“Ladies and gentlemen,” the typical pre-flight spiel started as Fiona and I settled into our seats, “welcome to EasyJet. I’d like to inform you that currently the plane is being refueled, so please leave your seat belts unfastened.” At this point the flight attendant has my attention, as he pantomimes unbuckling a seat belt, “in case we need to get out of the plane quickly.” He follows that last statement with a pantomime of jumping out the door.

Fiona and I looked at each other, knowing that we were in for a vacation experience of a lifetime.

Leavin' on a Jet Plane

Fiona met me in Manchester, England after the work portion of the trip concluded. World Wrestling Entertainment held two shows in Sheffield, and now that those shows were safely turned into ones and zeroes and transmitted around the world, I was officially on vacation.

Normally, I spend plenty of time preparing and planning a trip, but this time, I did the opposite. We waited until Fiona arrived in Manchester to decide what we wanted to do. We didn’t make any reservations, book any hotel rooms or anything. Lastminute.com had a good package deal on an EasyJet flight from Manchester to Geneva and a downtown hotel, so, after a little discussion, we decided that Geneva would be our first stop.

The refueling went without a hitch, as did the flight, and about an hour later we found ourselves in Geneva. At this point, and in fact for the entire trip, we were without a plan, but at that point we were ready to start our vacation. We decided to take each day as it came, and see what we felt like doing. Perfect!

Hotel Auteuil was conveniently located near the train station, which would end up being invaluable the next day. We piled into the closet-sized elevator, and dropped our bags off in our closet sized room.

Two Elevators

We had a good laugh at the two single beds that were pushed together, when suddenly, there was a knock on the door. A ‘Turn-down Service Maid’ came in, stripped the single sheets off the bed, whipped a queen sized sheet over the twin beds with a flourish, smiled and walked out without ever saying a word.

“Strange place, Geneva.” I said. When I said that, I had no idea how true that statement would turn out to be.

We set out to explore the worldwide center of diplomacy and international co-operation. Besides being the so-called “Peace Capital”, Geneva is also evidently the worldwide center of ridiculously priced watches.

It’s a good thing the Swiss use pretend money called ‘francs’, otherwise I would think these watches (and pretty much everything else in Switzerland for that matter) is WAAY overpriced. How do I know their money is pretend? Look:

Moe, Larry and Curly

Any currency that prominently features the Three Stooges can not have any ‘real’ value, can it?

To get to Old Town Geneva and it’s famous cathedral, we had to walk through a fairly seedy area. Hookers patrolled every corner, and other shadowy figures watched us with interest. On the way to the touristy center, we found a small dive bar and stopped in for a drink. Patrick, the bartender, warned us about the area we were in, saying we should walk in the light, even if it meant walking down the center of the streets. I wasn’t sure if we were in a den of thieves or vampires. We thanked Patrick for the helpful information and left.

As we approached Old Town, a brawl erupted from a bar into the streets. People stopped and watched as a muscular guy pummeled a fatter one. Nobody made a move to stop the fight. As we spectated, Mr. Muscles got in a few good shots and Mr. Unlucky crumpled to the pavement.

Peace Capital? Woah.

Over There? Old Town

Lake Geneva stands between the red light district and Old Town. Seems every European city has an old town, and they are usually worth exploring. Old Town was exactly as expected, a big cathedral and some shops; a relatively safe and very touristy haven. Still shaking our heads at the fight in the capital of peace and tolerance, we sat at an outdoor cafe, eager to try some fondue. Fiona slung her purse over the back of her chair, and a waiter rushed over. Though he didn’t speak English, his message was clear. Don’t leave your purse there, or it will be snatched. He made her loop her purse around the leg of her chair, safely tucked out of site.

I started to understand why airfare to Geneva was so cheap.

Fondue. Stuff dipped in cheese. Sounds good, and the first few bites are, but then, it gets… old. But, at least it was fantastically expensive, at seventy-five francs a bowl. That’s one Moe, one Larry and some various other coins. For cheese. Ouch!

There’s only one way to get over the shock of the cost of everything in Switzerland:

Cheers, Swiss Style!

Still on foot, we re-crossed Lake Geneva from Old Town back to the red light district. The vibe on the streets had changed, and not for the better. Though my spider sense was tingling, we decided to stop back into Patrick’s bar for a nightcap. While the bar was still relatively full, for some reason the door was locked. Patrick recognized us from behind the bar, and allowed us in.

At this hour, the clientele had changed from before. Patrick’s Place was now filled with an assortment of nasty looking rogues. One guy in particular, a big, thick, bald dude, kept giving me the stink eye. Every minute or so he would turn around and glare. As bravely as possible, I suggested to Fiona we drink up fast and move on. Rule number one of travel is go with your gut, and my gut was telling me it was time to call it a night.

Suddenly, Mr. Big, Thick and Bald jumped up and started coming over toward us. I nearly shat myself, as my life flashed before my eyes. Instead of crushing me, he ran out the door, followed by Patrick and a few others. A fight from the bar next door had spilled out into the streets. Two dudes were having a grand old punch up on the sidewalk. Two bar fights in one night. What luck!

A woman who stayed behind came over to us to warn us. “You really should go now. The police won’t come, they never come here unless there is an election. This is going to get worse, and it’s going to get worse very soon. Remember, stay in the lighted areas, and stay out of the alleys. That’s where the drug dealers are.”

Melodramatic? Possibly. But, the way I see it, you only get so many warnings in life before something bad happens, and we’d already had plenty of warnings. While the two guys from the bar next door were still playing Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robots in the street, we slipped away, careful to stay in the light.

On the way back, Fiona suggested that maybe the rest of Geneva was better left unexplored. I agreed, and after careful consultation with a guide book and train schedules, we decided to head for a place called Interlacken, and a mountain called the Jungfraujock.

We had no idea what we were in for.

Author: frenchy