Doris, the breakfast nun, thrust out her hand and before I could recall Dorita’s handshake of the night before, she crushed it again (all 40 kilos of her). Apart from the damage she was doing to unsuspecting guests she was delightful, funny,
and had the energy to run the distances we were walking, and we got all of this without her having to speak one word of English. She was one of those few people who can communicate well without either party knowing what the other is saying.
Photos were taken, directions were given and farewells were had – this time I grabbed both of the nuns by the left shoulder and with my right hand behind my back, gave them three kisses each.
Large puddles were evidence of a rainy night but as usual no wet weather in sight. At the first crossroad we said goodbye to our Swiss neighbours, Kerin and her father. She had spent time in Canada so was fluent in English. She told us about Rutli, a village they would pass through this morning – we had heard that it was a treacherous route so we avoided it. This was where three different cantons (regions) got together and decided to form Switzerland in 1291.
On the ferry crossing (there was a lake in our way) we noticed it was like fast forwarding our walk – we could see so many different landscapes in such a short time, in fact a bit of overload.
We walked past some goats who thought we had something for them and would have trampelled us but for the fence. Sauntering along by the lake for a while gave us yet another perspective of the stunning scapes. It was that seventh day of the week so the cow, sheep, and goat bells were competing with the church bells.
Corrie got another salad for lunch as I looked around unsuccessfully for a lunch spot. I wanted more than a salad so I returned to the co-op to buy some extra stuff. I said no to the receipt but eagerly grasped a free large block of Swiss chocolate because it was Mother’s Day. I have stopped trying to work out why I got one and Corrie didn’t. My Mother’s Day gift was shared with Corrie and Ludwig, a retiree from Austria, on a red lunch chair next to a small chapel, so when it began to rain we had the perfect change room.
We passed quite a few family bike outings and everyone greeted us as we passed them. The last few kilometres were through grass fields that, except for the little pilgrim sign, we probably would have looked for another route. As you are now well aware of my wife’s afternoon sprints, and because of this, she hadn’t noticed an older Swiss couple wanting to chat.
I got some addresses for the night and soon left as it continued to rain for our last 4km sprint into the majestic Swiss valley river town of Stans. We’re in an hotel because the cow sheds and straw beds are all taken.
