Steve here again, reporting for Action Flash News.
It was a really pleasant week, sun shone with regularity and the temperature was very mild. We spent the week making various interview arrangements, and in our free time took in a few more of the sights.
On the museum front, we hit up the Patek Phillipe Museum exhibit on 500 years of watchmaking (riveting as a Joan Collins novel, I swear) and the Museum of the Protestant Reformation (a good deal of dark clothing, hellfire and brimstone). Good to know the history of the city, but not entirely bloggable (don’t let me stop you from checking out the websites though:
Patek Phillipe
Museum of the Reformation
Jaren here, for a brief addition to Steve's week in review. On Wednesday, September 27th, it was Steve's (golden) birthday! (For those who don't know about the "golden birthday", it is on the day of the age you're turning. Steve was turning 27, and his birthday is on the 27th.) He opted to spend the day laying low and enjoying the city because he was preparing himself for his big interview the next day--more details to come. I made him Swiss-style chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast. For dinner I took him to Ghandi, the Indian restaurant that our window overlooks, complements of Ann and Greg. Our meal was delicious and service was great too, up until dessert. We completed our entres and expected dessert to arrive shortly thereafter, but 2 hrs and 45 mins later (after asking 2 waiters) only 1 dessert came to the table. By this point, we didn't care and we shared the Indian delicacy and paid. It wasn't until after we paid our second dessert arrived. Regardless, I hope Steve enjoyed his day! I think he did.
As alluded to before, both Jaren and I had job interviews last week. Mine was Thursday morning with one of the global PR firms here. The interview went well and I got an offer to start with some freelance work (of which there is essentially a full time position's worth), and segue into a full time position and certain pieces of business grow.
That said, the woman I interviewed with recommended I speak with some of the other agencies in town first before accepting - its a pretty tight, less competitive community here compared to NYC. Very good meeting though.
Jaren here again to update everyone on my "interview". I emphasize the "interview" because, well, I only had a phone interview. I had scheduled an interview for Friday morning, but after recieving a phone call an hour before and Mina, the Director, could not meet with me becuase another meeting she completely forgot about conflicted, she decided to just have it over the phone. Long story short, I got the job! YEAH! I start late this week. I am considered a "consultant" bureaucratically, but will be functioning as a Research Assistant to a small programme coordinated by UNDP and UNAIDS called AMICAALL - The Alliance of Mayors Initiative for Community Action on AIDS at the Local Level. For more info, click HERE. I am excited for this position because it will be the perfect segue into my role in the Peace Corps.
It was a great week for both Steve and I. To celebrate, we were off to Munich....
Friday, September 29, 2006
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Montreux-September 24, 2006
Having a foggy Saturday on our hands, we decided to take the afternoon and head to Montreaux on the far side of Lac Leman. Departing from Geneva, the train ride is about an hour, and a pleasant ride at that.
A bit of background on Montreaux -- also known as the heart of the Swiss Riviera, Montreaux has long been a vacation destination for Europe's elite. Standing at the train station and looking into the hills, you can see the luxurious chateaus aplenty.
Montreaux is also known for its connection. Each year, the Montreaux Jazz Fest ignites European Jazz lovers with the passion of music. Ok, cheesy, but the place is decorated from head to toe with ironwork art of insturments and musical composition.
Sidebar: One of my (Steve) favorites was the iron score from Deep Purple's "Smoke on the Water." According to rock lore, the lead singer wrote the lyrics to the classic as an ode to Montreaux, of which he was quite fond. Looking at the pictures, you can certainly understand where it comes from.
Well, the city has erected a large iron piece depicting the full note progression of the memorable opening guitar riff. I have a personal fondness for this song because it is one of the few I can whistle through my thumbs. And standing in front of the ode, I did.
Montreaux's other connection to music is that it was the regular vacation home, and final resting place, of Queen's Freddie Mercury. At the heart of the promonade stands a statue of Mercury in full "We are the Champions" glory. Very cool. Check out the full picture archive at here to see.
This is just a simple view down a street in Montreaux. What made this view so extraordinary to me was just how ordinary it actually is over here. Every street has these picturesque buidlings, so natural in their locale but so impressive for a travelling American (or at least me, cause I'm kinda simple like that. Jaren pokes fun of me for it all the time).
Speaking of Jaren, there she is! This was taken from a public park on top of a building in front of the Palace Montreaux hotel. The view was splendid, as were the brass statues of BB King, Ray Charles and longtime Montreaux resident Victor Nabokov ("One of these things is not like the others...")
This was taken from the Chillon castle, which was quite impressive in its 1200 year old condition. As we stood here, about a dozen sky divers made their way in single file flight over the mountains and over us, on a path that seemed to take them to the valley just beyon the lake (technically, where the Jura meet the Alps).
Good day all around.
A bit of background on Montreaux -- also known as the heart of the Swiss Riviera, Montreaux has long been a vacation destination for Europe's elite. Standing at the train station and looking into the hills, you can see the luxurious chateaus aplenty.
Montreaux is also known for its connection. Each year, the Montreaux Jazz Fest ignites European Jazz lovers with the passion of music. Ok, cheesy, but the place is decorated from head to toe with ironwork art of insturments and musical composition.
Sidebar: One of my (Steve) favorites was the iron score from Deep Purple's "Smoke on the Water." According to rock lore, the lead singer wrote the lyrics to the classic as an ode to Montreaux, of which he was quite fond. Looking at the pictures, you can certainly understand where it comes from.
Well, the city has erected a large iron piece depicting the full note progression of the memorable opening guitar riff. I have a personal fondness for this song because it is one of the few I can whistle through my thumbs. And standing in front of the ode, I did.Montreaux's other connection to music is that it was the regular vacation home, and final resting place, of Queen's Freddie Mercury. At the heart of the promonade stands a statue of Mercury in full "We are the Champions" glory. Very cool. Check out the full picture archive at here to see.
This is just a simple view down a street in Montreaux. What made this view so extraordinary to me was just how ordinary it actually is over here. Every street has these picturesque buidlings, so natural in their locale but so impressive for a travelling American (or at least me, cause I'm kinda simple like that. Jaren pokes fun of me for it all the time).
Speaking of Jaren, there she is! This was taken from a public park on top of a building in front of the Palace Montreaux hotel. The view was splendid, as were the brass statues of BB King, Ray Charles and longtime Montreaux resident Victor Nabokov ("One of these things is not like the others...")
This was taken from the Chillon castle, which was quite impressive in its 1200 year old condition. As we stood here, about a dozen sky divers made their way in single file flight over the mountains and over us, on a path that seemed to take them to the valley just beyon the lake (technically, where the Jura meet the Alps).
Good day all around.
Saturday, September 23, 2006
A bike excursion-September 22, 2006
It was a beautiful sunny Friday morning and Steve and I decided to rent deux velos, or bicycles for the day. Steve did some research on "Anglo Info"--an English website that lists all the events going on (and around) Geneva. We figured we should ride
our bikes into the country side and stop by a local market and load up on some fresh produce. Our destination for the day--Collogne-Bellerive. We hopped on our bikes and we were off.
Here we are on our bikes:
As you can see we are next to a vineyard...and of course Steve hopped off his bike to snatch a few grapes off the vine. Delicious!
We made it to the market, but we were still energized. We decided to ride to the end of the Swiss border to the small town, Hermance.
Here is Hermance. This top picture is of the fortress that still remains. The below picture illustrates the wealth of the neighborhood (and how lucky these people are to have such a lovely view of Lac Leman and the Juras).
After riding through Hermance, we headed back to the market. There I practiced my french and bought us our groceries for the week.
For more pictures, check out: http://homepage.mac.com/stephen.schwartz/Europe/PhotoAlbum14.html
our bikes into the country side and stop by a local market and load up on some fresh produce. Our destination for the day--Collogne-Bellerive. We hopped on our bikes and we were off.
Here we are on our bikes:
As you can see we are next to a vineyard...and of course Steve hopped off his bike to snatch a few grapes off the vine. Delicious!
We made it to the market, but we were still energized. We decided to ride to the end of the Swiss border to the small town, Hermance.
Here is Hermance. This top picture is of the fortress that still remains. The below picture illustrates the wealth of the neighborhood (and how lucky these people are to have such a lovely view of Lac Leman and the Juras).
After riding through Hermance, we headed back to the market. There I practiced my french and bought us our groceries for the week.
For more pictures, check out: http://homepage.mac.com/stephen.schwartz/Europe/PhotoAlbum14.html
Friday, September 22, 2006
Drama, Drama--September 22, 2006
Steve here again, with the latest installment of the Geneva saga. After getting settled, we encountered certain problems that everyone faces when moving into a new home – how to get into it on a regular basis, and how to make contact with the outside world.
“Key to my heart (and my shirts)”
The keys, or les cleys (ou un clef) a Francis, was a real head scratcher. Once you see them, you’ll understand. See. Yeah, not exactly your average Yale-brand lock. It’s the kind of thing where if we lose it, no one is getting in for 200 years.
So we hunted around for a locksmith to make a copy, eventually stumbling on Clee Cite behind the train station. The locksmith (who, as an aside, was the absolute spitting image of Disney’s Geppetto), took a look and explained to ass that this was a very unusual key as it was 2 cm longer than most common stock. So not only were we going to have to find someone to make an artisan key replica, but we were going to have to find one who specialized in peciulularly sized ones. Marvelous.
After two days of inquiring with every locksmith in the Paqui (our neighborhood), we eventually found a place that specialized in state of the art locking mechanisms that happened to have an unusually large backstock, and a key was born.
“Reach Out and Touch Someone”
In the 21st Century, two media dominate interpersonal communication – the mobile phone and email. The latter proved to be far less of a problem than anticipated, although the solution may result in someone accidentally receiving an order of Chana Maasala and Naan instead of an email.
Having just come from New York, our first instinct vis-à-vis internet service was to walk around our apartment with my laptop and find someone’s wireless to sponge off of. We were not having much luck in the kitchen, bathroom (you’d be surprised how useful it actually is) and bedroom until we got up close to our front window. There popped up a feed called “Gandhi,” which was not-so-coincidentally the name of the Indian restaurant across the street. We locked on and popped out a few “Hi, we’re here” emails to our folks, and then went about the business of unpacking.
Later that night, while watching the outdoor seating area at this very popular and fabulous smelling eatery across the street, we noticed all the waiters were taking orders on little tablet PCs. So yeah, we’re sponging internet off the ordering system at an Indian restaurant, a move that reeks of desperation (and curry).
The phones, on the other hand, were not as easy to sort out. A bit of background: Jaren and I both studied in England at various points (coincidentally, at the same time). At the time we both bought mobile phones with local numers and in both cases we were promised that they were onlocked and open for different European SIM cards.
Well, on arriving in Geneva, Jaren plugged in her phone and nothing happened. Dead. Tot. Kaput. Mine charged, but my English SIM didn’t pick up. We found an Orange store (my English service provider with a large continental presence), however everytime we went in, the place was crowded and we got a bit, um, overwhelmed (we got the palsy, ok. It’s not politically correct, but its true).
Finally, we got in to speak to a rep and turns out, the salesman in England lied to my face. The jerk told me at the time that my phone would work in the US (it would, but no US company used SIM cards at the time except TMobile, and they weren’t around in Boston then), but he also told me that my phone was unlocked and open to any European card. Well, if I ever see that little SOB again, I’ve got ol’ Jack Johnson and Tom O’Leary ready to drop two on the kisser (points for movie recognition).
In the end, we ended up going to a local provider and getting a pretty good deal on starter phones and a basic plan. So, with that in mind, anyone who wants to call or text us from stateside can use the following numbers:
Jaren: +41 (0)78 621 5933
Steve: +41 (0)78 621 0886
And for the record, here they are…
“Key to my heart (and my shirts)”The keys, or les cleys (ou un clef) a Francis, was a real head scratcher. Once you see them, you’ll understand. See. Yeah, not exactly your average Yale-brand lock. It’s the kind of thing where if we lose it, no one is getting in for 200 years.
So we hunted around for a locksmith to make a copy, eventually stumbling on Clee Cite behind the train station. The locksmith (who, as an aside, was the absolute spitting image of Disney’s Geppetto), took a look and explained to ass that this was a very unusual key as it was 2 cm longer than most common stock. So not only were we going to have to find someone to make an artisan key replica, but we were going to have to find one who specialized in peciulularly sized ones. Marvelous.
After two days of inquiring with every locksmith in the Paqui (our neighborhood), we eventually found a place that specialized in state of the art locking mechanisms that happened to have an unusually large backstock, and a key was born.
“Reach Out and Touch Someone”
In the 21st Century, two media dominate interpersonal communication – the mobile phone and email. The latter proved to be far less of a problem than anticipated, although the solution may result in someone accidentally receiving an order of Chana Maasala and Naan instead of an email.
Having just come from New York, our first instinct vis-à-vis internet service was to walk around our apartment with my laptop and find someone’s wireless to sponge off of. We were not having much luck in the kitchen, bathroom (you’d be surprised how useful it actually is) and bedroom until we got up close to our front window. There popped up a feed called “Gandhi,” which was not-so-coincidentally the name of the Indian restaurant across the street. We locked on and popped out a few “Hi, we’re here” emails to our folks, and then went about the business of unpacking.
Later that night, while watching the outdoor seating area at this very popular and fabulous smelling eatery across the street, we noticed all the waiters were taking orders on little tablet PCs. So yeah, we’re sponging internet off the ordering system at an Indian restaurant, a move that reeks of desperation (and curry).
The phones, on the other hand, were not as easy to sort out. A bit of background: Jaren and I both studied in England at various points (coincidentally, at the same time). At the time we both bought mobile phones with local numers and in both cases we were promised that they were onlocked and open for different European SIM cards.
Well, on arriving in Geneva, Jaren plugged in her phone and nothing happened. Dead. Tot. Kaput. Mine charged, but my English SIM didn’t pick up. We found an Orange store (my English service provider with a large continental presence), however everytime we went in, the place was crowded and we got a bit, um, overwhelmed (we got the palsy, ok. It’s not politically correct, but its true).
Finally, we got in to speak to a rep and turns out, the salesman in England lied to my face. The jerk told me at the time that my phone would work in the US (it would, but no US company used SIM cards at the time except TMobile, and they weren’t around in Boston then), but he also told me that my phone was unlocked and open to any European card. Well, if I ever see that little SOB again, I’ve got ol’ Jack Johnson and Tom O’Leary ready to drop two on the kisser (points for movie recognition).
In the end, we ended up going to a local provider and getting a pretty good deal on starter phones and a basic plan. So, with that in mind, anyone who wants to call or text us from stateside can use the following numbers:
Jaren: +41 (0)78 621 5933
Steve: +41 (0)78 621 0886
And for the record, here they are…
Geneva, the city-September 20, 2006
After 14 hours of rest, I took Steve on a brief tour of the city. We hit the major site-seeing places.
In Steve's words:
Geneva is just a splendid place, and the comparison we keep coming back to is that its European Boston. The size, the feel, the makeup of the populous, it just feels right.
The lake is spectacular, just crystal clear (to the point where I keep looking just to make sure I’m not hallucinating. From what we’ve seen so far, its also a fully functioning recreation source with swimming, sailing (Dad, you’re going to love this), water skiing (Tichys, you’re going to love this) and fishing.
The mountains are equally as brilliant. There are a few smaller one immediately circling the area, and between them you can see some majestic snow-covered peaks in the distance.
Like any old European city, the place is dripping with history. In this case, the big defining event seems to be the Reformation, and everything is classified into pre- and post-.
Old town:
St. Pierre's Cathedral, from the front. This was the focal point of old town.
Old cannons that were used to protect the outer walls of the city (in old town).
The steaple of the cathedral.
Down near the lake. We are on the right side of the lake, near the parc mon-repos.
See how crystal clear the water is? Beautiful, eh?
The clock with jet d'eau in the distance.
This is up near the UN area. This is one of the old buildings that now houses a museum.
The UN.
The International Red Cross (Le Croix Rouge)
And finally, the jet d'eau. This has been the landmark Steve uses to know where he is in the city. It isn't hard to spot the 300 meters of spouting water.
I hope this gives you an idea of the city. More to come in the next few days!
In Steve's words:
Geneva is just a splendid place, and the comparison we keep coming back to is that its European Boston. The size, the feel, the makeup of the populous, it just feels right.
The lake is spectacular, just crystal clear (to the point where I keep looking just to make sure I’m not hallucinating. From what we’ve seen so far, its also a fully functioning recreation source with swimming, sailing (Dad, you’re going to love this), water skiing (Tichys, you’re going to love this) and fishing.
The mountains are equally as brilliant. There are a few smaller one immediately circling the area, and between them you can see some majestic snow-covered peaks in the distance.
Like any old European city, the place is dripping with history. In this case, the big defining event seems to be the Reformation, and everything is classified into pre- and post-.
Old town:
St. Pierre's Cathedral, from the front. This was the focal point of old town.
Old cannons that were used to protect the outer walls of the city (in old town).
The steaple of the cathedral.
Down near the lake. We are on the right side of the lake, near the parc mon-repos.
See how crystal clear the water is? Beautiful, eh?
The clock with jet d'eau in the distance.
This is up near the UN area. This is one of the old buildings that now houses a museum.
The UN.
The International Red Cross (Le Croix Rouge)
And finally, the jet d'eau. This has been the landmark Steve uses to know where he is in the city. It isn't hard to spot the 300 meters of spouting water.
I hope this gives you an idea of the city. More to come in the next few days!
Thursday, September 21, 2006
And the adventure begins/Bienvenue a Geneve--September 19, 2006
Regular readers of jarent.blogspot.com will recognize our new guest contributor Steve. You may remember him from such posts as “Packing for our next adventure(s),” Fun on the lake,” and “Big News: We’re Engaged!” Steve will be contributing off and on over the next few months in addition to Jaren’s regular updates.
The Flight (or rather, the flights)
It wasn’t supposed to be this bad. Our original tickets had us flying from Syracuse to DC, give us a two hour layover at Dullas, and then fly to London. Once at London Heathrow we were going to spend a day -- more accurately 30 hours – playing tourist and then flying out of London Gatwick to Geneva. Jaren was getting fired up for some fish and chips, and I had my sights set on a pint or two, sounded nice -- in theory.
The trouble started at lovely Hancock International Airport in Syracuse (by international, I mean they fly the 45 minutes to Toronto). Our original flight was cancelled due to a mechanical failure. Fine, I’d rather not be flying on a bum plane. But that little flight was the root of our problems.
The next flight out of Syracuse put us in DC two hours after our flight to London took off, and the next flight with open seats was the following day at 6PM. Well that just wouldn’t do, because that flight to London put us at Heathrow at 6:30 AM, giving us about three and a half hours to through customs (conservatively an hour and a half) and across London to Gatwick (another hour and a half) during morning rush hour (check that, two and a half hours). Clearly this wasn’t happening.
We inquired in Syracuse about alternative routes, departing out of NYC, DC, Boston, Toronto, Philly… essentially anywhere on the northeast corridor that flew to London. Complicating matters, the young lady behind the counter could only have cared less if she was dead (for the record, we were flying United. That’s U-N-I-T-E-D. No wonder they’re still in Chapter 11). Instead of problem solving, she just gave us a myriad of excuses and a “Tough Noogies” attitude.
Finally we decided we were better off taking our chances with a customer service rep in DC. This was a blessing and a curse, as our flight now left at 9PM and arrived in DC at 11PM. The blessing was that the two hour delay gave Jaren a chance to catch up with family and me a chance to watch the end of the Patriots-Jets game, the last football I’ll be watching for some time. The curse, however, was that the airport bar in Syracuse closed at 7:30 (I know, Podunk). We mainly spent the last hour and a half entertaining ourselves with the abbreviations in the personals section of the free independent newspaper.
Flash forward two hours to the customer service counter at Dullas Airport in DC. We were clearly not the only ones who had their itineraries screwed up, and ended up waiting in line for another hour. After finally getting to the counter, we were helped by a far more useful (seemingly useful, that is) member of the United workforce. As far as troubleshooting out flight dilemma, she informed us that there was also a morning flight to London, however it was already oversold and standby would be a waste of time, leaving only the 6PM which wasn’t going to work. After explaining the London-Geneva link on another carrier, she opened up the possibility of the airline flying us directly to Geneva in lieu of reimbursing us for our London hotel and missed flight. A zero sum game in our eyes, we jumped at the chance. She identified a flight to Frankfurt the next afternoon, where we could then connect to Geneva.
On the airline’s nickel, we headed to the Washington Dullas Hyatt, reasonably assured that we would be going to Geneva via Frankfurt the next day. The Hyatt folks were great (really), and even had the chef whip up cheeseburgers and chicken sandwiches for us to blow our airline vouchers on. Jaren even gave up the last chicken sandwich for the Indian guy who would have otherwise gone hungry – somebody raised that girl right. Smart too, as she wondered aloud “For all the money United is losing on hotel and meal vouchers, wouldn’t it just be cheaper to keep the planes in working order?”
Monday morning, and after a sleep and a shower, we were back at Dullas at 8:30AM. After being passed off by a few agents, we ended up at the counter of Jean Jacques Franz, a.k.a. our night in shining armor. He heard our story and after a quick consult with his supervisor decided that the cost of reimbursing us for our hotel, missed flight, and roundtrip shuttle to Gatwick (assuming we missed the flight, we were going back to Heathrow) and replacement ticket, it would just be cheaper to get us there. However, Frankfurt was no longer in play, and after about a half hour of various flight permutations, we were heading to Zurich at 6PM and connecting to Geneva.
At this point, you may be asking yourself “Wait, your flight is at 6PM and its only 9:15AM, that’s a very big time gap, eh?” (ok, the eh was added for the Canadians). Not wanting to risk another missed flight, one for which we would have no excuse for, we decided to forgo a sojourn into DC proper and instead stays at the airport all day. So we took a long walk through the short terminals, rode a few very odd people movers, had a LONG lunch, tried an ultimately failed fantasy football trade with a player who shall remain nameless, taught Jaren to play Gin Rummy (Jaren taught Steve to play va pecher—that’s go fish en francais) and caught up with some family.
Ultimately, we killed enough time and they let us on the plane. Fairly uneventful flight, got to watch a few movies (X-Men 3 was a disappointment, Over the Hedge was ok, and I will have to agree with my sister that An Inconvienent Truth was half documentary and half annoying campaign commercial). Zurich was a breeze, and the flight to Geneva was an up and down. I did get my first taste of Swiss chocolate on the latter flight, and I can say it was so rich and sweet, it actually made my fillings hurt.
But we made it. After 45 some odd hours in transit we made it. As I write this, I still can only vaguely figure what day it is – Monday sort of never happened for us. But we’re here, our new home.
The Apartment
After the travel mess, having an apartment to come to instead of a hostel was a big plus. Flashback: Back in July, Jaren started looking for a sublet in every possible nook and cranny of the internet. We found a few that sounded ok, nothing that was immediately exciting, and one that lead us to one very emotionally unstable girl. After getting a forward from an old classmate of our friend Laure (coincidentially, a woman who took a class from my Uncle Morrie at the University of Minnesota last year), we were turned onto a University of Geneva housing board, which ultimately led us to Manuel and his apartment.
The only problem was that with all of our new flights, we were in Geneva about 6 hours early, and Manu’s neighbor with the keys was not around. We walked the 4 blocks to the apartment from the train station, but nothing. Jaren knew of a hostel nearby where we could rent a locker, and so we dragged our bags a good 8-10 blocks, fighting exhaustion the whole way (we later found out we could have rented a locker at the train station and saved ourselves some physical stress).
After a few hours, Jaren was able to reach the neighbor and we got in. We laid down our bags, and then breaking the cardinal rule of travel, we laid down are heads for an hour.
Pictures of the Apartment
Main Room
Fairly straight forward, heavy emphasis on the stereo and speakers. Judging from the posters on the wall (Coltraine, Femi Kuti, Charlie Parker) and books, Manu is a musician. What is absent, for better or worse, is a TV – not that I could understand it anyway. I think we’ll be ok though, might just have to read a book or something.
View from Window
This is the church across the street. Directly across from it is a primary school.
Salle de Bains (Bathroom to the rest of us)
Your eyes are not deceiving you, the tub basin is about the size of a stall shower base, however the shower head is suspended at two and a half feet above drain. For the first minute I was bone dry from the waist up.
The water pressure is an equal challenge, as my first shower with an unattached head resulted in me blowing the shower curtains off and drenching the bathroom. Another one of those panicked moments where you can’t stop giggling because you know it would look hysterical.
Kitchen
No real surprises, although everything is still very small. That, and I will have no hair left on my knuckles by the end of the week as the gas stove has no electric ignitor, just a Bic lighter nearby. And for those who know me – yes, I turn off the main gas line after every use so I will not be blowing us up anytime soon.
Oh, and Jaren assures me that the water running out of our taps is Evian, which is just up the road.
The Flight (or rather, the flights)
It wasn’t supposed to be this bad. Our original tickets had us flying from Syracuse to DC, give us a two hour layover at Dullas, and then fly to London. Once at London Heathrow we were going to spend a day -- more accurately 30 hours – playing tourist and then flying out of London Gatwick to Geneva. Jaren was getting fired up for some fish and chips, and I had my sights set on a pint or two, sounded nice -- in theory.
The trouble started at lovely Hancock International Airport in Syracuse (by international, I mean they fly the 45 minutes to Toronto). Our original flight was cancelled due to a mechanical failure. Fine, I’d rather not be flying on a bum plane. But that little flight was the root of our problems.
The next flight out of Syracuse put us in DC two hours after our flight to London took off, and the next flight with open seats was the following day at 6PM. Well that just wouldn’t do, because that flight to London put us at Heathrow at 6:30 AM, giving us about three and a half hours to through customs (conservatively an hour and a half) and across London to Gatwick (another hour and a half) during morning rush hour (check that, two and a half hours). Clearly this wasn’t happening.
We inquired in Syracuse about alternative routes, departing out of NYC, DC, Boston, Toronto, Philly… essentially anywhere on the northeast corridor that flew to London. Complicating matters, the young lady behind the counter could only have cared less if she was dead (for the record, we were flying United. That’s U-N-I-T-E-D. No wonder they’re still in Chapter 11). Instead of problem solving, she just gave us a myriad of excuses and a “Tough Noogies” attitude.
Finally we decided we were better off taking our chances with a customer service rep in DC. This was a blessing and a curse, as our flight now left at 9PM and arrived in DC at 11PM. The blessing was that the two hour delay gave Jaren a chance to catch up with family and me a chance to watch the end of the Patriots-Jets game, the last football I’ll be watching for some time. The curse, however, was that the airport bar in Syracuse closed at 7:30 (I know, Podunk). We mainly spent the last hour and a half entertaining ourselves with the abbreviations in the personals section of the free independent newspaper.
Flash forward two hours to the customer service counter at Dullas Airport in DC. We were clearly not the only ones who had their itineraries screwed up, and ended up waiting in line for another hour. After finally getting to the counter, we were helped by a far more useful (seemingly useful, that is) member of the United workforce. As far as troubleshooting out flight dilemma, she informed us that there was also a morning flight to London, however it was already oversold and standby would be a waste of time, leaving only the 6PM which wasn’t going to work. After explaining the London-Geneva link on another carrier, she opened up the possibility of the airline flying us directly to Geneva in lieu of reimbursing us for our London hotel and missed flight. A zero sum game in our eyes, we jumped at the chance. She identified a flight to Frankfurt the next afternoon, where we could then connect to Geneva.
On the airline’s nickel, we headed to the Washington Dullas Hyatt, reasonably assured that we would be going to Geneva via Frankfurt the next day. The Hyatt folks were great (really), and even had the chef whip up cheeseburgers and chicken sandwiches for us to blow our airline vouchers on. Jaren even gave up the last chicken sandwich for the Indian guy who would have otherwise gone hungry – somebody raised that girl right. Smart too, as she wondered aloud “For all the money United is losing on hotel and meal vouchers, wouldn’t it just be cheaper to keep the planes in working order?”
Monday morning, and after a sleep and a shower, we were back at Dullas at 8:30AM. After being passed off by a few agents, we ended up at the counter of Jean Jacques Franz, a.k.a. our night in shining armor. He heard our story and after a quick consult with his supervisor decided that the cost of reimbursing us for our hotel, missed flight, and roundtrip shuttle to Gatwick (assuming we missed the flight, we were going back to Heathrow) and replacement ticket, it would just be cheaper to get us there. However, Frankfurt was no longer in play, and after about a half hour of various flight permutations, we were heading to Zurich at 6PM and connecting to Geneva.
At this point, you may be asking yourself “Wait, your flight is at 6PM and its only 9:15AM, that’s a very big time gap, eh?” (ok, the eh was added for the Canadians). Not wanting to risk another missed flight, one for which we would have no excuse for, we decided to forgo a sojourn into DC proper and instead stays at the airport all day. So we took a long walk through the short terminals, rode a few very odd people movers
Ultimately, we killed enough time and they let us on the plane. Fairly uneventful flight, got to watch a few movies (X-Men 3 was a disappointment, Over the Hedge was ok, and I will have to agree with my sister that An Inconvienent Truth was half documentary and half annoying campaign commercial). Zurich was a breeze, and the flight to Geneva was an up and down. I did get my first taste of Swiss chocolate on the latter flight, and I can say it was so rich and sweet, it actually made my fillings hurt.
But we made it. After 45 some odd hours in transit we made it. As I write this, I still can only vaguely figure what day it is – Monday sort of never happened for us. But we’re here, our new home.
The Apartment
After the travel mess, having an apartment to come to instead of a hostel was a big plus. Flashback: Back in July, Jaren started looking for a sublet in every possible nook and cranny of the internet. We found a few that sounded ok, nothing that was immediately exciting, and one that lead us to one very emotionally unstable girl. After getting a forward from an old classmate of our friend Laure (coincidentially, a woman who took a class from my Uncle Morrie at the University of Minnesota last year), we were turned onto a University of Geneva housing board, which ultimately led us to Manuel and his apartment.
The only problem was that with all of our new flights, we were in Geneva about 6 hours early, and Manu’s neighbor with the keys was not around. We walked the 4 blocks to the apartment from the train station, but nothing. Jaren knew of a hostel nearby where we could rent a locker, and so we dragged our bags a good 8-10 blocks, fighting exhaustion the whole way (we later found out we could have rented a locker at the train station and saved ourselves some physical stress).
After a few hours, Jaren was able to reach the neighbor and we got in. We laid down our bags, and then breaking the cardinal rule of travel, we laid down are heads for an hour.
Pictures of the Apartment
Main RoomFairly straight forward, heavy emphasis on the stereo and speakers. Judging from the posters on the wall (Coltraine, Femi Kuti, Charlie Parker) and books, Manu is a musician. What is absent, for better or worse, is a TV – not that I could understand it anyway. I think we’ll be ok though, might just have to read a book or something.
View from Window
This is the church across the street. Directly across from it is a primary school.
Salle de Bains (Bathroom to the rest of us)Your eyes are not deceiving you, the tub basin is about the size of a stall shower base, however the shower head is suspended at two and a half feet above drain. For the first minute I was bone dry from the waist up.
The water pressure is an equal challenge, as my first shower with an unattached head resulted in me blowing the shower curtains off and drenching the bathroom. Another one of those panicked moments where you can’t stop giggling because you know it would look hysterical.
KitchenNo real surprises, although everything is still very small. That, and I will have no hair left on my knuckles by the end of the week as the gas stove has no electric ignitor, just a Bic lighter nearby. And for those who know me – yes, I turn off the main gas line after every use so I will not be blowing us up anytime soon.
Oh, and Jaren assures me that the water running out of our taps is Evian, which is just up the road.
A Genevoise cafe experience, sort of--September 21, 2006
We were on the hunt for a cafe to sit down, sip on a cafe and experience the Genevoise cafe lifestyle. The previous day we stumbled across a Starbucks of all places. As we walked and talked about the ideal setting we were looking for, like any other "connected Americans," we wanted to sponge the internet. We figured Starbucks would be the best place for us to sponge internet and get a descent cup o joe. (The two of us had a continuous headhache since our arrival because of the difficulty we had making coffee in the morning--we only had one of those Itlian stainless steel ity-bity fancy espresso makers). We got in line, ordered our drinks (of course the drinks were all in english--though they didn't make any iced coffee). We were told the total and both of us gasped--CHF 12. YES, that is correct. That is roughly spending $10 on 2 grande iced americanos. Here's the evidence. We will NOT be going back there anytime soon, that's for sure. 
Saturday, September 16, 2006
Packing for our next adventure(s)--September 16, 2006
As you can see, packing is slowing coming along. Steve and I had to go through all of our belongings to pack for not only Geneva, but our return trip to Geneva (after we return state side for me to run the NYC marathon in November), the Peace Corps (departing July '07) and our stuff that we won't need for 3 years. Needless to say we've been busy organizing.
We promise Barb that we will leave the room spotless!
Friday, September 15, 2006
Long run/marathon training--September 15, 2006
Today I went for a long run for my marathon training. I was scheduled to run 20 miles, but somehow ended up running 22.5 miles!!! My route was along the old towpath of the Erie Canal. Yes folks, this picture is of the old Erie Canal.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Quick walk-about--September 12, 2006
Steve and I took a break from making our "save the dates" and went on a little hike. He took me to Pratt Falls. It was about a mile stroll through the woods before seeing the base of the falls. Beautiful, aren't they?
Sunday, September 10, 2006
Homeless for now--August 31-September 17, 2006
Well, it's official. Steve and I are no longer living in NYC. In fact, we are homeless at the moment until we move into our temporary flat in Geneva (32, rue Zurich).
Moving day:
Our entire lives in a Durango....
Moving day:
Our entire lives in a Durango....
Yes, that's right. This is the vehicle we used to move our belongings up to Syracuse. We were suppose to have a minivan, but Hertz did not have any available at the time we requested the car. But, Steve improvised as you can see ( 3 feet of our stuff on top of the car. The box spring makes for a great holder). It took us 6 1/2 hours to get up to Syracuse when it usually takes about 3 1/2. And, I got to sit with a tree in front of me during the entire time. It was like I was in a jungle. Oh the joys of moving.
For now, we are spending time with our families on both sides of the coast (and in between). For labor day weekend we went to Columbus, OH to spend time with Gandma 'Nette. We shopped at Nordstrom, watched Buckeye football, and ate french toast (as well as other delicious Gandma 'Nette delectables).
From Columbus, we continued west to Liberty Lake where the Tichy family reunited for the first time since Christmas. For (less than) one day, Annie had all her kids home. We had a big picnic with Greg's ribs...yum, yum. Steve and I stayed a few extra days at Liberty Lake and relaxed. Our days consisted of water skiing, eating Greg's food and drinking granitas.
*Click here to see pictures from our time at Liberty Lake*
Now Steve and I are in the 'Cuse (that's Syracuse for those who don't know) for a week before we take off for Geneva. Our time will be spent making our "Save the Dates", packing our backpacks for our great adventure and hanging out with friends and family.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Fun on the lake--September 1-7, 2006
Here are just a few pictures of us having fun on the lake:
Darek and Jadyn pushing off (Darek is my Polish brother)
Darek and Jadyn pushing off (Darek is my Polish brother)
Steve, Jess and Jobe in the bow of the boat. What a beautiful day. I do believe they are watching me ski...I'm the Shiznit!
And here I am...
Post-ski break. Annie swings by on her jet ski to say "Hi".
And now it was Steve's turn to show off...and he was up on 1 ski on his very first try. AMAZING.
and look, here he is crossing the wake. AWESOME!
High-five Steve!
"Boo yeah!" "I'm the shit"
Jessamyn's turn to show off. I must say, she does have a nice spray.
Jobe getting ready. Jadyn's giving him a "pep talk". Living in Hawaii has made the Liberty Lake water feel like glacier water to him...freezing. He's become a bit of a whimp, but he still went in the water.
I will say this, he is somewhat of a pro skier. NICE.
Jobe's thing this weekend was to flash his crack. I don't think any of us really wanted to see your ass crack Jobe. Buy a pair of shorts that fit or gain some weight. It may be cool in Hawaii while surfing, but it is not cool in Liberty Lake while skiing.
Ah, the Tichy kids. And of course I'm the short one in front.
Mommy and me.
Jadyn, Jaren and Steve fishing as the sun sets. Another great day on the lake. Though none of us caught any fish this go around. Maybe next time during Fishing Derby No. 3.
Greg and Steve with the beer can chicken and roasted veggies...delicious job boys!
That is what we did in a nutshell.
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