This child has always climbed everything she could. It should have come as no surprise when she wanted to join a climbing gym last year.

After an afternoon of taking in art at the Zurich Kunsthaus, she was literally ready to climb the walls. This one was outside a very expensive-looking gated estate with sculpture of its own sprinkled around the property. We didn’t know that when she began climbing. Luckily no one seemed to mind, or notice.

Five and a half hours is a long trip, but trains are a great way to travel.

Seriously, though, we both really enjoyed the Kunsthaus. But wait, you may be asking, how did we get to Zurich? Via a long train ride from Salzburg on Thursday. It was a four-country trip, passing through Germany, then Austria again, and even Liechtenstein (don’t blink or you’ll miss it) before we entered Switzerland and began to travel along the south shores of some long, beautiful lakes, the last of which was Lake Zurich. Borders are strange.

So here we are in Winterthur, a charming small city a little northeast of Zurich. Our friend Mike is exactly like we expected him to be, except more terrific. It has been just great hanging out with him and getting to know his wife Susan, who is also terrific. Munchkin chatters away in German with them, with the result that to my admittedly ignorant ear, her German sounds about five times as good as it was a week ago.

Today Susan, their adorable dogs, Joy, and I took the train to a small town they like, while Mike and Munchkin biked there. We all met up at a cafe and explored the village. One of the great things about Europe is the age of things. At least one building in this town was over 900 years old. This barn is probably older than our nation:

The town was surrounded by fields of wildflowers that would make an Impressionist rush to set up an easel. My camera and I being no Monet, I just documented the warm welcome we got from these siblings of California poppies.

Then Mike and the dogs left for a volunteer gig (they are both trained as therapy dogs, and he and the enormous Saint Bernard frequently visit a psychiatric clinic), while the other three of us went on to the second destination of the day. I did not realize until we bought our train tickets that when Sue and Mike spoke of our taking in a waterfall, they weren’t talking about a walk in the woods leading to a sweet little waterfall, but the Rheinfall.

First look at the mighty Rhine

I am going to disloyally avow that it is more my kind of waterfall than Niagara Falls. Niagara is spectacular, and I have enjoyed it enough to go back three or four times. But the Rhine, rather than falling over a cliff in one great cascade, rushes down over the rocks just like the many mountain streams I’ve loved do, except that it’s frickin’ huge. The spot is set up well as a tourist site, with the path leading to several encounters that are closer and closer to the falls, until you’re on a platform right out over the torrent.

Photos can’t convey the stunning sound, but videos come close.