Geneva
After three flights and lots of expectations about the following
week, Geneva appears in the far distance - green, neat and
welcoming. The memories of the deep Norwegian snow disappear the
minute we get out of the airport. The evening is warm and the
people are in a hurry. It is April in Geneva. The first thing my
Swiss friend, Fabian, wants to show me late at night is an
English pub with good beer. Much later we are still sitting
there with some unknown English and German guys, drinking and
talking nonsense. That's the good thing about Geneva, says one
of the Brits, it makes you feel at home. The Germans do not seem
to agree, however, and a big blonde guy objects: That's the
thing about home - you never want to stay there but you always
want to come back. Too much beer, I'm thinking, and the evening
goes on. To make it clear from the beginning - I am not a
tourist in Geneva. Every time I go to a place I end up in the
mainstream tourist paths polished by the steps of thousands
before me. Not this time - I am here to attend the conference
and to do some shopping. The conference goes well, the shopping,
too. The shops are cheaper than expected and there are fancy
brands I have not seen before. The first thing I notice about
the streets are not the nice buildings but the people. All are
well dressed - from rich Arabs which you meet in every shop, to
young gorgeous men in suits. Fabian explains the guys in suits
work in banks. That young? Sure! The banks are everywhere -
solid buildings with respectable names. Fabian's father works in
a bank too. With only four clients, his father's bank is one of
the smallest. The conference is about to end and a fellow
linguist insists on showing me some special Genevan chocolate.
We go to a small shop in the old part of the city and enjoy the
soft Genevan chocolate in the shadows of the big cathedral. Do
you know a special attraction we can visit in the afternoon, he
asks. And our tour begins. First we go on a boat trip. The lake
is huge, the water fountain really tall, there are lots of
families on expensive boats just basking in the sun. We see lots
of nice houses, or rather palaces. The brochure reads: the
chalet on the right was the Residence of Lenin in 1914 while he
was preparing the Russian revolution. Small and dull at first
sight, the house suddenly becomes somewhat mysterious and cozy.
Here's Mont-Blanc, the White House Napoleon gave to Josephine,
the UN building... We are both impressed. After the boat trip,
we make a quick tour around the city. We see the Russian church,
the Mandarin Oriental Hotel, the flower clock, an Egyptian
exposition in the Art and History Museum, where I buy I lovely
Indian postcard; we rest in few cafes in the street, see some
capoeira dancers on a small square and really get an
international feeling about the city. Tourists or not, I don't
seem to care anymore, and the evening ends in a small restaurant
where we can taste the famous fondue. More friends join and the
feast begins. Our host is a lovely old lady who only speaks
French, jokes all the time and smiles at us motherly. The meal
is really delicious and the old lady makes sure we always have
full glasses of white wine. No water, no water, she gestures
vividly and then jokes again about something most of us do not
understand. The place itself has a bit of oriental touch in blue
and white. A bit drunk from the wine and the dish itself we
can't refuse the dessert. The cherries in alcohol we try at the
end are irresistible. We all get kisses and hugs before we
plunge into the warm evening. A year after, I still remember
the soft breeze in the lit evening streets, the crowded bars,
nice shops with beautiful women, the soft chocolate I had in the
old town, and the nostalgic chateaus on the lakeside. After all,
the German was right - Geneva is a place you definitely want to
come back to. This is thanks to courtesy of Copenhagen Hotels:
http://www.europe-cities.com/hotels-copenhagen.aspx