Adventures of Humphrey

September 10, 2025

**My Big Adventure – Day 12: Grindelwald to Colmar**

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I woke the hoomans bright and early at **6:30am**. They groaned, but up they got. Honestly, they should thank me—I’m basically their alarm clock, only cuter. Packing began, and as usual, I supervised to make sure no essential items (like *my toys*) were forgotten.

First stop: our bakery in Grindelwald. I handled pest control duties (flies, my eternal nemesis), but alas, no trophies this morning. So I curled up on my blanket like an angel and people-watched while the hoomans stuffed themselves with pastries.

Then Dad said the words: *“Long drive ahead, to France.”* Perfect.

This pup needed some serious shut-eye. Adventuring is exhausting, you know. Once the car finally escaped the twisty mountain roads, I was out cold.

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From Cool Alps to Roasty France

I woke up when the car slowed to a crawl—apparently roadworks are a thing everywhere, not just at home. Boring. Eventually we stopped to charge the car and stretch our legs.

That’s when the heat slapped me in the face. Gone were the crisp Swiss mountain breezes. Instead—bam—roasty toasty France. It even smelled different. And then I spotted little scuttling critters with long tails—super fast, impossible to catch. Dad said they were

lizards. I call them unfair.

The hoomans grabbed sandwiches at a supermarket (none for me, naturally) and we carried on to Colmar.

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First Impressions of Colmar

The hoomans gasped about how “pretty” it was. I thought: hot, crowded, too many humans. But I’ll admit, there were plenty of friendly doggos to sniff, including some *very* big ones (horses again, why do these things keep following me?).

We stopped at an ice cream café. Dad got another ice cream—still no sharing. I flopped beside a massive fake ice cream statue, sighing

*bonjour* to every dog that passed.

Then… the best news ever. Our new digs had **a sofa**. A real, glorious, soft, stretchy sofa. Once Mum put the covers on, I launched myself onto it like a champion. Heaven! Finally, proper comfort after days of hard floors and stingy furniture rules.

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Evening Shenanigans

Of course, just as I’d made myself comfy, the hoomans announced it was time to head out for dinner. Typical. They tucked into a traditional Alsace meal while I plotted pigeon hunts from under the table. No luck—Dad had me anchored like a ship.

Then Dad switched into “tour guide mode” again. *Yawn.* We walked around looking at colourful buildings (apparently “famous,” but honestly not a single dog park in sight). At one fountain, Dad tried to push me in “for a laugh.” Not funny. I barked my opinion very clearly—tourists stared, but someone had to stand up for dog dignity.

They dragged me to yet another café for drinks. At this point I was beyond done. So I climbed onto Dad’s lap to make my message crystal clear: “Take me back to my sofa.” Sleeping on cobblestones like some street dog? Not happening.

Finally, they relented. Back at the apartment, I collapsed onto the sofa and fell into the deepest, happiest sleep of the trip.

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Best & Worst Bits

**Best Part:** Claiming the sofa as my rightful throne.
**Worst Part:** Dad trying to push me in the fountain. Rude.

Tomorrow *must* involve a dog park. Surely the hoomans won’t let me down… right?