October 6/12

Because Geneva’s environs bear some similarities to BC’s lower mainland, it was really hard for me to fully believe I was finally in Switzerland.  Despite the different license plates, the unfamiliar car makes and models, and the unrecognizable stores and businesses, I'd see familiar sights like Esso and Relay, and could have just convinced myself I was in, say, the old city of Quebec City.

I was cognizant that I hadn’t really felt that ‘I’m in Europe’ sensation yet.

Etienne had arranged that we’d spend the day (and evening) in Lausanne with friends of his, so we were up and heading to the train station in downtown Geneva by noon.  Etienne got us tickets on the express train to Morges, which I foolishly assumed was part of Lausanne.  Whatever!  It was my first ride on a real passenger train!  I’ve been on subways, skytrains, and silly little kids’ trains at West Edmonton Mall and Metrotown, but never a real train, which are ubiquitous in Europe, and rare in Canada.  It was a lovely ride; the route goes along Lake Geneva, passing through small cities and rolling countryside with cows and villas speeding past.  But still no sensation.

We arrived in Morges, a beautiful little city on the lake, to meet his friends, Diego and Carolyn.  We exited the train station into a little square, but I’d seen quaint squares before in Mexico, so this was nothing new.

We met with Diego and Carolyn at a beautiful park on the water, which turned out to be the sight of an annual British Classic Car Show!  How delightful!  It turned out that Diego had a car in the show, so we spent the first part of the afternoon wandering through the large show, looking at some truly amazing cars, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of familiarity; despite the presence of a 13^th century castle right in the middle of the park, I looked at the vistas, which could have been mistaken for the vistas from Jericho Beach or Locarno Beach in Vancouver.  And the large trees, water, and mountain views could have been Second Beach in Stanley Park.

We dined al fresco on a charming cobbled street, and I took in the sights and sounds, enjoying the company and conversation of our companions.  Was this the much sought-after ‘sensation’?  Not quite.  But I’m coming to it.

Diego’s show car was a two-seater, and because neither Etienne nor I could drive standard transmission vehicles, we could not volunteer to drive either the show car or their regular car back to Lausanne, so it was decided that Etienne would go with Carolyn in their normal car, and I would go with Diego in the show car.

As it was a classic car, Diego wasn’t keen to take it on the highway, so we took the Rue de Lausanne, the lakeside route that runs along Lake Geneva's Northern shore.  As we drove, Diego pointed out interesting sights and told me about various buildings and parks.  As we cruised by the lake and the IOC headquarters, it hit me…

I’m a passenger in a 1958 Astin Martin convertible roadster, rolling past Lake Geneva in Lausanne, on a gorgeous, warm, sunny October Saturday afternoon…Fuck me!  I’m in Europe!

After parking the car, Diego, Etienne and I set out in the regular car for Montreux, again on the lake road, where we walked along the lakeside promenade and ate Switzerland’s best ice cream.  I saw the large, old hotels with their distinctive yellow awnings, and Freddie Mercury’s statue, and in a distance was Chillon castle at the other end of Lake Geneva.  Yup…I was in Europe.

A 1958 convertible by Lake Geneva…

…Wish you were here.