I like it here. I haven't actually seen anything yet, but I like it here.
We arrived around 9 am, local time. The flight took us over the north coast of France, and then across its agricultural heart. The clouds filled the valleys like ghostly veins, then glowed with life as the sun climbed across the continent. The clouds thickened as we neared Geneva, and as we decended through them I caught glimpses of forests, lakes, and scattered chateaux atop the hills. The air was thick, grey, and gloomy.
We landed along the western edge of the lake. Below me, the suburb seemed very European. I'd never seen a European suburb before but the haphazard streets and old houses seemed to fit my expectations. Europe is built with stone.
Customs was easy: The guard gave my passport a quick glance and waved me through. That was it. I picked up the keys to my rental car and headed out to the garage. The sky was heavy with clouds and the air was warm.
The car was something called an Opel, which I'd never heard of. It was also a stick shift, which is apparently the standard for Europe. No problem; that's what I drive at home. I loaded up my luggage and tried to back out of the parking spot.
Hmm... the diagram on the gear shift indicated that reverse was left-then-up, but left-then-up kept moving me forward. I tried several times, but I couldn't get the car into reverse. This was embarassing. Should I go back to the counter and ask them how to drive? I decided to check the manual. It was in French, German, and Italian, but I managed to locate a diagram showing that in order to get into reverse, I had to lift up a little ring at the base of the knob.
The hotel was only about 1/2 km away, but it took me about 30 minutes to get there. I got lost. You see, the streets in Geneva aren't very well marked. First, I drove right by the hotel. Then I did several loops, back and forth along the same street, trying to get back to the right street. I finally found the street, but a bunch of soldiers told me the road was blocked. They suggested taking a big long loop, basically back to the airport, and starting again. I thanked them and managed to find a shortcut through the exhibition center.
My hotel room has a bidet.
I've never used a bidet. I'm not quite sure how to use a bidet. Given their relative importance, local toilet customs seem to a rather under-discussed phenomena in travel circles. Fortunately, I found some toilet paper. I may work up the nerve to use the bidet eventually, and if I do I'll let you know how it turned out.
I've spent the past few hours walking around Old Geneva. The streets wind this way and that, and stores fill the old buildings. The stores are hidden and private, places for secret and serious business. The people in Geneva are all very busy and have somewhere to go -- except for the tourists, who are very busy and have nowhere to go.
Geneva has two famous landmarks that were mentioned in every piece of tourism literature I found. The first is the Jet d'Eau, a former outlet for the waterworks that was gradually converted into a several-hundred-foot stream of water. The Jet d'Eau is impressive, and if you catch it from just the right angle it looks like a sourceless waterfall, pouring endlessly out of the sky. The second landmark is the Flower Clock, a tribute to Switzerland's watchmaking history. The Flower Clock epitomizes everything I dislike about tourist traps -- it's really not very impressive, and yet people flock to it. They go there because that's what the guidebook says to do, and they get their picture taken in front of it, and then check off yet another of the items on the facile scavenger hunt they call a vacation.
I enjoyed a grilled panini (sandwich) for lunch in a courtyard just below the church I'm in. I speak a a decent amount of French, I basically know how to say what I need. The problem is that I can't understand the replies. I suppose it'll take a while to develop my ear. Also, it appears that my "default" foreign language has become Spanish. I keep responding "si" (instead of "oui") when I'm trying to say "yes".
I wandered the streets aimlessly all afternoon, sometimes resting, sometimes taking pictures. I found Le Cathedrale St-Pierre (St. Peter's Church) and spent some time inside. Structurally, it was similar to the churches I encountered on my trip to Mexico. But where the Mexican churches were crammed to the ceiling with icons, sculptures and gold-relief carvings, their Swiss counterparts were sparse and bare. They are like empty concrete caves, with only stained-glass windows providing colour. They lack the awe-inspiring majesty of those in Mexico, but they still have a wonderful sense of spirituality -- albeit a more spartan version.
The church I'm in now was playing beautiful organ music when I entered. Now, the organist has handed off the keyboard to a student who is making the same mistakes on the same piece of music over and over again. The piece is very nice, though. So is the peace.
I did a little bit more wandering around the streets of Geneva before returning to my car. I didn't find much in the way of adventure, and adventure didn't find me. Several times, as I was sitting on benches to rest, I found myself nodding off. I haven't slept more than maybe 5 hours in the last 48, so I guess that's to be expected.
I had dinner in the hotel's restaurant. I probably could have done better. The food was decent but way over-priced. My bill was 38 swiss francs (maybe $30) for veal scallopini with some mineral water.
My enthusiasm for this place is beginning to wane, and I really hope it's the lack of sleep. I feel like I understand about 75% of what's going on, and that missing 25% is disturbing. Part of it is language, and part of it is different, unstated, unknown customs. Can I turn right on a red light? Should I leave a tip? When that bus suddenly squeezed me out of my lane on the way home, was I at fault? I really doubt all, or even most, of this will come clear. I do hope I become more comfortable.