My Travel Adventures

Towards the end of September and beginning of October, many Swiss villages celebrate a tradition known as the Désalpe (or Alpabzug in German-speaking Switzerland and Almabtrieb in Germany and Austria). The tradition celebrates the return of the cows from their summer pastures in the mountains: the more touristy Swiss villages deck out their cows in towering flower crowns and put on shows to fill in the time between the descent of various herds. In Saint-Cergue, for example, the entertainment during these pauses was provided by alpenhorn players, yodelling choristers, an orchestra band, and a singular man cracking his long, supersonic cow whip. There were also two other processions: one composed of cart-dragging Saint Bernards, and another one of men carrying cowbells.

I rarely explore different public transport options in the cities I visit, preferring to travel everywhere by foot. I think I developed this habit in places where I did not understand the local language and where the threat of getting lost seemed much more real and potent. There was something about Lyon’s public transport system, however, that won me over. Accidentally walking into Perrache Station yesterday, I noticed the shallow tram channel, the unthreatening walk across the tracks, and the simple turnstiles behind which the metro zoomed to and fro, turning transfers into a matter of seconds. Enamoured with the ease of everything, I bought a 48 hour all purpose ticket for the entire city.

For a normal person, a trip from Ferney-Voltaire to Dijon might take about three and a half hours on a good day. I, however, am an anxious anchovy, and connecting times below ten minutes scare me. I would much rather wait at a train station for twenty minutes than fret about having to buy tickets and find the right platform in the time it takes to boil an egg.

Today was a short day, as I had to get back to Geneva for my job. We managed to finish our supply of cheese, fruit, and juice in the morning, which made me very proud of our planning skills. We packed up and, leaving a few things at our Airbnb to pick up later, made our way into the city for one last time. Our first destination lay to the north: the Church of Joan of Arc. A highly original and controversial building, it is sometimes referred to as “the Meringue” for its colour and shape; the church is built of reinforced concrete, its tall spire piercing the sky above a collection of white domes.

As I found out while perusing Google Maps, the French Riviera is a real hotspot for the visual arts. The area boasts a museum each dedicated to Matisse, Chagall, Renoir, and Léger, and two dedicated to Picasso. Choosing between them was difficult, but we eventually decided to see Renoir in Cagnes-sur-Mer, as the city is easily reachable by train, and we had not been there yet.

This morning, we left Nice for another day trip, this time to Cannes. The train took some 40 minutes and dropped us off in the very centre of town. Instead of strolling around, however, we made a beeline to the esplanade and followed it to the port.

Today is Jeûne Genevois, a Genevan holiday thanks to which I have received a long weekend at work. To make good use of it, I decided to meet up with Johnny in Nice and spend four days along the French coast. Had I known how hot it would be, perhaps I would have put off this adventure for a later month, but there is little I can do about it now besides sweating, hydrating, and complaining. I arrived on the evening of the sixth, having left my suit and dress shoes in the office and having changed into more leisurely apparel for the flight. Together with Johnny, we made our way to our accommodation, which was some twenty minutes from the airport. Much of the surrounding area is connected by a single trainline, which makes transportation very convenient.

I arrived in Geneva a few days ago to begin my traineeship at the EU delegation to the WTO. I am sure there are a few interesting things to see and do in the city, but with summer drawing its last few breaths, I placed my priorities elsewhere. September is when, after a summer of growing a ripening, the grapes planted on the vineyards above Lake Geneva are finally fit for harvest. Thus, it is a perfect time for hikes along the path snaking its way through Lavaux, one of Switzerland’s most scenic wine regions.