Alien in CH: Goodbye

In my romantic visions of my last week in Geneva, I wandered the city, camera in hand, saying a leisurely farewell to favorite places and people. Somehow, however, there seemed to be too many orthodontist appointments to keep, too many emails about house and car insurance to answer, and too many hotel reservations to make. Also, I don’t really carry a camera. And also, Geneva was uncharacteristically warm -- no, hot -- which was not conducive to romantic wandering of any kind, but rather to sitting, sipping iced lemonade (which I didn’t do, either). I did manage to remember to take a few quick snaps with my cell phone. Favorite people might not want their image splashed all over cyberspace (and how would you feel if you didn’t make the list?). So here is an affectionate goodbye to some of my favorite Geneva places.

1. Chez Ma Cousine, otherwise known to the Aliens as “the chicken place.” It’s the best rotisserie chicken in the city, possibly in the world (and I don’t even like chicken, usually), served with a very un-Swiss sized pile of potato wedges and salad. All this comes at a price that compares to McDonald's (although that’s McDonald's in Geneva, not America or even France). Once we overcame price paralysis and actually started eating out occasionally, this was our usual hangout.

2. Movenpick, otherwise known to the Aliens as “that ice cream stand by the tram stop.” Geneva has lots of good ice cream (it’s all those Swiss cows), but for a combination of flavor, convenience, and view (of the Jet d’Eau), this Movenpick stand is hard to beat.

3. The Ecole Professionelle de Coiffure, home of Professor of Hair Philippe, who rules the world of coiffure with an iron fist (and always finds one more wisp to snip when students think they have finished). The beauty school is a true bargain -- something rare in this city of Rolex and furs. One does have to be prepared to invest a whole morning, but where else is it possible to have a beautician from Portugal who introduces the client to her classmate from Dubai?

4. The Rhone. In this shot, taken as a hasty afterthought while we sped across Post Butin on our way to the airport and out of Geneva, one can clearly see the beauty of the river and the pleasant footpaths that meander along its banks. Johanna recently asked family members to describe their ideal Saturday, and both Eric’s and mine included a walk along the Rhone. Mine also included number 2 and 5 (below).

5. The Onex Bakery. It took about a year of consistent attendance to get a smile, and nearly two to get a cheery wave and “bonjour,” but by the end of our stay, we were even invited to an open wine cellar event at the owner’s other family business. The boulangerie has almond croissants that I dream about, although some family members prefer the vanilla. I stopped by to say “au revoir” on our last morning (and buy croissants, of course), and came away with a bag full of pastries and a loaf of bread, which I am currently in the process of smuggling through U.S. Customs.

6. The Coop. I never figured out if this grocery store’s name was pronounced like a chicken coop, a homeschool co-op, or what one does when things get rough. Whatever, the case, its chocolate, bread, yogurt, and produce are worth the price. Coop also has a restaurant, which is where I would meet Madame for our French coffee and chats. I wish I could say that I always looked forward to these tête-a-têtes. I certainly should have, since Madame is one of the world’s most sweet and charming ladies and since it was an unparalleled opportunity to practice French. The whole experience usually paralyzed me with fear. But for a basically shy 42-year-old, the opportunity to do something scary is probably just as valuable as the French practice. And when I said goodbye to Madame and saw the tears in her kindly brown eyes, I could barely remember the stomach ache I got before every phone call and meeting.

7. The patio was ideal for parties, morning devotions, and an evening glass of wine. The kids played board games there with friends, and it became my office while the house was full of movers. As the only place in the house with chairs during our final two weeks, it was our de facto living and dining room, too.

Two years ago, the thought of moving to Geneva filled me with the anticipation of adventure. I imagined travel, mountain hiking, skiing, and learning a new language. We did all of those things, and all of those things were wonderful. Life in Geneva, though, ended up being like life everywhere -- a matter of the daily things: a place to sit and look at the quince tree, a grocery store with reliable raspberries, a favorite walk, coffee with a friend.

Some other pictures: