Ilanz to Chur
Hills, Thrills and Spills
There’s one thing I don’t like about Ilanz. It’s a pretty enough city, with a small and quiet (on a Thursday night) old town and a river that runs through. But there are two damn clocks that, 24 hours a day, chime not only the hour but every bloody quarter hour. It’s quaint and cute during the daytime, but at night … give me the tools and I will dismantle the bloody things in the best, most efficient way I can! Suffice to say, I heard many hours and quarter hours during the course of the night, even after I shut the room windows, choosing stuffiness over loudness.
The last thing I hear as we ride away from Ilanz are the damn clocks striking eleven. That’s the end of it, because by the next quarter, half, hour, we are well on our way climbing up to Versam.
…
