A fine afternoon. Stop at a chestnut roaster in Davos, buy a bag scooped from his brazier and beg a second little bag with a cuff for the shells. Then, bundled up and arm and arm, stroll widdershins around the lake nibbling the spoils and being nibbled back by the cold, cold air. In step with gentle talk, chuckles, good memories. One stop for the warm fire and rich red wine of the half-way inn. January life can be better?