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.