Of Travels Day 1
August 19 JFK-GVA
And so the epic journey of the shewannabecool ladies began with the shortest and least restful overnight flight I have ever taken. Yes, red-eye flights have earned their moniker for a reason but mine was particularly bleary-eyed due to the fact that the young girl sitting in front of me was so excited to arrive in Geneva that she cracked her window shade about 4 hours into the 7 hour flight, which would have been fine except that we must have crossed over a dateline and it was already dawn wherever we were and only about 1:30 am by my clock. Our arrival was swift and painless, no customs and a cursory glance at our navy passports and we were literally out on the clean clean streets in less than fifteen minutes. The first thing you notice when you get there is that crisp mountain air - feels like that first gulp of ice cold water after running a 5k. It was almost shocking to my second hand smoke and smog accustomed lungs. You get used to it quick though - the sky was clear and without a single cloud and as we drove to sister's apartment you could see the rolling green alps in the distance. Oh, the hills were alive!
Sister's apartment was quite small - a studio walk up with a fold-up bed, a small desk and what she called a kichenette but was really a sink and a mini fridge. Even so, I gazed longingly at the standard issue white cotton pillows as we dropped our bags, which ended up taking up all leg room in her apartment. In an effort to beat the beast of jet-lag we headed out for a walking tour of Geneva proper. A feat that ended up taking only a few dazed hours.
We lunched in Old Town, the part of Geneva that is still cobblestones and boutiquey with little cafes and shops tucked around corners and shady nooks. I wanted to try something quintessentially Swiss and consulted with sister who had been living in Geneve for the past month being a do-gooder intern. According to her, go with anything cheesy or meaty. So right then and there I decided to abandon my healthy ways - at least for the next 14 days. So I sampled a Swiss treat, Raclette which is basically melted cheese accompanied by boiled potatoes, pickled cornichon and onion and cracked black pepper. Odd sounding, yes but quite yummy actually. Apparently the Swiss are excellent potato boilers - perfectly al dente, not at all mushy. Also had a glass of white wine - another sister recommendation. Apparently everyone, simply everyone, in Geneve has wine at lunch. Of course this left mum a bit red faced and tipsy but I think it was a good warm-up for later in the evening. On a side note, this resto was on the famous side - having fed Mr. Clinton and entourage himself. So proud of this feat, and the letter of thanks from El Presidente that they had the letter embossed and plaqued in bronze in the doorway. I think if it had been a letter from GWB we might have by-passed the establishment altogether.
The Lake. Ah,the lake. It's the most beautiful crystal clear water you have ever seen - you can stand on a bridge over the water and look straight down and see the moss and grass waving lazily on the lake floor. I was completely and utterly stupefied by this. I've never even seen a swimming pool this clean let alone the one of the largest lakes in Europe.
When they had their heatwave this summer, sister pointed out a long jetty where Genevans would go after work for a swim in the lake and a gelato. From the jetty (from anywhere around the lake really) you could see the giant water fountain they call Le Jet D'Eau which basically looks like someone is constantly having a champagne celebration under the water. Quite idyllic really.
By 4:00, mum and I were about ready to collapse which required some serious rallying efforts on the part of sister who decided to pull out her ace earlier than she had planned. This ace would be the eponymous department store Globus and it's fantastic Dean & Deluca-esque basement food market. For those of you that don't know me and the women of my family - nothing is more reviving than the opportunity to eat or to shop. The opportunity to do both concurrently is reserved for severe instances. This got us to about 6:30 which was a respectable time to head over to sister's favorite watering hole- Lord Nelson Pub at Place Du Molard and open piazza-ish square where the restaurants set up tables and tents outside for al fresco dining and ... drinking. Lord Nelson Pub had become sister's favorite haunt because of one very alcoholic fact - beer could be ordered by the meter. I kid you not. I really did flirt with the idea of splitting a meter of beer with her but decided to try to kill myself later on in the trip instead. Mum however had undertaken her own challenge. As you can see the night ended shortly after this:
And so the epic journey of the shewannabecool ladies began with the shortest and least restful overnight flight I have ever taken. Yes, red-eye flights have earned their moniker for a reason but mine was particularly bleary-eyed due to the fact that the young girl sitting in front of me was so excited to arrive in Geneva that she cracked her window shade about 4 hours into the 7 hour flight, which would have been fine except that we must have crossed over a dateline and it was already dawn wherever we were and only about 1:30 am by my clock. Our arrival was swift and painless, no customs and a cursory glance at our navy passports and we were literally out on the clean clean streets in less than fifteen minutes. The first thing you notice when you get there is that crisp mountain air - feels like that first gulp of ice cold water after running a 5k. It was almost shocking to my second hand smoke and smog accustomed lungs. You get used to it quick though - the sky was clear and without a single cloud and as we drove to sister's apartment you could see the rolling green alps in the distance. Oh, the hills were alive!
Sister's apartment was quite small - a studio walk up with a fold-up bed, a small desk and what she called a kichenette but was really a sink and a mini fridge. Even so, I gazed longingly at the standard issue white cotton pillows as we dropped our bags, which ended up taking up all leg room in her apartment. In an effort to beat the beast of jet-lag we headed out for a walking tour of Geneva proper. A feat that ended up taking only a few dazed hours.
We lunched in Old Town, the part of Geneva that is still cobblestones and boutiquey with little cafes and shops tucked around corners and shady nooks. I wanted to try something quintessentially Swiss and consulted with sister who had been living in Geneve for the past month being a do-gooder intern. According to her, go with anything cheesy or meaty. So right then and there I decided to abandon my healthy ways - at least for the next 14 days. So I sampled a Swiss treat, Raclette which is basically melted cheese accompanied by boiled potatoes, pickled cornichon and onion and cracked black pepper. Odd sounding, yes but quite yummy actually. Apparently the Swiss are excellent potato boilers - perfectly al dente, not at all mushy. Also had a glass of white wine - another sister recommendation. Apparently everyone, simply everyone, in Geneve has wine at lunch. Of course this left mum a bit red faced and tipsy but I think it was a good warm-up for later in the evening. On a side note, this resto was on the famous side - having fed Mr. Clinton and entourage himself. So proud of this feat, and the letter of thanks from El Presidente that they had the letter embossed and plaqued in bronze in the doorway. I think if it had been a letter from GWB we might have by-passed the establishment altogether.
The Lake. Ah,the lake. It's the most beautiful crystal clear water you have ever seen - you can stand on a bridge over the water and look straight down and see the moss and grass waving lazily on the lake floor. I was completely and utterly stupefied by this. I've never even seen a swimming pool this clean let alone the one of the largest lakes in Europe.
When they had their heatwave this summer, sister pointed out a long jetty where Genevans would go after work for a swim in the lake and a gelato. From the jetty (from anywhere around the lake really) you could see the giant water fountain they call Le Jet D'Eau which basically looks like someone is constantly having a champagne celebration under the water. Quite idyllic really.
By 4:00, mum and I were about ready to collapse which required some serious rallying efforts on the part of sister who decided to pull out her ace earlier than she had planned. This ace would be the eponymous department store Globus and it's fantastic Dean & Deluca-esque basement food market. For those of you that don't know me and the women of my family - nothing is more reviving than the opportunity to eat or to shop. The opportunity to do both concurrently is reserved for severe instances. This got us to about 6:30 which was a respectable time to head over to sister's favorite watering hole- Lord Nelson Pub at Place Du Molard and open piazza-ish square where the restaurants set up tables and tents outside for al fresco dining and ... drinking. Lord Nelson Pub had become sister's favorite haunt because of one very alcoholic fact - beer could be ordered by the meter. I kid you not. I really did flirt with the idea of splitting a meter of beer with her but decided to try to kill myself later on in the trip instead. Mum however had undertaken her own challenge. As you can see the night ended shortly after this:
posted by shewannabecool at 9:41 AM
1 Comments:
That photo of your mother is fantastic!
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