Having eaten inhuman amounts of molten cheese and drained a few bottles of the region’s finest white, we were in serious need of a leg stretch.
It’s just a hop skip and a jump from the restaurant’s terrace to the pebbly shores of Lake Arnen.
Off we marched, laughing, singing and peeling off layers of clothing as it got hotter and hotter.
You wouldn’t want to trip and land with your hand in that nest! ^
We’re both in OML London dresses. Navy for me, white for Watson.
Trotting along the path we pointed out flora, fauna & fungi. Completely over excited by our sumptuous surroundings!
We drank ice cold spring water that came spluttering from the wooden tap, catching it before it fell into the carved basin below (frosting our fingers and lips in the process!)
Finally we’d reached what everyone considered to be a good swimming spot.
But having walked all that way, it seemed Phoebe & I were the only ones who planned on making the most of it.
The others sat on the banks while we leapt in to the freezing, beautifully clear waters. Stopping for a few postcard pictures to send home along the way!
We swam as far as we dared, cautious of any lake monsters that might rear their heads at any moment to drag us into the depths.
But it wasn’t long before temptation got the better of us.
We couldn’t resist the call of the wild, the swimmers would have to come off.
Finally free and at one with nature, we rejoiced, forgot all about the monsters and swam out to the middle of the lake.
Far too soon, it was time to leave.
While we could have spent all day (or possibly forever) in that very spot, the others were bored and wanted to shop.
Begrudgingly we clambered out, shook ourselves dry in the sunshine and pulled on our dresses once more.
Strolling back along the rest of the lake, to the cars.
We met and befriended some moosical locals.
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Phoebe began to look more and more like a village woman by the second, so we were bundled into cars and rushed off to Gstaad for some slightly more civilised behaviour.
I immediately fell in love, before we could even exit the car park.
Meet Willy…
Isn’t he a beauty?
I’d love one of those, or an open top Land Rover… either would be dreamy!
Anyway, Gstaad is a beautiful, funny little place.
A chocolate box town filled with alpine lodges and pretty chalets. The streets are cobbled and flags flutter overhead.
Edelweiss-esque flowers spill from every window box, it’s a sort of Disney version of every Swiss village… but the streets are lined with Cartiers, Pradas and Vuittons.
While the others fingered their way through the designer bits, a couple of us headed out in search of local offerings.
There was one thing I knew I just had to get!
A Swiss collar for Custard.
I’ll let him show you what colour I went for, over on our Instagram (I say ‘our’ because he features just as much as I do!)
On returning home we read books by the fire and slurped cocktails in baths.
Everyone changed for dinner and the girls were told to wear party dresses.
Clean and spruced up, we couldn’t resist a few holiday snaps on the balcony.
White one for Phoebe, blue for me!
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We sat down to meal of stroganoff and mountains of local cheese.
If you’ve never had truffle brie, make it happen. You wont brielieve how good it is!
With all the best intentions of going out dancing… I hit a wall of tiredness after supper. Having jumped off mountains, into lakes, climbed hills and walked for miles, I quietly crept away to my bed and let the rest waltz out to da club.
As I was dozing off thinking how I hate to waste a good party dress, I was surprised to find Phoebe crawling into bed next to me… and snoring before her head hit the pillow!
