Paris, France to Geneva, Switzerland to Barcelona, Spain

Monday, November 23, 2009
Paris, France to Geneva, Switzerland

Hopping up after only four hours sleep, I hugged Catherine goodbye and walked down Phillipe August to Nation and onward to the train station. Lugging my 36 pound luggage up and down the stairs of the Paris Metro did nothing to make my morning better. And, after entering the train station, I headed right to the kiosk to print out my ticket to Switzerland, only to have the credit card rejected since it wasn’t a Euro MasterCard. Two information booth stops later, I crawled into line with all the other English speakers and handed the woman a print out of my reservation, where she promptly printed out a new boarding pass and off I went. Grabbing a croissant and OJ, I waited for the platform to be announced and as soon as they lit up “21” I headed to the train. I hopped inside a carriage that I saw labeled on my ticket and assumed it was free for all seating, since I hadn’t noticed a seat number. I chose 46 b/c it was in the middle of the cart and had a table for me to work at. No sooner had I gotten myself comfortable then two men asked me in French to move over since apparently I was taking up their room. I pulled out my ticket and there was obviously a seat number on there that I had somehow missed as I was pulling me and my American Tourister roll-on up the stairs. Lucky me, I was only one seat off, and I scooted over. The train left the station right on time and I leaned back to catch a nap. After an hour or so I woke up to the French countryside and barrels of hay, just like in the movies. Small homes lined the route towards the Swiss border and I waited for someone to jump out singing and dancing just like Roger’s and Hammerstein.

After 3 hours, the train pulled up into Geneva where I de-boarded and followed everyone else, since I had no map of Switzerland and no clue where I was going. Right outside I was met by a friend and together we headed to the place I would be staying for the next two days. Upon arrival, I noticed all the banks lining the river. Now, I know that Switzerland is known for it’s banking business, but to see it in person left my mouth a gap. Once I was tightly tucked away in the comforts of home, I settled into some daily work before taking in a view of Geneva. Strolling along the river I was met by slight rainfall and a cool breeze, while the lights of the Rolex building and Deutsche bank glowed across the bank. Far up a high hill I continued to a small square containing large cannons and red glowing lights. Small children ran through and played as if they were toys. The cobblestone streets were small, only large enough for two mini-coopers to pass by with a few inches in between and in the middle of town I found a large square where a chocolate shop was lit up. Chocolate formed kettles filled the window, in every size imaginable. As eager as I was, they were already closed and I would have to wait until tomorrow to taste the devine dessert. Walking my way back across the bridge, I saw swans floating in the water…so big, I think they were on steroids. Even though it’s only 10:00 PM, there aren’t a lot of people on the street, so I head towards home and call it an early night.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Geneva, Switzerland

I rose early and took the train to the airport the greet mom. Visitors to Geneva ride public transportation FOR FREE the entire time they are in the city. What a deal! And, what a great way to promote public transit. Plus, the train only takes 6 minutes to get to and from the airport, so it was easy and fast. Arriving at the airport, I find mom waiting in baggage claim and back to town we go; of course, we just missed the 8:05 AM train and instead of waiting around for 30 minutes until the next one I say “let’s just take the bus.” Mom tells me she needs to go to the restroom, but inside it costs $1 Swiss Frank and all I have is a $50. On the bus I have no idea where we are going, just that eventually the bus will get us back to town. After riding for several stops, I figure it out and we get off near the train station. It’s raining again and mom stops to get out her umbrella. It is so big, I swear she is Mary Poppins and may float away. Storing her luggage, we head to breakfast where I enjoy a wide variety of Swiss and French cheeses, croissants, jellies, jams, and croissants. I am going to get fat on this trip, but as long as it’s on cheese and chocolate, I don’t care. Next stop, we walk along the river where the swans are back, along with their ducky friends. The trees are manicured into a fun cone-like shape and large silver decorations are placed on them for Christmas. There are river boat cruises you can take for only $23 Swiss Franks, which include all you can eat fondue; however, they stopped for the season a few weeks back and I am very sad. Continuing on, mom begins to tell me that her feet hurt from all the walking and I tell her “Welcome to Europe!” Far up a hill, that was not described on the map, I can finally see the UN building and the blue flag waiving in front. As I cross in front of the UNHCR, there are 20 or so armed military personnel guarding the gates and I keep on walking. Mom tells me “I don’t think we can pass” and I say “Just follow me” I keep walking through a hole in the fence and the security guard waves me through. Across the courtyard we see the flags and broken chair welcoming us to the UN and I head to cross the street. Mom takes off jaywalking and I yell out to her; then a UN military police officer begins to speak to her in French before I can get there and she tells me later she thought she was going to the UN jail. I say “if you’re going to jaywalk anywhere, I guess directly in front of the UN is the place.” In actuality, the guard was just asking her where she was trying to go, so I tell him we’re looking for the visitor entrance and he waves us around the corner. At the entrance it seems that they are about to close up for a two hour lunch, but the x-ray machine technician lets us through and soon I am presented with my very own UN visitor pass. It would look a little more official if I wasn’t so tired and had decided to put make up on today. Then, we head down the stairs where I tell the lady I am a student and she gives the discount; only $8 Swiss Franks instead of $10.

She tells us to head outside and look for building 39, but when I get outside all I see is building 17 and know that the UN is one place I don’t want to get lost. But, I take a chance and swing left where building 39 is right next to 17 and I wonder how matters of world peace are solved here, but not mathematics. The English-speaking tour starts right at noon and our guide takes us to a large board where the outlay of the UN is displayed. We see three conference rooms, but mostly hallways. I am told how the UN building was built…each UN country gave something to help build it, i.e. marble from Italy, ceiling decorations from Spain. I ask what the USA gave and am guided to a small wall with some pictures that look like photos, but are actually drawings. They depict the California coast. Seriously, that is all the USA could come up with? I learn about the money given to the UN and how countries are put on probation; what 6 official languages are spoken at the UN. I learn that Nicole Kidman was not actually here to film “The Interpreter.” That makes me sad. After an hour the tour is over and mom needs a nap. Jet lag is setting in, so we head back.

At night we spa it up and then I open a bottle of champagne. It’s vacation, we should celebrate! After an hour the bottle is gone and we are wondering the streets of Geneva. As we walk, Christmas lights are strung up in the air and locals meander in the streets. The jewels for sale sparkle even more in the dark and I wonder where my hidden Swiss bank account is to buy me all the pretty things I see. After seeing all that Geneva has to offer, we head back to the bar, where drinks in Switzerland are expensive. $24 Swiss Franks for martinis and margaritas, which is pretty much $24 US since the currency is about even right now. I keep it simple with wine and we close out the night enjoying the nightcap. Although nightlife in Geneva doesn’t seem to be a NYC or Vegas, at least they are changing the world here with decisions and world peace.

Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Geneva, Switzerland to Barcelona, Spain

Breakfast is magical as I lounge around and enjoy the fact that I am in Switzerland. Sipping on my coffee I wonder how in the hell I have been able to not hold a 9-5 job for almost two years, yet still live like a queen. It is good. After packing up and heading out, we spend the last day in Geneva roaming the streets. There is a beautiful church on top of the hill and what appears to be a temple of some sort where a funeral is going on. The river runs right through town and we stop near a merry-go-round to watch kids play and the daily farmers market take place. Crepes and kabobs are for sale as workers hurry in the streets, grabbing food, then perching themselves on a bench nearby. In the park the Christmas lights are going up with great care and I find a tree filled with gold clothing promoting the opera. On the main street mom and I visit the Martel chocolate shop where chocolate is $65 Swiss Franks per kilo. I only wonder how that compares to the going rate for cocaine these days. Which would you choose if given the opportunity? Inside the shop, mom uses all her Swiss Franks to buy chocolate and we devour the goodness before even pushing the door back open into the street. Good. Ness.

In late afternoon it’s time to head to the airport. At the airport the EasyJet kiosk won’t read my American MasterCard, so back into line I go. After printing our boarding passes, I hand the girl my luggage and we go off to security. There is some sign about 100mg of liquids, but since I don’t know how much that is, I throw my Evian in the plastic bin and tell mom to as well. While we are turning the corner a security man asks her in French how she enjoyed her trip to Switzerland. But, she thinks he’s telling her she has some forbidden object and gets a stricken look on her face before he speaks to her in English and we all bust out laughing. At the x-ray machine my water does not make it through, but the Swiss-TSA agent lets me drink it and keep the bottle. So nice of him. I search out Wi-Fi in the airport, but you have to have a Swiss phone number and a text sent to you with the code. Too much work. Although, I realize that I don’t have the phone number of the woman I am renting the apartment from in Barcelona. So, this non-Internet is a problem. I do have my friend Ana’s phone number though and head to the pay phone to call her. The phone dings a busy signal, so I’ll just have to wait until I get to Barcelona.

As we board I realize that this EasyJet is like the Southwest Air of Europe and we somehow end up in the back when I was off my guard. Living on four hours of sleep, I conk out at lift off, then am woken up by the lady in my row who decided to take up shop by the window. Both me, and the guy in the middle, were both asleep and she woke us up. Now, it’s only an hour flight, if you know you’re gonna have to pee then don’t sit by the window. After giving her an “I want to kill you” look, I think she gets the message. In Barcelona a guy two rows behind me pushes and shoves to get two rows ahead of me and is so rude that he knocks off the glasses of another person, then drops his luggage on their head. Out at baggage claim I immediately search for a telephone and am told there is only one, WAY FAR DOWN. I walk that way where it’s out of service, so I continue on to the RENFE station.

I had rented an apartment from someone named Joan. Joan had given me directions to the apartment, which was a few blocks away from my friends Ana and Piero. Ana gave me new directions and told me they were much easier. At RENFE we missed the train by 3 minutes, then sat around to catch the next one 30 minutes later. While waiting I approached various people asking to use their cell phones and they looked at me as though I was going to rip them off. At this point we are 45 minutes late to meet Ana and I still don’t have the phone number to Joan. I have no map of Barcelona and no clue where the hell I am going. As we load up on to the train mom tells me “I miss Daddy hauling my luggage” and think “Lucky Dad!” On the train we are forced to connect at Barcelona Sants and on the second RENFE there is a delay when we are only one station away. After a 20 minute delay we begin to head backwards on the tracks and I notice a guy with an I Phone. He lets me use it and I connect with Ana; she has been waiting over an hour for me. This is not going well. As I talk with her mom and I (and the I Phone guy) are moving swiftly through Barcelona Sants only to find the escalator out of order. Up the stairs we haul luggage as I talk on the I Phone, asking Ana to please call Joan and let her know I am in Barcelona and on my way to the apartment. Ana says she’ll try, but she’s not at home anymore; then advises me to just hop in a cab. This is a great idea, except I am plum out of Euros and must find a bank. Up the stairs and onto the street I spot a bank, hand back the I Phone and begin to feel like Chevy Chase in National Lampoon’s European Vacation. After collecting cash, mom and I hop into the taxi and he speeds away. We are there in a flash and now standing at another Metro station in the middle of Barcelona. I still have no map and no clue where the hell we are.

After approximately two minutes, a straggly looking fellow pulls up and asks if I am Jenifer. Yes, that’s me. He introduces himself and tells me to follow him. He tells me that Joan sent him. He will take me to the apartment. It is dark, I have no clue where I am, and as I begin to walk down the street, I feel like that movie “Taken.” There is an utter suspicion mom and I are about to be sold as sex slaves.