well i got to Geneva with only one small problem: i got here a day early. after my saga going back to the UK for a weekend in late April only to find it should have been a wknd in late May i am beginning to wonder about myself. maybe i've been travelling for too long and take it all in my stride. in any case i wasn't too bothered and managed to find a cheapish hotel that seemed to merge the 1950's with the 1970's and celebrate the worst of both decades. got to admire that. i was tired, hungry and filthy so staggered into the shower, staggered down the road to a cafe and then staggered back to bed. Geneva seemed quite sedate to me upon first stagger but i decided more investigation might be needed. after a brief sleep (the humidity is quite bad here surprisingly) i wandered round the little streets and cafes and shops. hate to say but it was/is a very generic european capital. i means its all very nice and all but feels very safe, no edge to it. i was just saying that to myself when i went round a corner and bumped straight into some street sex workers in some very tight corsets and boobs that nearly poked me in the eye. maybe some areas were a bit on the edgy side. slipping past Ms Edgy, who clasped her boobs in tight and winked at me, i avoided the cloud of falling mascara and ran down a few streets to have a look at Lake Geneva which was a BIG LAKE. should i have been surprised? not really i guess - the description was all over the packet. i then spent a few hours walking around looking at expensively dressed people practising their best sneers whilst out shopping. in Geneva the buildings are sturdy stone monuments commemorating a time of wealth and privilege, built for the cold and cold they were. there was an air of repression, arrogance, complacency and secrets. And really bad coffee.
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