There are cows. Yes, yes, I know that there are cows in other places. There are cows in Texas, as the quantity of steaks consumed can attest. There are cows in NSW. There probably aren’t that many cows in Rochester New York, except maybe one or two grazing in the overgrown old Kodak parking lot. There were some in Scotland before the wild haggises ran them out. There are probably a few competing for space with the sheep and leprechauns in Ireland. But Switzerland? Switzerland. Has. Cows. Everywhere.

Not necessarily the living, breathing kind; a lot of them inhabit souvenir gift shops everywhere from Zurich to the mountains. Many of them have an unrealistic red colour with white crosses on them. But they are everywhere.

At one restaurant in Interlaken, the waiters are dressed as cows. One restaurant review on TripAdvisor went to town on this, claiming that it trivialised Switzerland which was a great economic and financial power, etc, etc. The owner's reply was "Why so grumpy, grandpa? Our motto is that we're a fun place to eat." And I will admit that one of the highlights of the Interlaken stay was when one of the waiters from that restaurant dragged a Swiss Horn out to the roundabout and gave an impromptu concert. When I didn't have my camera, dammit.

So when you see cows, think Switzerland. Oh, and also when you see people cycling in the main cities. A lot. You see the connection here?

We had originally planned a day trip to Liechtenstein for today but had learnt our lesson about overreaching. Certainly it would have been doable, but it would have been more doable with more time. Instead we decided to just wander around Zurich doing the sightseeing thing before heading to a specialist cheese fondue restaurant that evening. It was expensive (of course, it's almost redundant to say that in Zurich) with a meal for two costing as much as a meal for four had on our last night in Milan. It was very, very good though, which is rare for Switzerland where the food is, by and large, aaah... how can I put it charitably? Hmm. I can't. Admittedly after three weeks in Italia the food anywhere is going to taste pretty ordinary.

And of course on the way back from the restaurant Zurich acquired the dubious distinction of being the first place on earth where I have been propositioned by a, um, lady of pleasure. She suggested that I come and see her from her room on the first floor of a building which had illuminated windows occupied by a couple of her colleagues.

All that was in the future, however. For the moment, we were returning to the main railway station from our circumnavigation of Zurich. And this advertising sign pretty much said it all.