Sunday - Day 2
Day one you ask? Well after barely sleeping on the plane, day 1 is a hazy memory. I landed in Geneva, breezed through customs, found John, and we managed to make it to the hotel with only a slight bit of dumb American confusion. James met us in the hotel lobby during an awkward conversation with the front desk. We went up to the room and then to the panoramic roof for breakfast where I made the difficult decision to not sleep and just make it to the night in an attempt to dispell my horrible jetlag in one fell swoop. Talk about a test of endurance. After breakfast, we walked around taking photos near the lake, then met up with their Swiss friend Sandrine who treated us to some Poulet in Old Town. Mayo and mustard come in squeezable tubes. After the food coma set in, I made the even more difficult decision to continue. my marathon and go shopping. This part effin sucked as we found ourselves on the 5th avenue of Geneva during holiday shopping season. On a Saturday. The crank was setting in. After practically running out of there, we went to a microbrewery called the Brasserie, drinking their freshly brewed ale (hooray beer) called something du lion, passing the time until Sandrine's wine and cheese party. Her apartment was gorgeous. And while that's not an uncommon thing for a new yorker to think while outside of their own dingy little shack, it really was, and nicely dercorated as well.
I finally got a second wind here which was well timed (maybe all those party weekends years ago were good for something), as Sandrine's friend were all stupid friendly. It was a mix of swiss and italians, but they all spoke english thankfully since my knowledge of French doesn't go much beyond hello and thanks. Sadly I forget most of their names, but the wonderful little girl Margot was sooo cute. Just about 2 yrs old, she reminded me of my friends' son Beck. Finally we stumbled back to our hotel where just before crashing, John made a snide remark how I was socializing with the entire party until a cute Italian girl sat next to me on the couch and I didn,t say a word. Typical.
Anyway it's now morning, got *some* sleep and am sitting writing this on the train just outside of Geneva. Signing off for now so I can watch our travels around Lake Leman and then into the Alps.
Holy shit. I'm now looking at the Alps across lake leman and they're spectacular. Picture huge mountains rising vertically out of the water so high that the snow covered peaks are shrouded in clouds and fog. I'd take a photo but it wouldn't do it any justice through this train window. There are houses along the lake. People live with that view everyday.
So after an hour long windy climb up from Laussane, we arrived at Les Diablerets and were picked up by our host, Dre. Our chalet feels more like a private home than a hotel. There's a kitchen, a bar with a gorgeous view out back, and a mini skateboard halfpipe in the basement! So far so good. There was a little trepidation on all our parts since we we had no idea what to expect, but this is turning out excellent so far.
This is getting annoyingly long so lemme wrap up day 2 quickly:
Lunch was something called a rosti. Eggs (I like eggs), cheese, ham and all sorts of other goodness glommed together in one big happy bowl. As a matter of fact I haven't had a meal that didn't have cheese in it yet. The rest of the day of sightseeing included the Aigle winery, indoor gocarts, Montreaux christmas village, hot chocolate, hot wine, the Erotik Village (1000 sq meters of porn), more cheese for dinner, something called a racklet. We all eat dinner together so it's a funny mix of languages bouncing around the table. Finally the night ended with me winning 50 CHF in poker (which I was totally losing til jesus the bartender rolled a joint, mike vic and wes
).
Tomorrow we ride!!
Day one you ask? Well after barely sleeping on the plane, day 1 is a hazy memory. I landed in Geneva, breezed through customs, found John, and we managed to make it to the hotel with only a slight bit of dumb American confusion. James met us in the hotel lobby during an awkward conversation with the front desk. We went up to the room and then to the panoramic roof for breakfast where I made the difficult decision to not sleep and just make it to the night in an attempt to dispell my horrible jetlag in one fell swoop. Talk about a test of endurance. After breakfast, we walked around taking photos near the lake, then met up with their Swiss friend Sandrine who treated us to some Poulet in Old Town. Mayo and mustard come in squeezable tubes. After the food coma set in, I made the even more difficult decision to continue. my marathon and go shopping. This part effin sucked as we found ourselves on the 5th avenue of Geneva during holiday shopping season. On a Saturday. The crank was setting in. After practically running out of there, we went to a microbrewery called the Brasserie, drinking their freshly brewed ale (hooray beer) called something du lion, passing the time until Sandrine's wine and cheese party. Her apartment was gorgeous. And while that's not an uncommon thing for a new yorker to think while outside of their own dingy little shack, it really was, and nicely dercorated as well.
I finally got a second wind here which was well timed (maybe all those party weekends years ago were good for something), as Sandrine's friend were all stupid friendly. It was a mix of swiss and italians, but they all spoke english thankfully since my knowledge of French doesn't go much beyond hello and thanks. Sadly I forget most of their names, but the wonderful little girl Margot was sooo cute. Just about 2 yrs old, she reminded me of my friends' son Beck. Finally we stumbled back to our hotel where just before crashing, John made a snide remark how I was socializing with the entire party until a cute Italian girl sat next to me on the couch and I didn,t say a word. Typical.
Anyway it's now morning, got *some* sleep and am sitting writing this on the train just outside of Geneva. Signing off for now so I can watch our travels around Lake Leman and then into the Alps.
Holy shit. I'm now looking at the Alps across lake leman and they're spectacular. Picture huge mountains rising vertically out of the water so high that the snow covered peaks are shrouded in clouds and fog. I'd take a photo but it wouldn't do it any justice through this train window. There are houses along the lake. People live with that view everyday.
So after an hour long windy climb up from Laussane, we arrived at Les Diablerets and were picked up by our host, Dre. Our chalet feels more like a private home than a hotel. There's a kitchen, a bar with a gorgeous view out back, and a mini skateboard halfpipe in the basement! So far so good. There was a little trepidation on all our parts since we we had no idea what to expect, but this is turning out excellent so far.
This is getting annoyingly long so lemme wrap up day 2 quickly:
Lunch was something called a rosti. Eggs (I like eggs), cheese, ham and all sorts of other goodness glommed together in one big happy bowl. As a matter of fact I haven't had a meal that didn't have cheese in it yet. The rest of the day of sightseeing included the Aigle winery, indoor gocarts, Montreaux christmas village, hot chocolate, hot wine, the Erotik Village (1000 sq meters of porn), more cheese for dinner, something called a racklet. We all eat dinner together so it's a funny mix of languages bouncing around the table. Finally the night ended with me winning 50 CHF in poker (which I was totally losing til jesus the bartender rolled a joint, mike vic and wes
).
Tomorrow we ride!!
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
to someone who loves breakfast as much as i do, rosti sounds like heaven in a bowl.
dork.