You know where I'm glad that I'm not spending Halloween?
Oh I know, I know. On Wednesday I brought up cows again, and now I'm talking about Adelboden again. But listen people (all five of you who possibly read this blog) I can't help it if these are two of the most important topics known to mankind.
Ask anyone who sits on the Board Of The World That Oversees Important Topics. They just love reading about cows and Adelboden.
So today, it's back to Adelboden and it's to discuss with you the fact that I'm glad I'm not spending Halloween there. Never mind that the Swiss don't in fact celebrate Halloween, the issue is that certain nights of the year are prime witching hours, and whether or not your country chooses to recognize this witching hour is beside the point.
There is a haunted...shed...in Adelboden. I've seen it with my own eyes. And even though it was a sunny afternoon in the middle of August, when Dan and I walked past that shed, something really weird happened.
We entered some sort of twilight zone, and the world become sepia tinged. It was so bizarre. One minute we were walking along under a bright blue sky, and the next....sepia.
But not as spooky as this shed! This ramshackle, crumbling, shed that had a warning nailed over its door.
This warning chilled my blood. This is clearly a message to the living that bucking and frolicking around in alpine meadows is not to be tolerated by the ghouls that call this haunted shed, home. This poor mountain sheep has had its stumped head exposed to the harsh winters and sepia summers for years, always with the message: Don't have fun in the alps. Don't have fun in the alps. They will find you. They will find you.
But me, I approached anyhow. I would not let the mournful warning of the taxidermied mountain sheep deter me from exploring this sepia coloured haunted shed.
Dan called back a warning to me that went something along the lines of: Have you ever seen 'Saw'?
And no, he wasn't asking me if I'd ever seen a see-saw. It was if I'd ever seen Saw: the movie. The movie where everyone gets chainsawed to bits, and you leave the theatre needing to pop a Valium to try and forget everything you just saw.
I forged ahead anyhow. I am that idiot, from those movies.
I'll just go down into the basement guys, alone, by myself, carrying this spatula for protection, to investigate that chainsaw noise I heard coming from that room that has no windows. I'll be right back.
But I was stopped short. There was a hulking and fearsome creature guarding the entrance to this shed, and this is when I realized I was dealing with the most psychotically twisted ghouls of all time.
Only blood thirsty killers use a fat spider to guard their lair.
But it wasn't until I turned my attention to the window and door frame that I really felt the skeleton's fingers dragging their pointed tips up and down my spine.
The window ledge is dirty and the door frame has cobwebs in it!
We were clearly not dealing with Swiss ghosts! I'm convinced that Swiss ghosts would not let their homes get so filthy. They want to be scary, not slothful.
I ran and ran until my sepia world turned back to colour, and I thanked my lucky stars I made it out of their alive.
I am so glad that on Sunday, All Hallows Eve, I won't be there to hear the stumpy head of the mountain sheep 'baa' his desperate cry, and to see the cold and dirty hands of the ghoul mess up my window ledges and add cobwebs to my doors.