Monday and Tuesday 30 June & 1 July 2025
Monday starts a long
24 hour travel day with our shuttle to JFK and an easy check in. This was
followed by a two hour delay in the incoming aircraft and thus a delayed departure.
The Swiss Air flight was average but we managed a couple of hours sleep on the
7.5 hour trans Atlantic flight. As we arrived late (8.30 am) into Zurich, we of
course missed the connection to Bordeaux. Next flight, 6.00 pm. As good as it
was, we didn’t intend to spend the entire day in the Swiss Air lounge at the
airport. So, enter the Schengen area here. Immigration, passport control, ESA
for Switzerland, stamp the passport and ‘welcome to Switzerland.’
We walk to the train
station and off to Zurich old town in a very dry and hot 36 C. A tram ride and
a ferry boat ride on the lake. A local German bratwurst and hot dog. A good,
cold German beer and an Aperol Spritz. Look, look, click, click and back to catch
the excellent short hop to Bordeaux on an Embraer jet.
Despite possibly
losing a couple of grand, because we also missed cancelling our car hire, we
booked another, hoped our travel insurance would cover the cost and proceeded
to see what the Hertz bloke would say.
He was struggling.
The days of 36+C temperatures were taking their toll. But, to give him his
dues, he was happy, spoke English and offered us a similar vehicle for only a
few hundred more. We still hope the travel insurance will be OK.
We’re pretty stuffed
by this stage. So, crank up the AC, punch in the route to the phone and head
for the A10, feeling that we are indeed lucky. Once on the road, we turn the
directions off and drive from memory, on an almost deserted motorway, to our
French retreat. It’s now 9.00 pm and the sun is about 20 mins from setting.
The dodgy padlock on
the door to the laundry, where hidden in the soap box, is the key to the house;
where inside the house in the key box are the keys to the gate and our room in
the dependence. Suffice to say, that after ten frustrating minutes, Flashy is
looking for a rock to smash his way in. Lady P’s little fingers manage to
massage the lock to open and we are truly home, drinking gin and bitters in the
balmy evening. Bed at 11.00 pm.
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