retiredmartin

June 2024. Stansted. Basel.

Two years ago I was in the middle of unrelenting UK travel that would only end with the completion of the Beer Guide. I really must tell you about that someday.

Now it’s Mrs RM’s time to tick, as she homes in on European glory as surely as Scotland in Stuttgart tonight.

Our latest 4 day trek (the longest time I feel OK about being away from my parents) takes us to the Rhine,

and an assault on the dreaded micro nations.

After a year of Wizz Air from Luton to the Baltics and Balkans, it’s back to Stansted, where our campervan is stared at by some four-legged creatures over the fence.

“What were those creatures ?” I ask Mrs RM now. “It was Fred and Harry. Gertrude had run away” says Mrs RM, unhelpfully.

We’d parked up against that fence the night before to give ourselves a tiny bit of sleep before a 3am rise, and for a second I thought of bounding that fence and joining Fred, Harry and Gertrude on a sprint to the nearest pub to the runway,

but the Three Horseshoes has recently closed, so we drank 19 Crimes Red out of plastic pint glasses.

Waking at 3am for a flight isn’t ideal, but early mornings are ideal for seeing the beauty of the UK coastline from the window seat. 3 points for identifying this;

I still need a new GBG entry there, if it helps.

So far in June I’ve managed more new countries that Beer Guide entries The first of those was my 3rd country by 8am, as Ryanair lands in France 1:15 after leaving Stansted (but fear not) but safety is just around the corner.

If you walk past this games area you’re in the right country,

and no, I don’t think “Spit” is anything to do with that latest US craze.

Yes, Basel airport basically straddles French, German and Swiss borders. How I’d evaded Switzerland for 59 years is a mystery. Mrs RM went while Interrailing in the 80s and is still paying back the loan on the fondue.

Arriving by airport bus at the main station, tempting as it was to jump on the first train towards Lichtenstein,

Mrs RM’s first tick, I felt the need to get to grips with Basel a bit,

Blimey, it’s eerily quiet.

But then it is 9am on Sunday in a completely pedestrianised town without even delivery vans and taxis to break the spell.

I’m entranced by the art,

Mrs RM just wants to find somewhere with Wi-Fi, with Switzerland not part of international data roaming (something to do with dastardly neutrality, I bet).

The first cafe open charges us £4.20 per coffee but fails to deliver internet connection, and we long for Bulgaria and Albania again.

But Basel is charming, awash with colour, and somewhere near this waterfall Mrs RM logs in to store WiFi, and all is well with the world again, as she books the train tickets towards Vaduz.

What did we do before the internet ?