Warning: long non-guitar-related post 
A couple of weeks ago I mentioned my brothers Hans, Anders and I were travelling to Switzerland on a 40-year school reunion (happens every 10 years)
I collated some pics to remind me of the experience in my dementia years, and this seems as good a place to store them as any 
Browse and skip at leisureā¦
Part I
We flew out to Zurich on Thursday, hired a car and headed off to Bern where our family lived for 4 years.
Roadside lunch Ć la carte
We spent two days at our old friend Nilsā house (centre) with BBQsā¦
ā¦ and pool time
The river Aare more or less defines the capitol
Itās really fast flowing, and swimming in it is one of my favourite pastimes when conditions are right, but at less than 14 degrees, I was the only one without the need to demonstrate my manhood
Visited the house we lived in half a century ago. Nothing has changed except the size of the trees
(in contrast to our hair which has grown shorter over the years
)
Oh, yes, Rogier asked for nature picsā¦ Yummy cherries!
Nils put us up in his son Larsā bedroom. I was pleased to see he plays guitar and test drove his collection. Gibson, Schechter, Taylorsā¦ I started retuning them but stopped upon breaking a string on the very first one and stuck to a bit of strumming on the Taylor
We set off on Sat morning to stay with our friend Thomasā family in the hills overlooking lake Zurich. On the way we stopped off at the lake for lunch with an old friend and his daughter. It was good to catch up again after what must be over 20 years.
Iāve been off the sauce for a while now, but gave myself leave to indulge a bit on this trip (although not excessively). Tom keeps a very well-stocked cellar of aged single malt Scotch
Sunday afternoon we went for a lovely walk up the hill behind his house will gorgeous views down to Zurich on the one sideā¦
ā¦ and up the valley to where our old school in Einsiedeln (circled) lies on the other. The arrow is the Grosse Mythen, a long hike with a small restaurant on top and spectacular views
Sunday afternoon we made the pilgrimage to the olā alma mater, run by the monks of the Benedictine abbey. They happened to be celebrating 100 years anniversary of the āWelttheaterā, a huge production that many of the villagers partake in. And I thought they were just pleased to see meā¦
Informal drinky-poos in the sunny courtyard, with folk drifting in from all over the country and then off to a meal in a nearby restaurant with chit-chat till late.
The following, morning we had the āformalā part of the reunion with a school tour, classroom visits and Q&A session with the headmaster,
(I always forget how long and bare the corridors wereā¦)
followed by a class photograph (yours truly at the back)
and the official lunch with the abbot in the āgrand roomā
After lunch the school orchestra traditionally plays an outdoor gig for visiting āsurvivorsā. They must have included Black Sabbath and a bit of Deep Purple just for me
My friend Thomasā daughter joined the band even though she finished a year ago (clarinet in the centre)
Part II
After five days of excessive opulence and luxurious living, it was time to rejoin the āreal worldā 
I packed my rucksack, bought a large salami and loaf of bread and got Tom to give me a lift to the nearest motorway service station, aiming to hitchhike to St. Fargeau, about 200 km south of Paris, where my liāl brother Conor is buried. Hitching used to be my favourite mode of travelling, as you get to meet āinterestingā people (who are often quite relaxed about having to listen to me ). Itās been a long time since Iāve seen anyone hitching and wondered whether it was still feasible 
In a nutshell: In Switzerland, no. In France, still ok-ish.
It took me over an hour and a half to get a lift with a Macedonian truck driver two thirds of the way to Basel,
ā¦ but got stranded (at a good hitching spot) for 2 1/2 hours on the motorway.
I decided to cut my losses and walked to the nearest town, catching a bus and train to Basel, where I crossed the border, to try my luck in France.
I had more success here and caught about four lifts west, to the autoroute entrance outside Belfort. Happy with the way things were going, I found a sheltered spot beside the motorway entrance and pitched my flimsy 15 yr old, Ā£20, Tesco pop-up tent to settle down for the night
At 4 am I woke to the distant roll of thunder
From then on there were increasing flashes of lightning with the rumbling approaching. When the pitter patter started on the tent, I was initially hopeful, as it didnāt come straight through, but by morning, I was well and truly damp (although thankfully not soaking).Do I continue hitching or cut my losses and head up to Paris on public transport? A quick look at the weather forecast (rain for the day and more thunderstorms at night) made my mind up for me.
Up to Mulhouse with the bus and train to Paris, where I āchecked inā with my nephew whoās living in my sister-in-lawās apartment in central Paris.
My batteries literally and metaphorically charged, I caught a train early the next morning to Briare (on the Loire) and then a few more lifts, hitching to St. Fargeau.
āYou have arrived at your destination!ā
Conor and his wife Astridās house next door to her uncleās castle:
First things first: off to the local graveyard to say hi to Conor.
Thereās not enough music in graveyards, so I decided to join in the birdsong and pay homage in my own wayā¦
I next visited the 13th century local church where I had a āreligious experienceā after Conorās funeral, to see if God was still there. Well, Iām guessing he was, but must have had more important things to attend to than to stop by and shoot the breeze with me this time
I still had a couple of hours before my sister-in-lawās mum was arriving, so visited the castle, where weāve visited so often.
I just realised that the great hall where they had their wedding receptionā¦
lies right beside the chapel that we held his funeral in
I took a long walk around the groundsā¦
Thereās never a guitar and amp when you need one
Oh, and more flowers for Rogier
After a lovely meal and good nightās sleep at the in-lawsā, I headed back to Paris on the train in time to catch a good eveningās entertainment as it was Franceās Festival of Music day
Pan pipesā¦
& reggae
God, I love Paris 
A quick flight back home with a smile on my face and a sigh of reliefā¦
Will I do it all again in 10 years time?
Now whereās my guitar?
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(see this as an poppy )
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% agree, heartwarming to see you sing for your brother! People should do that more often 