Swiss trains are notoriously high tech, but en route to Interlaken today I’m certain this one was put in place specially to confuse us embattled foreigners, because it took all four of us to figure out how to flush the toilet without simultaneously setting off the hand dryer, the hot tap and the water filter.

This didn’t faze us so much, as we’ve all been painfully aware for years that technology is the enemy: what was more distressing was the sudden discovery by Stephi and Laura that neither of their palms bear any trace of lifelines. Now not only is technology against us, but nature is too.

Naturally enough, we arrive in Zweisimmen five minutes too late to meet our connecting train, so we have no choice but to board this rickety old cattle carriage with bench seats and a squat toilet to take us to some out-of-the-way village were we could meet up with our intended train.

Finally, after taking about seven hours to traverse a country the size of a big toenail, we arrive in Interlaken: a playground for rich snow bunnies during winter, in spring and summer it is the home of extreme sports in Switzerland.

We dump our bags in our hostel dorm, cringe at the number of American accents around and make straight for the bar, which is underground and resembles nothing so much as a dungeon due to Swiss noise regulations, which see the ’shush police’ hanging out the front all night to ensure that no-one who steps outside the door speaks in more than a whisper. But it is here in the bar that we meet…