Mr Foggs face summed up our accomodation tonight (to which I had carefully committed us for 2 nights). The Grunberg Haus did feature on Trip Advisor but had some really mixed reviews so I booked it.

Ahem, so a very short drive up a woodland track we arrived at the front of an aged mountain shack ( oh sorry, Swiss copy chalet) which leans to one side. On entry we were warmly greeted by the owner and entered a very dark and dim wooded building. In it’s day the property must have been wonderful but it’s a little aged now. The closest description would be the Gingerbread house out of the nursery tales.

Downstairs has it’s very own pub ( we got all excited until the owner said “serving non alcoholic cider” Non-alcoholic!!!)

Upstairs we are in the Chris suite, top of the creaky house up teeny stairs and very low overhangs, with our own private veranda into the trees and a gas fire. It’s certainly charming but I confess we have been spoilt so far and for the price I’d take the Gale River Motel any day.

Still, we have two nights in this old house, spooky. Watch out for the spiders. Picture to follow!!!

What added to the ambience of the place was coming out the front of the building to find a young buck toothed deformed kid sat there smiling gently to himself with a banjo in hand, oooh squeel liddle piggy(this is the actual boy taken on my phone), squeel. Avoid unless you can fire a bow and arrow or prefer to crawl semi naked on your hands and knees.