We woke early for an 8:30 train to Switzerland. In 2017, Alex and I planned a day trip from Lyon to Geneva, but it just didn’t happen, so I was happy to get this do-over. The ride is about two hours taking a regional train and we enjoyed another game of May I, train style. George won. Again. As soon as we disembarked, we saw a Starbucks. I know. Starbucks in Switzerland is not the best choice. We could get Frappuccinos anywhere. But do the Starbucks in the U.S. have a choice of three small pancakes instead of muffins? I don’t think so. Anyway, we caffeinated ourselves and then strolled downhill towards the harbor of Lake Geneva. It was a pretty trip, with many spots to stop and enjoy the views. One of the first treasures we found was the Brunswick Monument, which is really more of a huge mausoleum for Charles II, some duke of yesteryear. It’s striking and quite unusual, with jutting lines and geometric shapes. Even though we’d had Starbucks (and I consider that stop simply an emergency caffeine event), we sat down at a quite fashionable restaurant that overlooked old Chuck’s resting place. It served the most exquisite caprese salad, with extras like olives and pine nuts. George ate greens and berries. Mom had the most creative veggie lasagna, with pumpkin and other layers of goodness. This stop was the start of a day of leisure punctuated by small sessions of walking.
After our impromptu lunch with Charles II, we headed to the waterfront and the famous Pont du Mont-Blanc bridge. It spans the harbor in Geneva and is lined with flags representing Switzerland and Geneva (and also the Intellectual Property governing party called WIPO - who knows why). As we made or way across, the bridge bounced with the weight of the cars passing over. I’m pretty sure this was normal for this bridge, but it did give me the feeling that I was at sea, on the deck of a small yacht. Overlooking the harbor we could see the clear greenish water, perfect for snorkeling and that made us think of Jenny and Eliza, who we miss terribly already. And, we saw a cutie bird at lunch and then SWANS! Pictures for Eliza are below. They were just lovely, graceful creatures and which earned our attention for many minutes. Also, Geneva’s famous fountain in the lake, called Jet d’Eau, which shoots water into the air over 140 meters, making it one of the tallest fountains in the world. And it’s impressive. It kind of reminds me of Old Faithful at Yellowstone, but in the middle of a lake instead of in a bubbling sulfur bed (so I guess it’s pretty different, actually). Geneva’s waterfront was quite magical.
Our meander continued through a park at the edge of the water where we encountered another famous landmark, L’horloge Fleurie, which is a clock face with real flowers making up all but the hands. It’s a beauty, that clock, and the flowers change with the seasons, rotating different types of annuals. So cool. Afterwards, it was time to climb the hill into Geneva’s old town district. I’m a sucker for old town neighborhoods in European cities. They’re always cobbled and the streets are windy. Buildings are full of character often there are secret passageways or staircases. That was the case for Geneva’s old town. We climbed a street called Fontaine, which I loved because my best friend in college has same name (hey there Fountain!!). Then, we decided to get drinks at a cute little cafe, mainly because we had to pee and also rest after the hill climbing (and I didn’t have my pocket-sized Portuguese sweat towel (TM) with me either). Sipping on Fanta, Swiss style, was a great past time for a half hour or so, but eventually it was time to move on.
We had been searching for the famous St. Pierre Cathedral, and my Google Maps GPS function was giving me trouble. It kept insisting that we were to walk into a wall, between shops on the street in order to get there, and since we’re not wizards entering muggle-invisible houses in Harry Potter, it seemed quite impossible. Then, twenty or so meters from where our blue dot was pinging, I found a tiny passageway with a staircase that went up for ages. So cool. So hard for the mama with bad knees and the boy recovering from a summer of illness. But, they were both super stars and climbed the entire thing in no time. Rewards were aplenty. The view from the top overlooked most of the city (especially from the aubergine garden - aubergine in French means Eggplant. Didn’t see any eggplant in that park, but I wasn’t looking very hard either), and the cathedral itself was very deserving of its fame. It has this chapel off to the right of the entry that has some of the loveliest stained glass I’ve ever seen. And the ceilings were super ornate, crafted from three separate domes. Dang. Then the cathedral itself also didn’t disappoint, with huge pillars holding up the place and intricate glass, balconies and other lovely details all over. We lingered there, as we’d done at many other stops along our walk. I spent Swiss Francs on postcards. And took too many photos. That’s what you gotta do in a place as beautiful as St.Pierre’s.
More walking around the old town happened after that, and we discovered other interesting nuggets, like the old cannons outside the Armory. Alongside were some terrific mosaics that outlined the time of the Huguenots. The ground was covered with a stone mosaic as well. Just adjacent was a park on the edge of the old town, which overlooked much of the city. That seemed like another great place for lolling around, so we did it. So many times today that’s what we did. And it was good.
Our final stop in Geneva was the Hotel de Ville Restaurant, located, not surprisingly, right across from Geneva’s Hotel de Ville (town hall). It was a spendy spot, but also the food was worth it. George at a steak and fries. Mom had some kind of veal thing. And I, I did what the Swiss do. I had cheese fondue. It was billed (seriously, billed to the tune of $25 Francs) as a serving for one, but if one person ate the amount of cheese served to me, they’d just lie down in the street to prepare for the inevitable heart attack. Delicious hot cheese on the best of French (Swiss?) bread was the kind of yum that is rare and sacred. The level of decadence displayed by us today was slightly obscene, but we didn’t care. We Swissed it up, miss. Home we went on the 7:30 train, and May I was played again. I won this time and rode the resulting headrush all the way back to Lyon. These are the days.
Mom’s thinking about The Sound of Music
George is thinking about the sound of silence
May I on the train
This is what we looked at out the window
Charles II “gazebo” and flowers a plenty
Close up of Charles’ place
View from an expensive restaurant
Orange Swiss soda
Our lunch pal (what is this one, Eli?)
Jet d’Eau
On the bridge. Switzerland, obviously
One of our swan friends
The flower clock - time was correct!
Just some merry-go-round in the square.
This is a Swiss Franc, for those who haven’t see one (like me, for example)
This tiny passageway with the staircase
The climb
Stair warriors triumphant!
Stair warriors resting
This looks interesting
View from the Aubergine Garden
This cute old door
St. Pierre’s Cathedral
Main church
Stained glass reflection
Windows in the chapel
Armory cannon and mosaics
This one’s very cool
Street of the Hotel de Ville
Park on the edge of old town
This amazing view
Our dinner spot
Dinner table smiles and glares?? Or just George’s regular face
Cheese fondue
Swiss sun getting low
We loved Geneva
