It was only minutes after Peter called me that Leah and I were comparing flight options. His wedding in Macon gave us the options of either flying into Paris or make our way to France from Geneva. Between the two of us, we had been to Paris several times and found the idea of a new city exciting. We also noticed how close we’d be to the Alps, which quickly inspired a plan to ride our bikes around Mont Blanc after the wedding.
As soon as we left the airport, I was impressed that it only took seven minutes to arrive to the center of the city via train. Seven minutes! I always knew the Japanese did mass transit well, and now I know the Swiss also are deserving of praise. If you’re using this write-up as a guide, be sure to download the SBB app, which works wonderfully.
We stayed at the Hotel Bernina, right across the street from the main station. I rarely put a lot of thought into my lodging, but I was impressed by the value and quality of the hotel for the price we very reasonable price we paid. Everything I read in Tripadvisor’s AI summary tool (which I helped to build!) was spot on.
The first morning, I woke up well rested and before sunrise with the intention of going on a walk. Despite flying in from Seattle, my jet lag was minimal (or hadn’t yet caught up to me). Leah wouldn’t be awake for another few hours, so I slipped out alone.
The primary reason for waking up before sunrise was to walk over to the Bains des Paquis. It’s a long jetty that reaches into Lac Léman (Lake Geneva). Apparently there’s a sauna and bathhouse during the colder months.
The baths have a small fee to enter but I didn’t see anyone there to stop me from walking along the jetty.
I actually woke up this early because I heard there were live concerts at sunrise during the summer. Only now did I realize that Les Aubes Musicales happens only between July 15 and August 18. I was eleven days late to the party.
I watched several people swimming in the calm lake water. The mountains to the north were now softly shaded pink by the time I began walking back from the lighthouse, while the hills to the south were still silhouetted by a deep orange glow.
I walked around the head of the lake across Pont du Mont Blanc, dodging joggers and several cyclists commuting in to an early shift at work. This early hour has always been my favorite time to explore any city. If I wasn’t healing from an injury I’d have been jogging as well to cover more ground.
I made it to the other side of the lake and was lucky to see the sunrise still letting on a spectacular show. All the colors of the morning were gradually pouring out above me as I walked through the Jardin Anglais.
I continued heading east until I found a beach, Baby-Plage, where I played on some swings made of old rubber tires while I watched the rest of the daylight unravel.
It was still too early for breakfast so I headed over to Parc la Grange. It felt like I had the entire park to myself. By this hour, even the morning joggers were heading home to start their day at work. I wandered around for several minutes and only ran into the groundskeeper of Villa La Grange, a historic mansion dating back to the 18th century.
In 1864, the building hosted the closing gala for officials signing the original 1864 Geneva Convention. More recently in June 2021, it was where President Biden and Vladimir Putin met to try and normalize relations. That was eight months before the invasion which escalated the existing conflict.
At 8AM, Chou, the bakery I had in mind was finally open. It was tucked away on a quiet street and I grabbed an outside table to watch the city wake out of its slumber. There were now more cars on the road so I needed to be a bit more mindful when crossing the street for photographs. The cream puffs (pâte à choux) at Chou were the best I’ve ever had. I paired my caramel au beurre salé cream puff with an éclair, not fully appreciating then how good it was until a week later when I’d have a very bad one in Bourg-Saint-Maurice.
I kept my breakfast light and walked some more, taking a circuitous path west, reminding myself to look up every few minutes to admire the architecture. A lot of what I saw reflected the Haussmannian style which I became familiar with in Paris: elegant, uniform stone buildings with iron balconies, grand windows, and mansard roofs.
I was happy to see that La Halle de Rive, a covered market, was already open. The air smelled thickly of cured meats, cheeses, fresh bread, and plenty of other things that looked just as delicious. Much of the activity inside was from shopkeepers setting up for the day and a small handful of people lined up for bread.
I found Fromagerie Bruand and braced myself for a conversation in French. Fortunately, the shop owner was patient and spoke slow enough for me to understand. Based on my request that I wanted something to munch on while walking, he recommended L’Etivaz and told me it was an alpine cow’s milk cheese with some fruity and hazelnut notes. I sampled a bit and instantly agreed it was a winner. He cut up a small portion for me into thin wedges that would make for a perfect walking snack.
A few blocks away was Auer, a chocolate shop that’s been run by a Swiss family for five generations. Apparently U.S. Secretary of State John Kerry was a huge fan and would stop by between diplomacy meetings in Geneva. At over $50 USD for a small box, it was certainly a luxury item.
I returned to my hotel to sample the treats with Leah. These were absolutely incredible, particularly the chocolate-covered nuts. The amandes princesses were roasted almonds covered in caramelized sugar, finally coated with rich chocolate and a soft layer of cocoa powder. I wish I had gotten an entire box of just these. In comparison, the free Lindt chocolate provided in the room tasted like candy you’d give away to children on Halloween.
Leah joined me and we walked through the old town, the historic heart of Geneva. The area is perched on a hill, crossed with narrow and winding streets. It’s home to Cathédrale Saint-Pierre, a Gothic-Romanesque cathedral built in the 12th century and most famous for being a focal point during the Protestant Reformation, led by John Calvin in the 16th century, which left a lasting legacy on the city’s identity, culture, and governance.
We headed in to Maison Tavel, the oldest private home in Geneva that dates back to the 12th century. It’s now a pay-what-you-wish museum covering six floors that capture the story of what it was like living in the region.
We continued wandering to work up an appetite before lunch, getting a peek at the Jet d’Eau from afar. Before becoming an iconic landmark of the city, the water jet was a pressure control solution to the Geneva’s water supply system in 1886. Shortly after, it was later moved to its current location and bolstered up once residents recognized the aesthetic potential for tourism and a monument of Geneva’s identity.
We had lunch at Osteria della Bottega, figuring we should treat ourselves. It was all fine but I wouldn’t ever do it again at that price. The only thing that really sparked our interest us was the olive oil tasting with small pieces of bread.
We continued south towards Parc des Bastions, adjacent to Université de Genève. It’s where you’ll find the The Reformation Wall, honoring key figures of the Protestant Reformation. The monument was carved into the city’s ancient ramparts in 1909, symbolizing Geneva’s role as a stronghold of early Protestantism.
We were less in the mood for sightseeing. It was unusually hot for late August and we grabbed a shaded seat outside at Kiosque des Bastions in the park. We grabbed some cool drinks and lounged while watching the lunch hour unfold. Initially we were impressed at how well dressed the men in Geneva seemed to be on a random weekday. Nearly every man had a tailored shirt and looked like he could be in a fragrance advertisement for Yves Saint Laurent. We realized later we were close to the financial center of the city and these were guys dressed for work. Even still, the fellas were looking sharp.
After waiting for over a half hour to get the check (fortunately we were in no hurry and learned that getting the check takes much longer than we’re used to), we dragged ourselves back into the heat and crossed the milky, glacial-fed Arve River. We were on our way to Carouge, which had a different vibe than the rest of Geneva.
Carouge was originally founded in the 18th century by the King of Sardinia (Victor Amadeus III) after he gave up in his attempts to take over Geneva. He intended to create a prosperous trading town that could rival the more Protestant and austere Geneva by encouraging all faiths and nationalities to settle there, which led to a sizable Catholic and Jewish population. It was absorbed into Geneva after the fall of Napoleon and today is an artsy neighborhood with small artisan shops. We could immediately tell there was a different mood. Carouge’s streets were lined with colorful, low-rise houses, arched windows, and soft pastel tones coating the exterior of the small shops we peered into. No surprise it also goes by the name La Citè Sarde (the Sardinian city).
Leah headed back to the hotel to get ready for a spin class. She was curious what that would be like and told me there was a lot of the instructor yelling “Poussez! Poussez!” to the class. I headed south on the bus towards Salève, a mountain accessible by cable car that would give me a view of the city from above. I’d have a five minute walk across the border into France, but most Geneva residents think of it as their local peak despite that.
From the top, there were hiking trails, sport climbing, or I could have opted to paraglide off the top. I only had a little over an hour, which wasn’t enough time to do any of that in earnest so I just watched and admired the landscape around me until it was time to head back down.
Indian food
We had a dinner of Indian food near the hotel, figuring it was good enough and wouldn’t give us sticker shock. Something we both realized quickly is that Geneva was a very pricey city to dine out in unless you wanted fast food or kebab shops.
Coming from NYC and Seattle, I didn’t expect to do a double-take at the prices. Something to keep in mind is that there isn’t a tipping culture, so you can discount that from the menu price and it helps a little bit.
The next morning, we had a bus to Chamonix at noon. After asking for a late checkout we walked to Othmane Khoris for a leisurely breakfast
The shop looked more like they were selling jewelry than pastries; I could appreciate paying extra for these treats. We grabbed a few boxes of their precious baked goods and walked over to Île Rousseau, a small, lovely island on the Rhône River, which flows out of the lake.
I really enjoyed Geneva and would happily return. The city felt very peaceful and efficient. I only wish I knew where to get an excellent lunch and dinner without overspending, which felt like a research failure on my part. English was readily spoken by many shop owners and locals, but knowing some French made it a lot more enjoyable. I also wish they took the Euro instead of the Swiss Franc, but that was only a minor inconvenience. Looking forward to visiting again!