Alps to the left of me, Jura to the right, here I am

Geneva is the exception to the Swiss rule. While here, one doesn’t hear cowbells ringing in the distance nor are there chocolate shops around every corner.

swiss-image.ch/Marek Vogel © Switzerland Tourism

Swiss flags aren’t hanging off the sides of buildings and mountains can only be found from the tops of certain hills in the city - on really clear days. This is why I’ve found myself venturing out of the city in search of many of those Swiss stereotypes I’ve come to know and love.

I recently set aside a Saturday afternoon to make my way up the Salève - Geneva’s modest excuse for a mountain. Standing just over one thousand meters high, the Salève is actually in France but is easily recognizable from Geneva’s harbourfront.

Now, because I’m from a fairly flat part of Canada and because it could be argued that my fitness is not up to par, I thought it best to take the cable car up. No need to be a hero here.

The lookout from the cable car stop was nice. All of Geneva was in full view: Lake Geneva and its Jet d’Eau, the UN’s sprawling property and the neighbourhoods in both of the Rives.

So yes, for a first-timer the view would be great but I had seen better in Switzerland. I knew better. Unsatisfied, I set out to explore.

After a brief stint hiking up a rather steep and rocky trail, I came to my first rest stop about one hundred meters up from the cable car’s summit. There amongst patches of uncut grass spotted with people picnicking, I saw the first hints of the Alps and I knew I was getting close.

Passing paragliders launching off the sides of steep cliffs and being passed by more “professional” hikers (no, not the naked ones) at around 1300 meters I found what I was looking for.

Amongst cows grazing, and a group of old men flying model airplanes, I came to a place where the metaphor of Switzerland being in the heart of Europe and Geneva being the enclave of France was before me. To my left were the Alps in all their rocky glory (no, not that Rocky glory) and to my right was France’s rolling mountain range, Jura. I had arrived.

Posted in tourism by Nicole Catenazzi

Tags: Alps, Geneva, Life in Switzerland, Swiss

This entry was posted on November 6th, 2009 at 11:43 and is filed under tourism. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

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