun on Jungfrau as warned by company, then caught train back at 2.21. Eight of our party had left early, and we had a good conversation with a Swiss couple who had spent some time living in Toronto. Back at Wilderswil Dot and I decided to go to Interlaken East for a coffee and beer (we had free travel within a prescribed area, and there were no cafes in Wilderswil). Wrote postcards by river after emerging from station by wrong exit and taking a table at a hotel.

Had a really bad night with diarrhoea, so decided as it was another free day on Friday to start with a walk round the village, which proved very enjoyable. Ended up down by the  river and went to Interlaken East by train again, this time finding a cafe on a tree-lined street. Returned to the hotel for lunch, and although I was still feeling groggy (though my stomach had settled) we took the train to Grindelwald, where Dot bought a few presents while I took it easy, mainly in the Tourist Information Centre, watching ice hockey training.

Afterwards we had wine in a cafe and watched the mountains, which were very close here. The town is completely dominated by the Eiger, and I was able to see that what we had taken for climbers previously were two large upright rocks. BY the time we arrived back at Wilderswil on the train, I was feeling better. Had bath. At dinner had longish talk with Joan and Peter, mainly about synagogues and churches. Another good meal, but I cut back to get my stomach back on track. It seemed to work.

Saturday, October 1, was the big day. Needless to say, there was rain as forecast, but only a few drops on the way to the station. We caught the 9.10 to Grindelwald, where we changed to a rack and pinion  train up to Kleine Scheidegg, a magnificent viewpoint. From here we took the Jungfrau express – a 50-minute journey up through tunnels in the Eiger and the Mönch (a couple of five-minute stops to look through viewing windows at the Eigerwand and the Eismur) to the Jungfraujoch station, known as “the summit of Europe” at 3471 metres (11,388 ft). By way of comparison the cable ride up the Aiguille du Midi eight years ago took us to 3842 metres. Of course, that’s in France.

It was quite cloudy on the top, but we got some reasonable views. There was a middling Eispalast and a lift to the very top, plus opportunities to get out on to the snow, which was very slippery. We were lucky enough t o see the clouds lift so that we could get a view of the Aletschgletscher. We stayed for three hours and returned by a different route, via Wengen and Lauterbrunnen, which was if anything even more spectacular. A guard took a group photo at the top, using Peter’s camera. Peter is a photo-phanatic.

At supper we were on the table of death: two Bournemouth supporters, the tour manager and Ronald, who has absolutely no conversation. Bad night sleep-wise too.

Sunday was our last full day, and it was raining quite convincingly as we headed for the station. After the trip to Interlaken East, we went up the Harder funicular (disdaining the easy one), which was extremely steep. As use rose through the clouds we got some great views, and there was no rain at the top. We had a drink in the restaurant with Peter and Joan and another couple, then Dot and I did a 100-minute Rundgang that turned out to be pretty steep in places, particularly descending at the end. Saw very few others.

When we got back its was sunny, and we had another drink before heading back to the hotel earlier than usual so that we could pack. Quite an exercise deciding what should go in the big case that would not arrive home till some time after we did. Another nice meal ended in a whip-round for the excellent waiter (we had collected for his assistant the night before: it was her last night at the hotel).

Today we have been recovering. We arrived home to find our new shower installed and other jobs done, but the house was full of dust, which Dot has now expunged, and in some disarray because we had had to leave room for the workmen to do their stuff. All is now well and we are about to have supper (7.30pm). We have just been to the shop. Earlier this morning I went up to the pensioners’ coffee spectacular, and then came back.

Feeling a lot better, though not 100%. Weather is still quite pleasant, and we’re completing our holiday preparations following a visit to Carrow Road. I sat with Philip Robinson and Dot sat in her usual seat; so we were at opposite ends of the ground. Norwich won 3-1 after making hard work of most of the game.

Earlier today I was up with the lark (assuming it was a fairly tardy lark) to speak at the Hub Church breakfast meeting at Cringleford. I was standing in for Heather – no easy task – and I was a bit worried about precisely what form the event would take. It turned out to be quite a small gathering of agreeable people. I decided at the last minute to talk without notes, which was a bit hair-raising, but I think it was the right decision. I spoke on living water (John 4), and one child of about three definitely tuned in, asking if the water in his bottle was living. Karen was leading, and we had breakfast first.

Afterwards Dot and I went to Homebase to buy some taps for the bath, replacing the mixer tap with shower attachment which is now redundant (and dripping).

Last night we had Jessie, Roger, Debbie and Philip round for a meal, which was of course a whole-day event, though they didn’t arrive till 6pm. Dot put everything into it, including the house and garden. Excellent meal, and a nice evening.

On Thursday (working backwards) we were at Angela’s again, mainly looking through Ethel’s old pictures, which came mainly in the form of slides. The process was therefore time-consuming. We had another pleasant meal in the George halfway through, but didn’t get home till about 7pm. Still, we have just about completed the task.

Wednesday was just as full. Glenn and Colin (plus his son Billy) came to put in the bathroom electric shower, which required quite a bit of drilling and cable-running.  I thought they would continue the next day with the rest of the work, but no – this will be done while we’re away in Switzerland. In one sense, this is good. In another, it’s a bit nerve-wracking.

Our big suitcase left us on Tuesday via Baggageman. Big too big really, but the next size we had was too small. Now we can’t remember what’s in the big one. In the afternoon Dot went for a walk with Anne and her grandson Charlie, who is not lacking in confidence. In the evening Judy took us to Cake & Compline at the Archers’.  Delightful as always.