Day 26: Munich to Bern

Highlights:

• Snow-covered German countryside
• Swiss Albert's impression of a Mancunian
• Bern

After my horrific lack of supplies on the train to Ljubljana, I made a trip to the local Lidl to stock up. At home, I love Lidl. Nothing is any logical order and it's all a bit potluck what you come out with. Usually some unbranded curry sauce and a cheap bottle of prosecco. When you're in a hurry, the lack of order is annoying. I came out with some water and two croissants for a 6hour journey. Brilliant.

I unmade my bed at the hostel as required (begrudgingly), checked out and headed to the station. To emphasise German train efficiency even further, the ticket office has one of those old-school deli ticket machines, where you wait comfortably in the chairs for your number to be called. On being told 'sie konnen aber sie nicht mussen reservier ein setz', I hopped on the train to Mannheim and found a cushty table seat. Cushty until a seemingly cute little girl came and sat opposite me and started innocently kicking me.

Housemate Abbie tells me I've described every location I've been as beautiful, so I'm going to do a little Joey from Friends inappropriate thesaurus usage to liven up my descriptions. The German countryside covered in snow was PHYSICALLY ATTRACTIVE. As the snow fell down, and we passed these little cabins, the view was just HANDSOME. We're talking seriously PULCHRITUDINOUS (what?)!

I changed in Mannheim, somewhere in South-West Germany I think, where it was snowing and icy cold. The cold you can only feel when standing on an exposed train platform for 30minutes. Lots of old ladies, in their thin old lady shoes were doing little keep warm feet dances, so I joined in. The trains to Basel were all delayed, presumably because of the snow, but it gave me the opportunity to cement the german word for 'platform' (gleis) to memory. So eventually onto Basel, and then onto Bern.

I arrived in Bern around 5pm. My guide had described it as 'the most underrated capital in Europe', and I think on first impressions, it's been the most impactful on this trip. For once, I didn't get lost, and trundled my way down the main street (Marktgasse) to head to my hostel in the East. The main road was bordered either side with covered walkways with unique shops on one side and huge archways allowing you back onto the street on the other. The view through these archways, with the snow falling in front of all these Diagon Alley shops, was RESPLENDENT.

I crossed the River Aare (Pub Quiz Fact) and found my hostel down a little stairway on Alternbergerstrasse. It was called the Landhaus by Albert and Frida, and I think I was welcomed in by Frida. She looked bemused when I mixed french and german in one sentance and switched to English for me then showed me around. I was in a 6-bed dorm, though these were split into 2-bed cabins, allowing a little more privacy. They had a cancellation, so I actually had my own cabin for the evening.

As is standard with my arrival in a new city (and most evenings really), I treated myself to some red wine (Fransozich, bitte). I then tried to work out the Swiss plug socket. Different from the rest of Europe, apparently. Albert had joined Frida behind bar and was excited when I asked for 'noch eins rot wein' (thanks, Gurk). "But your German is so good!" We had a little conversation about England. They loved London. Like every single person I've met on this trip, they said the people there are just so helpful and friendly. London may have its bad points, but I'd agree that the people are probably the friendliest and smiliest. There's more laughter in London than anywhere else. I felt a bit of pride, but again had to defend English cuisine. SIDE NOTE Seriously, why does no-one appreciate a good Shepherd's pie? It doesn't have to be covered in salt, butter and a rich sauce to be tasty. Shepherd's pie, or a nice stew, or bangers and mash. Quality cuisine.

I said to Albert I loved Germany, and had great first impressions of Switzerland. He mentioned that one of his favourite English phrases was "Don't mention the war!" (A Cleese fan). His second favourite was expressed to him in anger in Manchester. He'd just arrived and had headed to the pub when this drunk manc came up to him and said "fooking shitalian". Albert cackled as he retold this. "I wish I were a shitalian, but I'm just a boring Swiss". He repeated 'fooking shitalian' to himself a few more times, in quite a good Manchester accent.

So seeing as I was in Bern and Switzerland, famous for raclettes and fondues, I went and had Japanese for dinner. It's always odd being in a foreign country, ordering food from a different foreign country. Trying to work out Swiss-German pronunciation of Japanese words. Tricky. An expensive dinner, but it was worth it.

I headed back through the snow and the BEAUTEOUS (it's still different, Abbie), glittering lights of the small houses on the hill.

End of day 26.