Hygge, Swiss style, or Paradise with cows.

Later the same day....

We needed bread for lunch. Now safely ensconced in Camping Obsee we headed off on foot to the nearby village in search of a bakery. By the time we got there they had all closed, it was lunchtime. I think the Swiss take their lunch break seriously, as we passed through the camp site there was a serious amount of outdoor cooking going on. Everyone was very friendly and smiled and said hello as we passed-by, even a small girl playing with her toy farm by the path, gave us a big grin and said, 'Alo'.

Picturesque village, where are the shops?

As we wandered around the village in search of a loaf, stopping occasionally to take pictures of the ancient buildings, I commented, "people seem really relaxed and friendly." Gill replied with a question, "Did you read the piece on the BBC website this morning about the Danish idea of 'hygge." Luckily we found a supermarket open and the discussion turned to more pressing, bread related, concerns. So I avoided needing to admit that I had never made it beyond the Sports section, and my sole knowledge of stories of the moment related to the managerial machinations of 'The Special One'.

Back at the van lunch having been munched I managed to read the article Gill mentioned. The Danish concept of 'hygge' has no direct translation in English, the nearest we can manage is 'cosiness', but this does not quite capture notions of conviviality, self-care and shared social experience that are also connotations of the term in Danish. The point of the article made was to speculate that the findings that the Danes often came out as the happiest people on the planet may be related to the pursuit of 'hygge'.

Interestingly the Swiss are up there with the Danes in the happiness league. Our experience this morning of a Swiss Saturday, the family lunches, the happy kids playing outside, the wedding party having drinks be the lake-side and the general bonhomie, all led me to wonder if Swiss culture had its own version of hygge going on, even if they have not coined a term for it.

Perhaps it's a Swiss tradition at weddings to crack open the drinks in the car park.

The sun broke through after lunch and we unloaded the bikes and headed up cycle track Gill had spotted on Google maps. It wended its way through a clutch of small farmsteads, each little more than a chalet and cowshed. On the geranium decked terraced people were sitting out in the autumn sunshine. Most greeted us, or gave a friendly wave as we passed. I began yto think that the settlement pattern itself reflected a kind of relaxed conviviality, or 'hygge'. The sense of autonomy found in each individual farm is enriched by the proximity of others, achieving a balance of individuality and community. Perhaps the entire social structure is a form of confederation, a pattern reflected in the larger national institutions based on a federation of cantons that has existed unchallenged for 500 years.

The whole valley is covered on smallholdings

The bike track circles the lake.

Such musings were brought to a halt as the track turned upwards passing through the woods that covered the hillside next to the mirror-still lake. More mundane thoughts took over, like, ouch! my knees are not what they used to be.

We reached a clearing with near a chalet, some giant wood piles and a meadow of tan coloured dairy cows, each with a large bell around their neck, which clangs like a Buddhist temple bell as the cattle graze.

The chalet itself was beautifully situated with a view beyond the local wooded hills across the the massif of snow covered peaks to the west, including the Jungfrau and Eiger, each over 3000 metres. Guidebooks are always taking about views that are breathtaking, you rarely experience one in actuality. Yet when I turned around and saw the scene before me a found myself saying. "Gill, this looks like some kind of earthly paradise". A cliché? Maybe, but at that moment it seemed genuinely the case.

Perfection?

We had cycled about halfway back to the campsite when we heard a cacophony of cow bells. Slowly around a corner a few hundred feet ahead a herd of cattle were being driven homewards for milking. We pulled off onto a patch of waste ground to let them pass on the narrow track. The procession was led by a teenage girl wielding a fairly hefty staff. Her younger sister followed a few feet to the left of the herd ensuring they did not stray from the track. The farmer himself was positioned amidst the herd, gently goading and prodding the beasts onwards. The youngest two children brought up the rear, including one child who looked barely school age. The entire scene seemed archetypal and could have been enacted anytime in the past five millennia when first pastoralists inhabited these high, fertile meadows. Well, except for the fact that mum was following on behind in a Toyota Hilux.

What a great day we've had here in this somewhat overlooked corner of Switzerland. We may be just a few miles away from frenetic, crowded Interlaken, but it feels so remote, both in terms of distance and time from the more famous resort. I hope it remains so.