Genève...

The morning after epic man hike was an early one. Jordan and Brynne were flying out of the Geneva airport and heading back to the good ol' United States around 10:00am. Because it was a three hour drive back to Geneva from Grindelwald, we woke up at the same time as the cows. (I know that because the cowbells started clanging like crazy while we were eating breakfast.) Thankfully, the four of us were able to peel ourselves out of bed and hit the road on-schedule, despite our dead legs and the lingering aftereffects of the day before.

We said our goodbyes and parted with the girls as they went through security. It was bizarre to think that they would get to sleep in their own beds that night and that we would be back in Cambridge. I seriously have no idea what my home base is at this point. To refer to Cambridge as 'home' doesn't sound right, but to not call it 'home' makes me feel like I'm denying our time spent here. Anyway, that's an existential post for another day. 

So, after we hugged the girls and got them on their merry way, Matthew and I decided to park in the Geneva city center and do some exploring. (Our flight didn't leave until 9:00pm, giving us plenty of time to wander.)

Geneva is a fancy place, let me tell you. Switzerland is known for it's precision time pieces, and even something as mundane as parking your car runs like clockwork. Every single clock in a public place looked like an expensive watch.

The streets were very clean and tidy. And the architecture had an eclectic vibe, reminding me of Paris, Venice, and Barcelona mixed together.

 

 

 

 

I love it when there are flower boxes in the window sills.

We stopped by Jet d'Eau (the obvious 400-foot-tall geyser of water that appears to be shooting out of my head.) And basically, we just walked around in awe of how expensive everything was.

Starbucks: coffee is their passion. And apparently they think highly of their passion. Smallest cup of joe you could buy would set you back 6CHF, or roughly $6.50.

I'd heard of the infamous red-soled wonders that are Louboutin shoes, but I'd never seen an actual store full of them until this day.

And of course, had we spent the night in Geneva, we would have driven our Porsche and stayed at the Four Seasons.

Geneva exuded luxury. The people looked rich and spoke French, which made them sound even more affluent. The pricetags were astronomical. I don't think I saw a single homeless person, which is unheard of in any major city. And let's just say I felt severely under-dressed in my white t-shirt. If Paris is supposed to be the fashion capital of the world, then Geneva is the conspicuous consumption center. I can only imagine what Monaco or Dubai are like. Maybe next time I live overseas I can stop by and find out.

The only other major landmark that we visited (besides Jet d'Eau) was Cathedral St. Pierre. This is the church where John Calvin and John Knox taught and encouraged the progress of the Protestant Reformation way back in the 1500s.

The towers and spire were unmissable.

Almost as unmissable as Calvin's oddly dexterous facial hair.

As far as churches go, this one was pretty plain, but the rose windows were nice. They had Calvin's chair roped off in a corner, but other than that, we didn't stick around too long or see very much. Blasphemous, I know.

In an alleyway near the church, I saw this little window. Matt thought I was crazy for stopping to stare at dead plants, but the lighting is what caught my eye.

Once outside again, we decided to try and drive to CERN, which is outside the city center and somewhat near the airport. After paying over $7 at the car park, we were on our way outta town! Particle smashing laboratory here we come!

Hubs was getting his geek on.

Tah dah! The European Organization for Nuclear Research! Oh boy!

Tell me again what they do here? Something about the origins of life, colliding stuff in a tube, and The Da Vinci Code?

Bottom line: CERN is where uber-intelligent people are trying their best to figure out those burning questions like where/when/how/why the universe began. The closer they get, the more they recognize that the answers are farther away than they thought. My brain felt like it had taken a ride in the giant particle collider by the time we left.

Inside the wooden spherical building, we discovered the Men In Black headquarters. I was sorely disappointed when Will Smith was not the star nor the narrator of the video they showed.

However, I was pleasantly surprised to find this little beauty in one of the alien capsules: the first World Wide Web server! It was developed by a CERN employee back in 1989 (the year I was born!). Crazy. Without the progress that this black box instigated twenty-three years ago, I would not be sitting here today and utilizing the powers of the internet so that you can read about my life on the other side of the globe. Technology rocks!

I don't know if we were mentally exhausted from CERN or physically drained from epic man hike, but Matthew and I were wiped out. We didn't even have the willpower to fight traffic and go back into the city center. I'm ashamed to admit it, but we returned our rental car early and then sat at the airport. For five hours before our flight. Five hours. Luckily, the airport is as ritzy as the city, and they have a nice outdoor patio for passing the time and soaking up the sunshine. Unluckily, the airport is as ritzy as the city, and we refused to spend $15 on a Burger King whopper meal, so we starved. We snacked on a handful of pistachios (leftover from hiking) and a bar of chocolate while watching an episode of Mad Men at our gate.

When we finally got airborne, we watched a lightning storm in the distance as the sun set over the mountains, which was nifty. And the flight was only the beginning of a long journey home. Our plane landed at Gatwick, which is the farthest London airport from Cambridge. It takes a train, a ride on the Tube, another hour-long train, and a short taxi ride to make it back to our flat. Usually, it's about a 2 hour process. We touched down a little less than an hour before the final train would leave from Gatwick going to the Victoria Tube stop, and we were hustling to get through customs. We ran. With our bags. Sprinted, actually. I was a sweaty mess. A sweaty, hungry, tired mess. It was 11 o'clock at night, we'd been up since 5ish, and we'd only eaten nuts and chocolate. But, I was determined that my pitiful asthmatic self would not be the reason we missed the last train. So I kept up with my hubby, and didn't worry about how insane I looked.

I'll condense the story because I know you're sick of reading... but, we made the transfer to Victoria. I sat in between a lady with horrible gas and a creepy man who kept looking me up and down. The only upside was that the British version of the Jersey Shore cast boarded the train and was ultra entertaining to stare at. They were surprisingly well-behaved. Then, when we got off at Victoria, I was more than happy to run away from stinky fart woman and molester man. I knew we had a matter of minutes to get to King's Cross to catch the Cambridge express, and by golly, I'd give every ounce of energy! I was blazing up and down the escalators, people dodging me left and right. They knew I was on a mission. Except for one old lady.

Never in my life have I wanted to shove an elderly woman, but I almost did. We were hauling it down an escalator, nearing our train with every step. I was yelling, "EXCUSE ME, EXCUSE ME, EXCUSE ME!" as we passed those standing on the right. Then, fifty yards from the bottom, end in sight, this old lady steps to the left and directly into my path. I say, "Excuse me!" as politely as I can, and the hag responds, "I can't move!!!" Well that's funny. Because you just moved into my way, which leads me to believe that you can just as easily move out of my way. But noooooo, she rode the rest of the way down standing on the wrong side and blocking us from passing. I was outraged. But that rage did not even compare to the livid indignation that overwhelmed my soul as we dashed off the escalator, rounded the corner, and watched helplessly as the doors of the train SHUT. Closed. By delaying us for less than a minute, the witchy woman made us miss our Tube transfer by two seconds. And wouldn't you know that despite our best efforts to recover from the delay, we arrived at King's Cross two minutes after our express train left for Cambridge. We were stuck waiting for another entire hour (until 12:15am). All that running for diddly squat. I cried. Well, tears weren't quite running down my cheeks, but they were welling up to the very brim.

Poor Matthew Tyler tried his darnedest to cheer me up by offering food and distracting me with the interesting crowds that use King's Cross at midnight on a Saturday. I'm talking cross-dressers, more drunk people than you could shake a stick at, and potentially some prostitutes. (They may have just been extra skanky girls on the way to the clubs.) A smile finally crossed my face as an irate middle-aged woman stopped in the middle of the station and yelled loudly, "Where the **** is King's Cross?!?!?" To which a nice passerby responded, "You're standing in it, love." She continued ranting to a police officer who was soon joined by a goofy security guard as backup. Needless to say, it was an eventful day. I was beyond relieved to finally crash into my pillow around 1:45am.

Moral of the story, Kelsey gets cranky when tired, hungry, and physically exerted. This could pose a problem tonight as Matthew and I are attending what's known as a the Trinity Hall June Event. Every college in Cambridge celebrates the end of the school year with either a ball or an event during "May Week." (Yes, it is June, but they still call it "May Week.") From what I've gathered, we are in for a dressed-up night of all you can eat/drink and multiple live entertainment acts. With possibly some fireworks mixed in. It starts at 9pm and ends at 3am. Anyway, I'll fill you in more after I experience it for myself. Should be a smashing good time!