A quick update. In Germany the police said we could either report the man to the police in Switzerland Or in Sweden. In Sweden the police said “you can make a report but nothing will happen, we won’t do anything about it.” So I sent an e-mail to the police in Switzerland, asking if I could report the whole thing to them via e-mail.
“You must submit a criminal charges at the Swedish police (with the photo of the car and the number of the car). The Swedish police must then make a request for the ascertaining for the unknown car- driver to Switzerland (Interpol). Then comes the Inquiry to the police of Canton Solothurn and we answer back to the Swedish police. Then make the Swedish police a criminal charges against the car- driver. Finally, comes the lawsuit to Switzerland on our court.”
I will now print the e-mail and walk back to the Swedish police. Why must this be so difficult?
The mountains by Chamonix, the window shutters in Neuchatel, triathlon in Lausanne… it was a calm and relaxing trip with some adventures that you’ve already read about. In case you think my writing hasn’t been descriptive enough, here are some photos from France and Switzerland.
As we told our host in Freiburg what happened to us on the road earlier today he urged us to the police station. Now we just came back to his house, getting the mattresses ready and setting the alarm on 5:30 tomorrow. We are getting a shared car to Köln and the driver leaves at seven, and our host will give us an early morning tour around the city first.
At the police station the officer listened to us and then she spoke with her colleagues. “Because this happened in Switzerland and you are from Sweden there is nothing we can do. You have to either go back to Basel or go to the police when you come home.”
So we decided to go straight to the police as soon as we enter Malmö on Saturday.
One day I walked past a bright orange building in Malmö with the friends. The curtains all looked disgraceful in contrast of the building and my friend cursed the inhabitants for not match the curtains with the facade.
Here that just doesn’t happen. All shutters are matched with the building itself and windows are filled with colourful flowers rather than ill matching curtains.
Switzerland is one big hallelujah moment for old and colourful designing.
“You don’t pay, we forced you with us to have lunch so you don’t pay. After all we always share the check between us and it’s much easier to include yours as well.” One of the old men said after inviting us for a luxurious lunch in Martigny. They didn’t exactly force us though, we hadn’t eaten since breakfast many hours earlier and came with them more than willingly.
It was noon and the men had both red and white wine, and afterwards they said they would drive us all the way to Lausanne even though it was a detour for them. “When I saw you by the road I immediately went back 40 years in time. I used to hitchhike Everywhere!” I think it was the oldest man in the company who said it.
When approaching Lausanne there was an airshow with airplanes flying in formations. “It’s the Swiss army flying Swedish gripen” one of the men joked.
Suddenly the man next to the driver turned around in his seat and said with strong voice “This is The Lake of Geneva! And there is the Castle of Chiel.” The view was astonishing with the mountains behind the lake and the clouds reflected in the silver coloured water. A man was surfing on the waves behind a speedboat.
“Over there you can see Mont blanc and Chamonix” someone said and pointed at a point far behind the low clouds.
Whenever the car hit a bump in the road the old men shouted “oooah!” It echoed between the walls of the mini van. When we reached the highway they applauded and cheered as well as when we passed the carravanettes (is that really a word btw?).
But that is not where our journey began this day.
We hitchhiked with three sisters in their sixties out of Chamonix. The thick clouds hung low between the mountains and we drove right into them as we started the drive down our first mountain in Switzerland. Then, coming close to the edge, we saw the small town of Martigny reveal itself down far below us. The steep hills were decorated by black grapes.
The ladies dropped us by the turn off to Lausanne and not long after did the mini van stop. Inside were twelve old men cheering at us, we stuck our heads inside to see if there really was any space for the two of us. “yes yes! Here is space, and here!” They said, and we decided to squeeze in.