I may have made a few nods towards Grecian things in earlier posts. Here’s another glance in that direction…..hubris.

It comes from the Ancient Greek word ὕβρις (húbris), and refers to “pride and insolence.” In ancient times, hubris was a super serious crime – and most definitely a “no-no” for people to show. Anyone who displayed hubris – overconfidence or pride – was considered to have transgressed against the gods. And those ancient gods didn’t much like anyone transgressing against them; no, sir, they did not take that shit at all lightly.

Ever heard of Icarus? Well, it’s a longish tale but I shall try to be brief. Icarus and his father, Daedalus, had gone and upset their king, King Minos. Daedalus was a master craftsman and designed the fiendishly impenetrable labyrinth which housed the ferocious minotaur, a half-man half-bull creature (remember the minotaur?) for said king. Now, King Minos suspected that Icarus and Daedalus helped the hero Theseus navigate his labyrinth, kill the beast and then make his escape. Still with me? Good. Our Ancient Greek dad-lad duo were thus imprisoned in a high tower on the island of Minos (we modern-day folk know it as Crete.)

The brilliant Dad-alus (I’ll allow you a chuckle) used his creativity to hatch their escape from Minos. He constructed wings out of stuff he found in their cell; threads from blankets, leather sandal straps and birds’ feathers. In his very best Ancient World A-Team style, Daedalus bound this smorgasbord of assorted tat together using beeswax. I can only presume Ancient Greek cells came with their own ensuite beehives. (I suspect our modern-day Swiss accommodation doesn’t.)

Before escaping, Daedalus warned his son of two things.

1) Don’t fly too low. Spray from the sea will soak the feathers and wet wings will be too heavy to flap.

2) Don’t fly too close to the sun. Sun = heat. Heat + beeswax = melty. Melty = buggered wings.

JUST TWO THINGS TO REMEMBER!

All was going well with the DadLad Flight To Freedom. Until, Icarus got too giddy at his ability to fly like a bird and forgot his father’s words. Icarus soared ever higher, up into the sky, his father calling out to him, pleading with his son to come down. But Icarus, buoyed with his flappy skills and bursting with overconfidence got, well, too overconfident.

Until the inevitable hot-melty-wax time. Icarus plummeted into the wine-dark sea and drowned. (I’m not sure the myth tells of how Daedalus fared. I hope he escaped safely and enjoyed a long-life on a warm Mediterranean beach inventing more cool stuff.)

It is because of Icarus we get the idiom “don’t fly too close to the sun”.

So, how does all this hubris malarkey connect with the DadLadTour Euro25? That’s a very good question. How do they connect? I’ve forgotten where I was heading when I began typing this.

Yes, here we go…How’s your 2025 coming along so far? I hope you are flying high while still heeding the warnings of the oh-so-wise Daedalus.

Mine has started a tad disappointingly. If I am being honest, it’s been a little* bit shit. After the excitement of mid-December, I – like Icarus – have been brought down with a resounding thump.

I am that player who, after scoring a late winner (me – getting tickets to the Euros), finds himself stupidly sent-off for a second yellow card having waving his shirt around his head in post-goal joy (me – gleefully blogging about it). Consequently,  the gastric gods handed me a four-day ban-ishment to the bedroom and bathroom. There were a lot of “flights” taking off in that bathroom. One or two went north but hundreds were heading in a southerly direction. Quite possibly bound for Crete.

*Actually, rather a lot.

Hubris, heh? What a way to start the New Year? Mind you, I’ll be match fit again in no time and I’m sure to come back a pound or two lighter.

Today, though, I am still recovering at home. Also, I am unable to safely drive my van after the “Big Freeze of 2025” (Is anyone calling it that? Shall we? Yeah, let’s).  I love my van – it’s awesome, ask anyone – but it is simply dreadful in snow and ice. Auto box, front wheel drive, low profile tyres – it’s a nightmare to handle. Add to these concerns a recent development just after Christmas when the steering wheel began suddenly to shake. The van had been serviced and MOT’d in the weeks leading to Christmas and it was suggested that the van needed two new tyres and the tracking attending to in the coming months. We immediately booked the van in, but my garage couldn’t fit this work in until January 13^th. Consequently, van health and my health combined, I’d rather not risk driving in these conditions.

So, with the new working year only three days old, I’m already around a week-and-a-half behind schedule. Additionally, most of my January work is for family, so no income.

It is while looking out at my redundant, ice covered van and feeling as Icarus might have watching The Aegean rush closer, that my spirits are lifted by a text from the Lad-In-Law.

“The hotel in Bern has offered us a breakfast box to go on our last morning 😀🇨🇭”

This is excellent news. The budget for our Swiss Adventure is going to be modest and, of the three hotels we have booked, only one includes breakfast. So far we have flights, match tickets and rooms booked and, costs being what they appear to be in Switzerland, we may not be eating while on our little trip – we may have to eat our bodyweight at Manchester T2 and hope we last from the Wednesday until Saturday. Liam had previously discovered that a twelve-inch sandwich meal (you can guess which chain) in Switzerland can cost as much as 23.80 CHF. That’s over twenty-one quid! For a foot-long – 30cm Euro style – sarnie and a fizzy drink!

Guess how much the train is from Bern to Geneva airport? The two-hour, eighty-mile journey – 130km in Euro speak –  will set you back just £37.00. That’s a little shy of 42.00 CHF. The trains in Switzerland are an absolute bargain compared to the cost of a foot-long Poulet façon rôtisserie from Subway. At that price, it had better be the best twelve-inches of roast chicken known to mankind.

The only meal we had so far included in our itinerary was our Bern hotel breakfast. Annoyingly, we would have to miss this as they start serving breakfast after the check-out time Liam and I have planned to catch the 0534 train to Geneva for our return flight. (An interesting side note here…the SBB website allows for bookings for the 12^th July 2025 this coming weekend and we will be booking that early train this very Saturday.) Although, as match tickets are only 20.00 CHF and allow you FREE train travel throughout Switzerland on the match day concerned, it might be savvy to save some money that way.

But that text from the hotel! A breakfast box to go! We won’t starve as we feast on the smörgåsbord packed up by the hotel! This trip is gelling together rather nicely.

There I go again. Getting all Icarus-like. Another transgression against the gods. Hubris, no doubt, will return to darken our tale quite soon.