It is exactly a week since my bag was
stolen, literally from under my feet at Geneva Cornavin station. You
might have expected that passing time would have made me more
resigned to the situation, but no.
Every day that passes I discover
something else that is essential to my life is missing, whether it be
something cheap and easily replaceable like lip balm or a torch, to
something more expensive and difficult to replace like prescription
sunglasses or my camera. The latter I have already replaced, together
with my iPad and iPod. But one of my stolen digital cameras had a
viewfinder, something I find essential when, as has been the case
this week, the sun has been shining which makes the image on an LCD
screen almost impossible to view.
Until this morning, I was making
progress with my passport renewal. But eagle-eyed friend Michael
spotted that I could only use the form that his wife had brought from
London if I was actually in the UK. So I will have to cut short my
long-planned rail trip to Europe and get back to Bern to apply for an
emergency one. More needless expense and a total pain.
No news at all from the Geneva lost
property department, who had given me some hope that the passport was
quite likely to be recovered.
Of course all sorts of other matters
have come to light. Skype warned me that it was running out of credit
because one of the lost cards was used to fund it; I couldn't make a
purchase on Amazon for the same reason. The fact that my bag was
taken probably just for cash makes me so mad; I would almost have
happily just handed money over, had they asked, just to avoid the
inconvenience of it all.
To say that the incident has marred my
visit and my view of Geneva is an understatement. Everyone I have
spoken to has been sympathetic, understanding and caring. But, almost
immediately, they tell me of friends they know who have also been
robbed in Geneva. Everywhere you look here, there are posters warning
of the scam of the coin under the cups trick; almost as frequently
you see people of Eastern European appearance ripping people off with
it.
I have asked Geneva Police to tell me
what is being done, but don't hold your breath for much information.
Tourism is big business in this city and the last thing they want to
do is make visitors think that the situation here is much worse than
any other place. But it is. Geneva is not London or New York. It is a
small town, which happens to have some pretty important institutions
based here. Ask any staff member of the International Red Cross or
the United Nations and they will tell you that they, or a friend,
have been robbed.
But let's not dwell on crime. Let's
look at what Geneva has to offer.
Firstly, like all of Switzerland, it is
scarily expensive and you really have to budget carefully if you are
not to have a serious hole in your pocket. A small basket in the
supermarket can easily cost two or three hundred Swiss Francs,
probably over half as much again as you will be used to spending at
home. Eating out is eye-wateringly costly, with even a basic menu
costing forty CHF. The canny Genevois, of course, head over the
border to France when they can, buy their groceries, have their meals
and buy their booze.
One thing that Geneva certainly has to
offer is a really efficient public transport system. If you are
staying in a hotel, they are likely to give you a ticket for the
duration of your stay. That not only covers buses, local trains,
trolleybuses and trams, but also the little red and yellow mouette
ferries that criss cross Lac Leman.
The Geneva Card, available for 1, 2 or
3 days, gives you access to all sorts of things from trips by boat
around the Lake to museums and even the cable car up Mont Saleve.
I combined both cards to take a trip on
the number 8 bus to the end of the line, the Veyrier Douane, or
customs post, followed by a short walk to take the steep ascent on
the cable car.
You wouldn't even know you had crossed
the border, a bit of a relief for those of us who are not in
possession of a travel document!
At the top, stunning views over Geneva
and Lac Leman and the chance to watch as people attach themselves to
colourful bits of nylon cord and material and throw themselves off
the 1000 metre high cliff.
But, somehow, I find myself drawn again
and again to the Lake and all it has to offer. From 'Les Bains de
Paquis' where the locals enjoy their croissants or fondues while
watching or participating in a bathe in the rather chilly lake - to a
trip on one of the beautifully restored 100-year-old paddle steamers
like Savoie or Simplon.
I took one such trip to the French
medieval village of Yvoire, where an absolutely splendid lunch was
taken on the terrace at the Auberge du Bacouni, before taking the
paddle steamer back to Geneva. In fact a very nice lady at the CGN
ferry company suggested I also take in Nyon, but the lunch and the
view was so special, that I rather lingered over my barracuda souffle
and my plat de fromages. A real treat – and a LOT cheaper than
eating in Geneva.
If you have a Swiss Flexi Pass, not
only does it cover your rail journeys, but also gives you boat trips,
funicular railways, cable cars and buses. On my trip on Savoie, the
First Class saloon was almost empty, but booked to be completely full
for dinner. In any case, I spent a lot of my time just marvelling at
the engineering of the century old steam pistons driving the massive
paddle wheels.
My friend Michael took me to visit
Carouges, where folk will say they are from, rather than from Geneva itself,
just across the river. I can only compare it to a London mews, twee
little properties and even more twee little shops. As we supped
coffee, a man loaded top of the range champagne into the back of his
illegally parked 4 x 4. It's that sort of place.
But the lure of the Lake is always
powerful, watching the iconic jet d'eau pump water hundreds of metres
into the sky.
Nearby at 'Le Grange', taking lunch at
the café run by 'The Swiss League for women abstainers' is just one
way of realising that most folk in Geneva are great. It's just a few
incomers who are spoiling it for the majority.
But somehow, watching the world on the
lake go by, such issues seem so very far away.
On Monday I set off on my Rail Trip,
slightly anxious about my lack of passport. But I have my pass and I
have my booking to Paris, so another adventure beckons.
Best of my photos from the whole trip are at: