Geneva 2010

Geneva 2010

Our Delta flight zoomed us from Seattle to Amsterdam, then into Geneva.

We picked up FREE transit tickets from a machine at the airport, and then boarded Bus #5 which took us to our hotel. En route bare trees lacy from a light snowfall were interspersed with Swiss chalets. My enjoyment of this winter wonderland was peppered with thoughts like: “How will we find the hotel once we leave the warm bus?” And “ Is international travel actually glamorous?”

We joined meeting participants from around the world for dinner at “Bagatelle’s”. Our main concern was staying awake despite the major JET LAG. It didn’t seem the time to sample the house specialty, beef tartar, although several people did.

Our Hotel Les Nations is small and full of Swiss art. We are in a neighborhood full of United Nations -related buildings. Each floor of the hotel has a display: clocks, door -knockers, shoe and hat lasts, room keys. A mural decorates the building’s back, depicting villagers moving their cattle to higher land. Some nice paintings keep us company in the dining room. We each received a transit pass good for the week. I’m tempted to take the yellow ferry on Lac Leman if it warms up a bit. How I love to sail on this beautiful lake.

For my first day’s adventure, I planned to see the Giacometti exhibit at the Musee Rath. However, when I arrived it was closed, so I climbed the hill up to the old town.  I spotted a bookstore boasting beautiful leather-bound old books, some with that  ‘used’ but not ruined patina. In response to my request for touring advice, the bookseller recommended two spots. His selections were perfect for my tastes! I suspect booksellers and librarians share many interests.

International Museum of the Reformation

The International Museum of the Reformation is outstanding! Harry Potter fans will smile as they see Martin Luther and John Calvin telling their stories from the fancy mirror in the drawing room .The narration and interactive exhibits inform and entertain. My Catholic education gave credit to Luther for his good intentions, but painted Calvin and Knox with unflattering brushes. In this museum we hear “the other side “ of the story. It is very provocative for me.  It is so sad to think of the inhuman deeds done in the name of religion!  There must be a need to elevate our religious leaders, thus tempting them to believe they’re preternatural and deserving of privilege. Ingeniously, there is a tiny chapel tucked away where one can meditate while listening to liturgical music of the time.

Cathedrale Saint Pierre

Nearby St. Peter’s was very worth the visit. I climbed the 157steps of the north tower to get a view of the city and lakeshore. About 2/3 of the way up, I realized no one on earth knew I was in that narrow, old stone staircase. I gulped for air and realized my sea level lungs were adjusting to a much higher elevation. Yikes! This from someone who begs Mike not to use a ladder unless I’m in the house to rescue him. All went well until I stepped out onto the icy floor of the outside balcony. If I took a moment away from clinging to the ancient stone banister, I could notice the exquisite panoramic view of Geneva, the lake, and the mountains. I felt a sense of accomplishment. Climbing all those steep steps at my age!  My joy was temporary. When I tried the immense wooden doors to the inside staircase, they were locked!

I made my way around the tower to a door that let me back inside. Descending was a relief. I saw no one at all during my climb or descent. (Read off-season)

Downstairs in the cathedral, technology shows the different layers of ‘churches’ built one upon the other through the ages. (Allobrogians, Romans, Medieval Christians). The archeologists working there welcome input from visitors and scholars. Their excavations are well lit. A taped narrative explains the findings. Seeing the indentations made when bells were forged, seeing the actual burial pits, baptismal pools, monks’ cells carved into the stone made the trip downstairs fascinating.

Red Cross Museum

My Sumatran friend Rima and I took the bus from the hotel on a cold morning. Approaching the museum we see a huddle of stone figures aptly named ‘Petrified.’ We descend the stairs into the dark reality of man’s inhumanity to man. The fate of prisoners is emphasized although service to natural disaster victims is included in the powerful depictions.  War footage is sad to watch. Life size dioramas depict rescues, medical intervention, supplies given. It is a somber place weighted down by the suffering effectively depicted.

 Rima related to the flooding disasters depicted. It has not been long since her country suffered from a terrible tsunami.  In one section of the museum there are tall shelves holding boxes containing a card for each prisoner of World War I. The Red Cross performed an invaluable service, notifying next of kin. Seeing a card for each known prisoner intensifies our understanding of the scope of this tragedy.

Masons emporium is like a city within the city of Geneva. Are you in the mood for fresh sweet plantains? Designer clothes at steep discounts? A wooden cuckoo clock?

We ate lunch with swarms of locals who, like us, had elbowed their way past delectable-looking food displays. We squeezed ourselves next to strangers and focused on very tasty food. How they keep so many people happy with such hot entrees and fresh pastries is impressive. Not the quiet place for that romantic lunch however.

As Mike and I were bundled up and ready to walk to dinner, we had the good fortune of running into Netty Mbatha from South Africa. Brave soul in high heels and no hat, she accepted our invite to join us. I had passed a cute restaurant with award-winning bouillabaisse- just the thing to warm our insides. Too bad what I thought was a short walk turned into a great long haul with wind raising the chill factor. We entered an empty restaurant (not a good advertisement) and sat down. Sorry, they were out of the fish soup. Oh well, how about a glass of wine? Only French and Swiss wines proffered. When we chauvinistically reminded the café owner that South Africa and Washington State respectively, had fabulous wines, too; he said his clientele only selects Swiss and French wines. In fact, we had wonderful Swiss wines

that week. The restaurant was full when we left.

Rath Museum

Musee Rath is just the right size for the Giacometti exhibition. The building, like many in Geneva, is grand. There is space between works making it easy to muse and linger. Seeing a body of work is its own tutorial. Hey, I think “ Walking Man” is worth the $104.3 million making it the highest price ever paid for art at an auction!

We slipped and slid along the icy sidewalks to Café Lyrique , a charming old world café with a cadre of highly skilled waiters. My mushroom and escargots dish was delicious. You never could have convinced me as a child that I would gush over such foods.

Lausanne

After the final day of meetings, we boarded the train for Lausanne. We arrived on time, standing outside so our friends Guy and Rosemarie Bonnard could scoop us up. After a few minutes, I told Mike I’d wait inside. After many minutes we wondered where they were. Meanwhile, they were walking up and down the tracks trying to find us! They drove us to their lovely home on Lake Geneva. We dressed for dinner, enjoyed some Port and reveled in the elegance and beauty of Hotel Beau Rivage. The presentation of food was artful. This is the dreamy site of the Bonnard’s son’s wedding reception.

The Valais Canton

Oh to grow old in a land where one can board a train to Valais then tram to the Crans-Montana resort in the mountains, stroll, hike, dine alfresco with our faces to the sun and then repeat our journey back home.  How Swiss is that? Guy’s pasta dinner was perfect after our day outdoors.

Morning at the Bonnard-Bonner residence

The light is streaming into our room. We see the Alps and Lake Geneva out our window. Downstairs the beautiful light warms our breakfast of pear bread, coffee, hot chocolate and cheese.

On Valentine’s Day, Rosemarie asks if I’d like an egg. No thanks, I reply. I will enjoy the magnificent golden braided loaf of bread with Swiss cheeses. She asks me the same question again. No thanks. When she asks a third time, I say ‘Yes’. Then I smile at the heart-shaped fried egg on my delicate china plate! Friends are precious.

Musee Stradler of Fondation de l’Hermitage

Franz Marc’s   “Dog Sleeping in the Snow” was my favorite painting in this exhibit space. A new look at a familiar scene. Again, the building itself warrants notice and appreciation. The view from the hillside is spectacular. Impressionist and Post-Impressionist share the space with Chinese porcelain and temporary exhibits. Since I was in the midst of physical therapy for a tight hamstring, I lingered over the Degas sculpture of a dancer doing a thigh stretch!

We stopped for pastries at Vincent Café, and then enjoyed them with tea that afternoon.

Our farewell dinner featured Raclette and finished with little valentine cookies. Oh yes, we were spoiled. While Guy and Rosemarie were chopping and slicing, Mike and I visited with their son, Vincent and his wife, Sarah.

We caught the train back to Geneva, overnighting  at the Ramada airport hotel and asking for an impossibly early wakeup call. My seatmate on the trip back home was an international judge of team ice-skating. Since this is my granddaughter’s passion, it was fun to chat about the criteria. She knew of Sydney’s coach in Warwick. Small world.

But…………not small enough! It took me two weeks to sleep through the night. Where is that cure for jet lag?