Our experience was rounded out by the consumption of many grilled sausages and a closing parade of Alpine horns and people lugging large cowbells. These characters were not actually playing the bells, they were just carrying them. The bells sort of clanged on the carrier’s knee with each step. Ooooh, bet that leaves a mark.
We boarded the little red train for our return journey. Leisurely making our way down the Jura, we were pleased to see a herd of civilian-wear cows stopped at a train crossing. Addi waved energetically and let out an excited “moooooo!” I mooed, waved along, and then took a sharp breath as Mount Blanc revealed itself in the distance. Our moos became whoas. It was a charmed Swiss day.
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