I owe a Swiss village an apology.
It has occurred to me that Italy and Switzerland hold a special place in my memory, as they were two of the first countries I visited.
I have always considered Italy to be the first country I landed in when I first left these shores, but technically, this is not true.
Our plane landed at Perpignan in France and a coach took us over the border to Italy.
I am afraid I am not going to count an airport and a coach pick up as a visit. Sorry France: Italy is still my first foreign visit in my mind.
I enjoyed a wonderful holiday in Italy and returned two years later for my second visit to that wonderful country.
Switzerland was my first “solo” foreign visit as I went on a school skiing trip to Champery, a lovely village where all the chalets looked like cuckoo clocks.
It was the first time a group of school kids from the East End of London had ever seen a duvet, then called a continental quilt. We thought they were eiderdowns and wondered where the sheets and blankets were.
I returned to Switzerland with my school the following year. This time to a village Lucerne, and I have a belated apology to make to this town.
We were there for New Year’s Eve, and we all found a café to go and celebrate the coming New Year.
This particular establishment had a small trio consisting of fairly elderly gentlemen playing drums, bass and accordion, and were playing what I assume was traditional Swiss music.
The clientele were also fairly elderly people, but bear in mind, we were all about fifteen, so everybody over thirty looked old.
Somehow, we got this little band to play as close to rock and roll as they could, and we all began jiving. It was a mixed school, and we took our own girls with us.
We were enjoying ourselves and so was the band, but the ancient clientele was not. So, they had us thrown out.
This is where I should hang my head in shame. My friend Kenny Allen and I decided that revenge was called for.
The café had very tall widows with an open skylight at the top. The street outside has lots of snow and ice. Kenny and I made two snow and ice balls.
I threw mine, aiming for the skylight, but it fell short and hit the window with a thump. My friend Kenny was a better shot than me and his snow/ice ball sailed in a perfect arc straight through the open sky light and onto the aged ones below.
I have no idea what the effect was on these poor unfortunates, because we legged as fast as we could.
So, if any of those people are still with us, I apologise for my disgraceful behaviour.
But on the other hand, you should never have thrown us out, (you miserable old gits.) 😁
I have never been back to either country since then, however I have a strong connection with Italy.
My youngest daughter married a Sicilian and I have three grandchildren who are half Sicilian, and their paternal grandmother is an excellent cook.
More stories from me.
When writers block hits, I resort to meandering.
Would you purposely lose your child?
