Geneva - Day 1 🎄

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Is it very early or is it very late? This was the question I asked myself when planning this surprise trip in the now-distant days of the summer.

Being more specific, if I booked a flight from Luton - Geneva at 6:50am, it would entail us ideally arriving to the airport around 5am, necessitating a 3am departure from Norwich. So, taking into account 30 minutes or so to get myself washed, dressed and out of the door, would waking up at 2:30am be the ideal way to approach this (aka the ‘very early’ option), or should I power through and stay awake until it was time to set off (the ‘very late’ option)?

In the end, fate made the decision for me with a lengthy trip to London for work the day prior meaning that I hadn’t got home to my bed until just before midnight on Thursday. With a full Friday at my desk to follow, the idea of getting a sensible amount of sleep definitely seemed the best option to avoid me meeting a sticky end somewhere on the A11. Unfortunately this did mean I had to duck out of my work Christmas festivities early, but getting a good 5 or so hours of rest before a long day of travel and adventure felt like the right choice.

As mentioned at the start of this post, this trip to Switzerland had been booked as a birthday surprise for Ellie, who has always wanted to visit a classic European Christmas Market at this time of year. I’d managed to keep it a secret until 2 weeks ago when I revealed all, and thankfully unlike our destination she was anything but neutral about the adventure we had in store.

Preamble out of the way, this is how Ellie and I found ourselves driving through the night to darkest Bedfordshire on a damp Saturday morning. With almost no-one for company on the roads the journey passed uneventfully, although the last stretch proved as odd an approach as you’ll get to an international airport with Luton seemingly designed to only be accessible from the north and south, with a journey from the east requiring winding journeys through small towns and more roundabouts than I had tolerance for at such an hour.

After visiting in the summer when it was mostly building site, Luton Airport’s mid stay car park still isn’t finished yet. I’m not sure how complicated remodelling a piece of flat land can get but the amount of chain link fences and temporary walkways present suggest it’s not going to be finished anytime soon. Let’s just hope the same people aren’t in charge of the Thickthorn Roundabout remodelling or that Spring 2028 completion date could be very optimistic.

The walk to the terminal was long, cold and windy and security was painfully slow (you might be able to tell I’m not Luton’s biggest fan #stansted4lyf ) but we made it through in reasonable time and had a chance to grab some breakfast from Pret before heading to the gate. Once on board the plane, it soon became apparent that we were probably the only people on board that weren’t heading to Switzerland to go skiing - sorry to go all class war but was absolutely the poshest flight I’d ever been on (my response to Ellie’s query of whether I’d ever been skiing was ‘no, because I’ve never owned a horse’).

All the teenage lads carried the inherent confidence that the rich are seemingly born with, which would suit them in their eventual career choices of either CEO or disgraced Tory MP, and I’m certain that each and every girl on that plane was called Tilly (with perhaps a few Millies thrown for good measure). I managed to resist attempting to seize the means of production by snoozing the 90 mins or so across France and down into Switzerland for our first ever visit to this country.

Although Switzerland isn’t in the EU, it is part of the Schengen area and as such we were rewarded with a one hour wait to get through customs and enter the country. After 60 minutes of cursing that neither of us could conjure up a rogue Irish ancestor that could have got us through the completely empty EU gates, we eventually had our fingerprints scanned, passports stamped and promises to stick to all articles of the Geneva Convention signed (I may have made that last one up) and we were officially en Suisse.

Our first mission was to make our way to the airport train station to make the short hop to Genève Cornavin. This was made easy enough by our hotel including free travel passes as part of our reservation. I’d kept our lodgings a secret from Ellie until we arrived so she was delighted to see that the Hotel Bernina was quite literally opposite the station when we arrived. Although we were too early to check in, the helpful chap at front desk agreed to hold our bags until the afternoon and allow us to gallivant into Geneva unencumbered by luggage, once we’d had a chance to relax in the lobby for a few moments.

We began our wander through the city by crossing one of the many bridges that cover this western tip of Lake Geneva, both remarking on how clear, blue and cold the water looked beneath us. With snowy mountains surrounding the lake on all sides it was a pretty spectacular setting. After crossing the water the cityscape soon transformed from modern glass shopping malls and expensive stores worthy of such a tax haven (definitely more Cartier and Rolex ads here than I’m used to seeing in Norwich) and into Geneva’s pretty but hilly old town.

This area was your classic medieval European town, all winding streets and old fashioned shops - the kind that sell only one thing, e.g. hats and have been in the same location for hundreds of years. We took the time to admire mosaics, cannons and the local cathedral, which strangely seemed almost identical to Norwich Cathedral inside, aside from the statue designated as ‘Chapelle du Rohan’ (thou can take him hot to go).

Outside the cathedral it was a regular party zone with a jolly Swiss brass band entertaining the crowds. The centre of Geneva was exceptionally busy today as there was some kind of ‘Run Geneva’ event on, which made negotiating our way around exceptionally difficult at times with roads either blocked or very difficult to cross. The crowds were pretty intense in place, with everyone watching on seemingly having brought their own cowbell from home and determined to scream ‘ALLEZ! ALLEZ!’ at the top of their lungs.

Feeling quite overwhelmed by the volume of the hordes (in both senses) it was nice to escape back to the shores of the lake for a little peace. We walked east through the Jardin des Anglais and past the Flower Clock, which felt very ‘Disneyland’, towards the Jet D’Eau, the towering fountain which is probably the most famous landmark of Geneva itself. The very matter of fact French naming of it does sum it up quite nicely - it really is just a massive jet of water. After reading the plaque at the end of the jetty that explained this feature had been around since Victorian times and had essentially been created by accident as a means of releasing hydroelectric pressure, we took the slippery wander out to the source of the fountain.

Being the brave/foolish person I am, I managed to get as close as permitted to the fountain despite the warnings that the wind could change the direction of the water, creating the risk of an unexpected soaking. Thankfully the worst I experienced was a light spray and we were soon heading around the lake (via a trail of Christmas trees) in search of a late lunch. We were almost back at the hotel before we spotted a small bakery that offered a good deal for a sandwich, pastry and drink.

Feeling replenished, we were able to return to our lodgings to finally settle into our room and grab a short nap. Well, it was intended to be a short nap but an occupant of the room who shall remain nameless failed to correctly operate the alarm they’d promised to set, leaving us to wake up after the time intended to leave for the Christmas Market. Thankfully it was only a short wander down to the festivities on Quai Mont Blanc and we still had plenty of time to Christmas our faces off.

The market was the traditional setup of small wooden huts selling a variety of foods and crafts, with the normal level of jolly decorations and seated areas for people to enjoy their Vin Chaud or other treats. We started by hunting down the one food stall Ellie had researched in advance, a place where you could buy half-baguettes that had been hollowed out and completely filled with cheese fondue. Apparently it had been quite a hit on social media so it didn’t take us long to locate the line. Although we weren’t hungry when we entered it, I theorised we would be by the time we got to the front. When we did we were presented with an explosive cheesy treat (you had to be careful not to get showered with molten cheese after each bite) which was very delicious, although we were quite glad we’d only had one to share.

Bodyweight now 50% cheese, we strolled around the rest of the market sampling as many wares as our stomachs and my wallet could manage. Hot Pom Pom (aka Mulled Apple) in a souvenir cup, Swiss Chocolate Crepes and the mysteriously billed ‘Tea de Nöel’ were all consumed with a very happy Ellie at my side. As we finished the last of our treats the occasional spots of rain we’d experienced throughout the night turned into quite heavy rain, and with that it was time to make our way back to the hotel.

That’s all from me, I’ll leave you with Ellie to describe tomorrow’s adventure into the mountains.