La Suisse

An Olympic perspective

After 3 days and 2 nights I can say that Lac Leman probably beats Lake Tahoe on just about all fronts. That is much less a slight on the California/Nevada resort, than it is a statement on the ancient beauty and modern sights of the Swiss alternative.

My journey to Switzerland began Saturday morning in a fashion familiar to French travelers: delayed by striking baggage handlers. Thankfully my discount carrier, easyJet, sent me an email the night before alerting me to the change of departure location from Orly up to Charles de Gaulle. My awareness of the situation did not halt the four hour flight delay though, which was incurred by the requisite busing of the Orly passengers who did not get the 9PM email, at CDG.

Flying in Europe is a slightly less, stressful affair though on the whole, and for a four hour delay it wasn’t all too upsetting. I was able to find solace in two facts: first I could buy a cold morning beer duty free at half the cost of  a bottle of water, and in a tenth of the time it would have taken to get to the register at the cafe. Also, in comparison to the worst of my ESPN horror stories, this was nothing. I was still in the air by noon, and there was no danger of getting stranded in New Jersey. The flight itself took less than an hour and, other than almost accidentally re-entering France upon landing rather than exiting into Switzerland at the Geneva airport, went without incident.

Saturday was spent gallivanting through Geneva with two fellow Northwestern Wildcats. Our host, a self-proclaimed ‘diplo-brat’, excused herself as the two tourists went to the UN for the hour-long tour of international diplomacy. The area that houses the UN, is set up in much the same way as the Benicia Industrial Park, but is composed of the World Health Organization and International Labor Organization instead of chop shops and refineries. So our first stop was actually to the Red Cross Museum cafeteria for lunch. Sadly we didn’t have time for an non-governmental organization tour and an international governmental organization one, so we had to leave the Red Cross as something for the next Swiss trip.

The UN, is an impressive entity, but honestly the building that houses the current bureaucracy is not terribly impressive having been built in the late 60s-70s and having all of the aesthetic appeal as one usually associates with that era of decor and architecture. The older building had much more allure with a 1920s art deco style. The coolest thing about the tour was the abbreviated history of the UN given by our tour guide. His English was impeccable, thanks to having done his undergraduate work in California. Of course I then told him I went to ‘SC, and added Switzerland to the list of countries where I have encountered Trojan jealousy. Fun stuff, especially considering what happened in South Bend later that Saturday.

After the UN we caught up with our third and went down to the center of Geneva for the afternoon/evening. The Lake is the first thing anyone notices about the city, but sadly the iconic Jet d’Eau, or water jet, wasn’t firing. We would however, see it later on at a distance since the darn thing shoots 500 feet into the air.

We then went up into the old town and had chocolate cake and drinks at our hosts favorite local spot. Afterwards, we had to stop and begin what would become a running theme for the trip, which was having me try new foods that I was already predisposed against. The first challenge: nuts, in the form of roasted chestnuts. Epic fail. Of all of the things I was encouraged to try, these were by far the least appealing. I can’t even begin to explain the nature of these things. The taste and texture were so strange and disgusting, yet Christmasy, it was like eating the parts of the holidays no one likes.

After that things turned much better for yours truly as our local Genevan had planned the evening around things I had suggested, notably beer and Mexican food. First we went to what was advertised as the only microbrewery in the city. We ordered the amber and it came in a 3 liter beer bong with a personal tap. There are also 5 and 10 liter options for the more assertive drinkers out there. An absolutely delicious brew, slightly lighter than a standard amber but with a perfect mixture of hops and barley. Punctuated well, and crisply, but with not too much aftertaste and less richness, which was good for me as that is generally what I dislike about ambers.

After the beer was finished, out party meandered happily down to a Mexican restaurant with a full bar/club downstairs. For dinner I ordered the best burrito I have probably ever had in a non-burrito land. This beat any burrito I had ever had in New England or before in Europe, the reason I believe is that it was a ‘Mexican’ restaurant, and not Spanish. Oddly enough, there were at least 3 such places in Geneva and on the street in Lausanne, about an hour away I saw a couple more. This is infinitely more Mexican food, than Paris has. I suppose Switzerland’s Chicano population is just one of those idiosyncratic things, like the Somali population in Minneapolis, in any case I was more than pleased with their gastronomic offering.

After dinner we went downstairs to the club for a bit, where we had a couple Margaritas, and basked in the glow of a magnificent man in a hat and a half-pack equivalent of second-hand smoke. All in all, a very fun first evening, disproving the warnings given by my Parisian coworkers who insisted there was no fun to be found in Geneva. Maybe they just went looking in the wrong places.

I'm blocking the view

Our second day was spent on the Lake taking a boat between a quaint Swiss town on one side and an old medieval town on the French bank. Both were very nice, and very relaxing. In Yvoire on the French side of the Lake we took time to go into little artisanal shops of crystal and other knick-knacks, before having a very delightful lunch at Le Bateau Ivre – The Drunk Boat. Quick anecdote: after lunch while waiting for change that wouldn’t come one of the girls made the comment “well that was great, but it got a little awkward at the end.” To which I replied, “sounds just like sex,” this comment would be repeated several times over the next few days and appropriated to myriad different scenarios.

Sunday was low key, spent at our hosts house, where I found out that her mother knows my boss at the OECD. Quite hilarious. In addition I was able to just hang out for the evening watching the Saints / Giants game live. So great to watch a little football on a couch again. I even went to bed noticing the Raiders were not losing the game against the Eagles, which they would in fact go on to win! I will move to Geneva if that results in more Raider victories, not sure how to test this theory though, since I am quite certain they will lose this weekend thus supporting my theory.

Monday we took the train up to Lausanne to see the old town and the Olympic Garden and Museum. The IOC is located in Lausanne, about an hour up the lake from Geneva. We started our wander in Lausanne by going up to the Notre Dame Cathedral in the city centre. Built around the same time as the more famous Notre Dame in Paris, it was worth going in, even if I hadn’t been in a church before this weekend since my mother’s most recent wedding in ’04. Built between the 12th and 13th centuries, it was one of the better cages for God I have ever seen.

After the cathedral and lunch we went down the hill to the lake to see the Olympic Museum. I certainly could have spent all day in there. For a history and sports buff is there a better place to kill an afternoon? The highlight was probably seeing the old athletic equipment used by the winners. Imagine what Jesse Owens could have done with footwear that didn’t resemble modern bowling shoes. The Dream Team basketball, all of the Olympic torches, and the historic artifacts from ancient Greece combined to make a museum experience that rates high on my scale.

The conclusion to my trip though came at another museum in Lausanne, slightly more obscure: the typewriter museum. When vacationing with journalism students, there will be oddities, and this one did not disappoint. The museum was in a basement in an apartment, but housed machines from the late 1800s and up, in nearly all languages and formats. I did my best to translate from French, and apparently did a serviceable job, according to our native Genevan who abstained from translating out of embarrassment for our being late. I showed her though, by outing her hometown when the guide asked at the end. HA!

All in all, I highly recommend Switzerland, at least the French side. Next time I will have to get to the German half, perhaps Zurich.

Adieu Geneve.