Being Swiss, the Gentle Giant is super-efficient, right down to having a copy, at home, of the timetable for trains and buses for the whole country. A weighty tome, no less.
Whenever it was my turn to go over, I’d want a trek in the mountains, be it just a day trip or a longer one. Out would come the timetable, as the Master of Precision planned the trip down to the nearest minute — nay, second, as we could still run for the train or bus then.
On one of these trips, to the Italian part of Switzerland, his parents were going cross-country skiing in Pontresina, which was sort of on our way, so we made a small detour and dropped in to have lunch with them.
After lunch, we boarded the last carriage of the St Moritz-bound train, nice and early — by some 25 minutes.
We sat chatting and chatting, and the next thing was, we saw the rest of the train pulling out of the station, leaving us behind. Of all the carriages to pick, we had to choose the one that had been uncoupled!
We leapt out of the train, hailed the first taxi that came along, and ordered the driver, “Follow that train!”
(Switzerland, 1987?/1988?)
