We have several big travel days planned, and this was one of them. We needed to depart from Bad Ischl at 8am, drop off the rental car in downtown Salzburg by 9.30, and stroll across to the railway station, where we would board a Railjet train to Zurich – a 5 hour journey across the Arlberg Pass (with a non exchangeable ticket that would cost us large amounts of money if we ended up on a different train). Then we were to collect a new car in downtown Zurich, and drive out of the city to our accommodation in Eiken. Simples!

We departed on time and followed Google into Salzburg. Got petrol. Followed Google to the Hertz office, only to find it was on the other side of a plaza full of buses. Some illegal driving and a hunt for an elusive car park, round the block and have another go. Pulled up outside Hertz’s office – closed due to public holiday. Hmm, this was not mentioned when we booked, or picked up the car.  No idea what to do, and time ticking away.  Spotted small note on door – “if closed, go to Hotel Europa”. Looked around frantically but saw no sign of it. Bailed up a bus driver who waved at a multi storey building across the street. Nothing on it indicated it was the Hotel Europa.

Dashed into lobby and asked nice receptionist for help . “Yes” she said bemusedly, “You can drop off here, but you have to park the car in the railway station garage”.  Where the hell is that? She drew me a sketch.

Now only 15 mins till train leaves, and we still had to park, return the key, then find the station and the platform. Starting to feel desperate. Drove around block again, executed probably illegal U-turn into garage. No idea where to leave car but spotted Hertz signs on wall.  Frantically grabbed stuff spread all over car and threw it all out the doors. I was tasked with running back to the hotel desk with keys, while Ian set off with all our luggage to the station. No idea how to get out of the garage. Orienteering skills were no use without a map, so I harassed a helpful local.

Emerging at ground level and dashing madly back into hotel, I dodged a lobby full of people checking out. Threw the keys and parking ticket at nice receptionist, hopefully she sorts it.  Sprinted to station and looked for departure platform. Eight minutes left. Where the **** is Ian?  Oh, over there.  Thank God.  With echoes of Phil saying “you are the last team to arrive. I’m sorry to tell you that you have been eliminated from The Amazing Race”, we jumped into the lift, found the correct section of train, heaved the cases into a luggage rack, and collapsed.

I’m not sure what the scenery was like for the first half hour. I was too busy trying to breathe. But here are some quick snaps of the rest of the trip.  Five hours on a gently rocking train was very soothing. We chugged through Austria, Liechtenstein and into Switzerland, over the Arlberg Pass. It was very pleasant. I can’t say we noticed any difference between the three countries. Mountains, rivers, lakes, villages, all very neat and tidy.

Austria

Liechtenstein (blink and you miss it)

Liechtenstein on the left, Switzerland on the right

Swiss mountains

Swiss castle

Swiss lakes

Alighting in downtown Zurich, this time Google led us to the right place. We now have a black Opel, a bit of a tank but it has satnav thank goodness. We negotiated our way out onto the freeway and in 45 minutes arrived in the the small, unremarkable village of Eiken, and let ourselves into our Tiny House.

After settling in, we headed into our fourth country for the day – Germany, which is five minutes up the road, across the Rhine and through a border post, which seems to serve no particular purpose. We’d forgotten Switzerland is not part of the EU. If Ireland is worried about border crossings post-Brexit*, they should be reassured by this one, which apart from providing a bit of shelter for the under-employed guards, seems completely superfluous. There is a raging trade in cheap supermarket products being exported from Germany into its neighbouring country, but no evidence of goods flowing in the other direction.

Tiny House is exactly that – a prefab bungalow squeezed into the garden of a normal suburban property. It has a bedroom, bathroom, kitchen and lounge/dining area – very adequate for us, everything modern and clean. The bed is wonderfully comfortable and the shower is wonderfully hot. It also has a lovely sunny terrace, shaded by an apple tree. There is a dishwasher, washing machine, and Netflix. We watched The Bachelor in German (tired of BBC World News) – we couldn’t understand a word, but there were roses and tears, and the body language was the same.  The only thing Tiny House doesn’t have is breakfast bowls – despite cupboards full of everything known to man, there is only one bowl of an adequate size to fill with cornflakes, so we are tag teaming our cereal. The joys of travel.

*Just putting it on the record that I am completely anti Brexit. Bloody stupid idea. So there.

Tiny House