Day 1

DAY ONE

Today I quit my home in Whitehall Place for the invigorating air of the Swiss Alps. I scarcely shut my eyes et voila -- we had arrived so speedily we might have flown through the very air itself.

Ah Switzerland. So clean, so neat, so tidily run. I must tell my husband the European Secretary: perhaps he shall be able to organise some Europe-wide union between countries. On the other hand, it would never work. I can hear the money rushing down the drain with the force of Reichenbach Falls.

Sherlock solves the Mystery of the Trains Running on Time. "It's Swiss, Watson!"

So who is in our little party? Who isn’t, darling! All  the usual suspects -- including that nebulous Napoleon of Crime, Moriarty, Cardinal Tosca, The King of Bohemia, Mr Holmes’ long-suffering housekeeper Mrs Hudson, and no less than two persons who call themselves assistants to a Baritsu teacher (Baritsu, is this the original zumba?)

Ooh la la, the fashions…. The ladies and the gentlemen were melting in the splendid heat of a late Swiss summer. Piped into a splendid luncheon in Zurich au style ecossaise: the blare is quite pronounced. If Mr Holmes was desirous of a discreet entry into this sparkling alpine city, he will be disappointed. I was not. Lady H loves a good reeling.

By train to Interlaken -- with the nefarious Moriarty lurking like the shadow of the Eiger amongst us.

Nestled between the shimmering Lakes of Brienz and Thun, like glory on high, the setting is breathtaking.

Brass bands, horse-drawn carriages, even motorised carriages (!) deliver us to the Hotel Victoria-Jungfrau for the day’s pinnacle: an audience with Her Majesty Queen Victoria. (Whilst The Queen quips on her “innumerable children” and that Victoria and Jungfrau in this context are “unlikely companions”, I sneak a peek into the hotel spa -- taking the waters here is in fit for any queen.

Even the dear Cardinal requires divine libation on arrival in sunny Interlaken.

We dine in belle époque splendour of the Hotel Royal-St Georges, then to our rooms. Excitement crackles in the dry mountain air.

Either that, or a slight touch of the vapours.