Switzerland, or at least the tiny corner of it that we visited, remains lovely. I don't think I could ever get bored of looking at mountains; although I can't help wondering what it would be like to live with the snowy peaks of Mont Fort or Mont Blanc as a permanent backdrop to my daily screen-staring admin-filled life, and whether I'd remember to look up from time to time, and whether (the grass always being greener on the other side of the mountain) I'd yearn instead for the vast expanses of fenland flatness.
At night, in the valley, you can see the towns and villages spread out across the dark mountainsides in little clusters, complex constellations of street-lamps. And when you look at the sky you can see all the stars. I thought my eyes were just unusually blurry until Owen pointed out that what I was seeing was the Milky Way. (You can imagine I made a chocolate-related joke here, if you like.)
I reckon I've probably recharged my sense of the sublime enough to cope with another year in Cambridge.