When I first had the idea of taking a winter road trip through the Alps, I imagined snowy walks followed by fondue in the comfort of our van, feet warmed by 25kg of auburn fluff (it was to be our Irish setter’s first encounter with snow). Waking up to snowflakes on the skylight and the freedom of being able to go wherever we wanted. What I hadn’t quite pictured was spending our first night in a car park on the outskirts of a city, sandwiched between the medieval ramparts and a graveyard.
