Forty nine days

This week: Balsthal: Olten: Saalhof: Brugg: Dielsdorg: Zurich: Zurich: tomorrow home.

Event Horizon

As far as I can go, Zurich, the outer edge of my walking endurance. 600 miles. My Limit? Physically drained, wiped out but stimulated by being in a city. Happy to be here. My mind still wants to wander. Habit. Stop.

Thanks to Peter Ench and Gallery Weiss for the woodcut. 

Three crashes, one day.

Having some lunch, out of the way, by the river. A bit of quiet, an opportunity to read. A woman with a pomeranian strolls along, dog yapping. They stop behind the bench, another dog walker stops with her chihuahua. The two dogs yap wildly whilst their owners talk. The little dog is on an extendable lead. I'm trying to read. A cyclist smashes into the back of the bench, just avoiding going into the river. He has hurt his leg, the bike is badly bent. He had  got tangled up in the extended  lead. Everyone is shocked. The dogs are quiet. The dog owners know they are to blame

Hot afternoon on a small mountain road, no traffic. Stream running close by. A very beautiful stream. Cool clear water. The road has just been resurfaced, warnings about Grit. Car goes by. I go round the corner and can see that the car has hit a tree, and gone into the stream. The driver has climbed out. The car is badly damaged, Driver OK but upset. Police car, and then tow truck arrive almost immediately.

Lovely evening. Two cyclists, helmets and cycling gear, flying down through the town. Getting dark but you could see them coming from a long way off. They shoot through the arch then realised there are steps downward on the other side. Bikes and cyclists come apart. They sprawl either side of my table. One of the bikes was bent but the cyclists seemed OK, hobbling a bit, damaged pride.

The farmer Johannes owns a dairy herd. Twenty cows, each cow has a bell with a different acoustic. Listening out for the bells tell him where each of them are. Johannes says his biggest problem is tourists nicking the bells. Three went last week.

Linden woods

Another hare, the pied wagtail returned with a badly fitted yellow head transplant, I sat in a pasture full to brimming with tiny wild strawberries. 

Walking into town.

Horses; sirens; scaffolding companies; large dogs; white painted tin fences; recycling; rusting lorries; roof tile suppliers; Amcor (and whatever it is they produce); buses turning round; small dogs. 

Ear wigging

Small group of suited business people (men) discuss the politics of the new pope. They are in this town for a conference on wine distribution.

Two groups meet in a suburban street. They discuss mushrooms.