I'm not so naive, of course, to think that this is it, that all the misery is over and that the rest of our lives are to consist of skipping through the fields of Glarus, chasing cow patties and drinking rivella.

I can assure you that there is.

It comes in a small green conical container...

Very true.

Here's my story: I moved to Switzerland nearly six years ago, having given up a wonderful job, sold my house, put my furniture in a shipping container and bought my flight tickets to come and join my lovely Swiss fiancee to begin a life of Alpine delight with a bright future of babies and cheese and jass ahead of me. Unfortunately, while I was busy giving up my job, selling my house, putting my furniture in a shipping container and buying flight tickets, she was busy making sweet love with some other chap. She dumped me seven days before I was due to arrive, but I came anyway, not having anything left in England to stay for.

The first couple of years were not entirely pleasant. I was persuaded to stay beyond my trial period at work by the promise of promotion, a poisoned chalice which led, two years later, to burnout and a determination not to be such a sad git any more. I was living in Switzerland, and was going to have to learn to like it.

I pinned a manifesto to my kitchen cupboard, where I listed the things I wanted to achieve in the coming months: learn German... get a new job... get a social life outside work... there were several items on the list, but none of them said "get a girlfriend". That was quite deliberate, even though, obviously, I rather wanted one.

My quest for a social life led me to Swissfriends which, despite being a dating website (its name is very misleading), rewarded me with some very good platonic friends and, later, friends of friends. Then I joined an online forum for English-speaking expats, and things really took off... I went to events, met some really sound people, arranged a trip to the Luzern fasnacht, was disappointed to see only one person turn up, was delighted over the subsequent months to discover that that one person was destined to be my wife, and the rest is history.

I wish to stress again: I wasn't actively looking for a girlfriend, although I may possibly have leapt at a couple of opportunities that might have passed my way . I was desperately lonely, starved of love and I pined for someone to hold and spend my evenings with. But my biggest priority was, to put it bluntly, to get a life.

Once you get one of those, everything else is sure to fall into place sooner or later, even if you do take a couple of tumbles on the way.

I'm not so naive, of course, to think that this is it, that all the misery is over and that the rest of our lives are to consist of skipping through the fields of Glarus, chasing butterflies and drinking lemonade. But what we have now is more than I could ever have hoped for when I pinned that manifesto to my kitchen cupboard all those years ago.

If it all ends tomorrow, then I shall be grateful, at least, for that.

Four pages of tosh and twaddle, most of which I've not read.