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I write...type...from Lausanne, Switzerland. My impression of Switzerland so far is Hotels & Hills. Lots of hills. And cobblestones. My thighs have never looked better!

Spent seven nights in Paris all up, and am very glad I did so, even though it rained most of the time. One of the best things about Paris is that there's something different to do everyday, even if you don't want to do touristy things. And the hot chocolate was fantastic. My favourite things were probably the gardens of Versaille and the Catacombs. Will go back to Paris, once I have increased my knowledge of the language from 'bonjour!'.

Yesterday I caught the train from Gare d'Lyon to Geneve, where I met breifly with my father, who appears to be in good shape (round is a shape, he claims). I dumped my sack with him, before getting on another train to Lausanne. Once in Lausanne I realised I didn't quite know where the place I was staying was, so I rang them. Directions were given to me in a jaunty Swiss accent 'follow ze road to ze sex cinema, then go right!' I did so, and found the lovely Lausanne Guesthouse, which is run by a woman who looks like my Aunty Debbie (if she was given lots of drugs.) The ubiquitous drunk Australian offered me a beer, and the night went from there. This morning I walked up a hill to a boulangerie, bought breakfast (europe is fantastic. I am living on chocolate eclairs) and a few newspapers as I had finished 'The Favourite Game' by Leonard Cohen and all my other books are in Geneva. Wandered around, got the bus to Ouchy, which is nice and water resort-y. Wandered back, napped. Tottered up another massive hill to Collection d'Art Brut, which is one of the best art galleries I have ever been too. It contains works by prisoners, mentally ill and artistically mad. All the works are incredibly detailed and like nothing I have ever seen before - no rules are followed, no conventions. It's brilliant. Go there before you die.

Tomorrow I totter back to Geneve, in order to annoy my father for few days. After that, I'm not sure. My Icelandic Invasion is a little over two weeks from commencing, but I have to admit I'm getting ready to come home - although that probably means I'll have to do something about university and joining the real world........