Swiss level crossing

My parents, my three brothers and I had arrived at a camping site in the small town of Visp, near Brig in Switzerland sometime in the mid 1960s. As an avid trainspotter, my eldest brother decided that the four of us should walk over to the nearest level crossing out on the valley floor to see some trains going by. We'd just crossed the line when the warning siren sounded and the barriers came down. There was no-one else about but, as we waited, a lady and gentleman walked up to the barrier and stopped. Within a second or two of hearing us chatting, the gentleman turned to my eldest brother and said in Welsh 'You speak Welsh?' 'Yes', replied my brother ... There followed the usual Welsh uestions: 'Where are you from?' 'What does your father do?' etc. It transpired that he, a Mr Bartholomew, had been the Latin teacher in at the school, some miles north of Bridgend, where my father had taught Welsh several years previously. They'd known each other well and a happy reunion followed. He and his wife had been intrepid travellers for many years but I can't now remember how they came to be walking down the road to a fairly remote level crossing in Switzerland ...