"Like the fella says, in Italy for 30 years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder and bloodshed; but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, they had 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did they produce? The cuckoo clock!" - Harry Lime, The Third Man.

I was leaving Chris behind for a few days and travelling off to Switzerland to see my cousin Jane and her family. Jane and I practically grew up together and it had been three years since we'd last seen each other so I was really looking forward to catching up.

The train ride from Paris to Lausanne was fairly uneventful until the TGV hit the base of the alps and then it slowed to around 50mph as it chugged up the winding track. The scenery wasn't particularly spectacular, but approaching Lausanne, you could see ragged, towering shapes on the horizon.

I met Jane at Lausanne station and we started heading for the hills. 

She lives in Heidi country in the mountains, and it was only when we travelled around Lake Geneva to Montreux that I started to realise the full scale of the mountains.

As we travelled ever upwards, my ears popping, the raw, astonishing beauty of the place captivated me. I love mountainous terrain, but there was just something so wild and yet comforting about the alps, as if I had retained some genetic memory from an ancient hill people and innately knew this was home.

Jane's a crazy driver. Not Homer Simpson crazy, but Charles Manson crazy. I had my foot pressed desperately to the floor on several occasions. I think she realised she was going a little fast when she asked what I thought of the scenery and I replied "I'm not sure - it's flashing by too quickly."

We arrived at Jane's place after driving in the mountains for a couple of hours. Here's what it looks like:

Jane and her husband David (coincidentally, David and I knew each other when we were kids) live in a chalet that is ten years short of being five hundred years old. It's amazing to think that its builder was already dead when the Great Fire of London broke out. These simple rural communities have been around for centuries, and little has changed about them, except for the addition of technology. People still herd their cows and goats around the mountain (leading to quite a horrific fly problem in summer which I saw the tail end of) but now they check the market prices on the Internet.

That night we went out with a couple of Jane's friends who had just moved to the area. We drank lots of beer and laughed until we were hoarse.

The next day, a little worse for wear, Jane and I ate, sobered up, and travelled to Gstaad for a little shopping.

Gstaad – look at the silly hotel on the mountain, and the silly man in the photo.

There was a classic car show in town and the heavens opened just as a few open topped vehicles were arriving, which was hilarious to watch from the comfort of shelter. When I say the heavens opened, I really mean it. The rain was torrential, wild, almost violent in its precipitation.

Gstaad was a little prim and dare I say it, dull. Not my kind of place at all.

Next day we went to Montreux. It's a beautiful city nestling on the shores of Lake Geneva. For some reason, light takes on a special quality in Montreux - it seems to play on the city's granite face as if it enjoys being there. Here, the breath of the mountains combines with the air of the lake and fills you up until you feel slightly heady.

Jane and I strolled beside the lake, observing how rhubarb, plantains and other exotic flora had been planted decoratively along the front.

We laughed about David's current habit of 'liking' everything on Facebook (you better like this blog David!) and then had a curry at a nearby restaurant. The curry was really strange. It had a coconut based sauce, was very mildly spiced and had lots of Sultanas in it. It was straight out of the Seventies, and I was sure it came out of a packet with 'Vesta' marked on it. Still, I quite enjoyed it. Which made me think. I worked in Jersey for three years and always said that the island felt like it was still stuck in the Seventies, but trying desperately to modernise. Switzerland not only feels like it's reliving the seventies, but the hands on that national cuckoo clock are actually regressing, propelling the country back in time. For this reason, I love Switzerland.

(Pedant note: the cuckoo clock is actually a German invention).

After lunch, we headed off to Gruyere (where the cheese originates from) which is picture postcard pretty, if not (apologies in advance) a little "cheesy".

I can just see the child catcher from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang creeping down these streets...

The fortress on the hill here commands an expansive view of the surrounding countryside, and must have been a formidable place to attack.

The following day I bade farewell to the mountains and travelled down to Geneva to meet Chris before flying to Stockholm. However, I had one more pal to meet up with first - George who I had worked with in Jersey and who had escaped the island to go contracting in Switzerland. George is Brazilian and has an honest, passionate nature which makes for great conversation. After a brief visit to the waterfront, we toured a few of the downtown bars. All were good and pretty lively, though I was astonished to notice that they hadn't banned smoking yet.

Anyone remember the TV show The Champions?

It was great seeing George again, as he seems a very happy man at the moment with lots of exciting opportunities to tempt him, and after putting the world to rights, we stumbled off in different directions.

Even as I got back to the hotel, I realised I was missing my cousin and her family, much as I was missing my sisters back home, but that's in the nature of travelling: onward, ever onward.