Yverdon is a typical Swiss town. Cobbled roadways run through its centre, there’s a church with spires, a town hall with an intricately decorated clock that competes with the church bells every quarter of an hour for air space and there is of course your standard medieval castle.
Day two in Yverdon was about finding Pete and me a French school. Our first port of call was Migros. Migros is Switzerland’s favourite child, loved and adored by everyone, so much so that its ego is completely out of control.
I didn’t want to leave the chalet in Gryon. I could have quiet easily spent the next six months there wandering along the snow covered paths to the shops, dropping our kids off at a local village school (except Jack and Noah who would have had to go up and down the slippery sharp bends of the mountain in a bus four times a day, but they would have coped, well I would have anyway). I would have liked to have stayed and watched the mountains slowly turn green as spring set in and the flowers uncurled their petals to the sun.
