SARDONIC GEORGE IN TRANSIT: SWITZERLAND IN THE REARVIEW, OSLO AHEAD

Yes, that is my yellow HELO in the background.

And before the carbon-police and rental-shamers sharpen their claws: no, I don’t lease it out, yes, I offset every mile (what conscience-driven traveler wouldn’t?), and naturally, my humans ride gratis. It’s the least I can do for the creatures who carry my luggage and open my wine.

Sardonic George in Interlaken

Now, where was I? Ah yes—Switzerland.

Add the Swiss Confederation to your list, dear readers. Go ahead. I’ll wait. While I have a soft spot for Zurich’s menswear (do let me know what you think of my new red jumper—matches the fur, no?), and Geneva for, well, the lake—it’s the Alps that truly won my cold, plush heart.

Sardonic George Red Jumper in the Swiss Alps

And by Alps, I mean Interlaken: The Swiss Disneyland, minus the lines, plus the vertigo.Hiking? Stunning. Swimming? Refreshing. Ziplining? Existential. Just remember to pack your adrenaline and your wallet—this place extracts cash faster than a one-armed bandit in a rigged casino.

Now, apart from the “incident” at the terminal (see my soul-stirring exposé: SARDONIC GEORGE IN SWITZERLAND: WHERE HUMANITY WENT TO DIE (WITH VIEWS) the locals were as delightful as alpine spring water—and far more useful.

If you’ve traveled as extensively as I have—and statistically, you haven’t—then Zurich and Geneva may not top your bucket list. These are what seasoned nomads call “double-clickers”: destinations you only find after diving a few tabs deeper in your travel planner. But if you’ve already conquered the classics, as I clearly have, then by all means: sip, strut, and swim your way through both.

That said, Interlaken—in winter or summer—is mandatory. Just beware the "standing ankle-deep in human waste when the trains fail you" moment. Sorry. Had to say it. Still healing.

Anyway, Oslo awaits. Cooler air, cleaner streets, and the perfect stage for this red jumper.

Sardonic George