Geneva, the colors of the life

Here I am again in Switzerland after one year and a half but this time just in the capital city, Geneva.

After an amazing view from 40.000 thousand feet of Mont Blanc and Swizz mountains we landed safely at the International airport de Geneve.

 

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Surprisingly we were welcomed by a warm weather and a shining sun even if Europe is just in the middle of the autumn right now.

We were leaving the airport inhaling deep the fresh air of that afternoon, filling not only our lungs but also our minds and souls with the happiness of beying healthy and alive and feeling blessed that we are traveling in different part of the world almost every day.

The sunny day gave me the impression that is spring time while the dead colorful leaves reminded me nicely that winter will take over soon.

 

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The meteo report convinced me though to stay in the hotel and rest after the flight, announcing same wonderful sky for the next day. Once again it was wrong, the next morning was cloudy and the sun was trying without success to warm the city of Geneva, fact that remind me that i should never trust the weather forecast.

Being a person who loves the sun, i hardley motivate myself to leave the hotel blaming the clouds for my bad mood. For the first time I went sightseeing with no plan, no touristic objective on my list and also with no enthusiasm.

But once i reached the Bel air train station i was “greet” by few swans which managed to put a smile on my face. It brought in my mind one of my first flights to Zurich but also the funny real story of the romanian gipsies who catched and eat the swans, confusing these sublime birds with ordinary geese.

I was walking along the Lake Geneva together with other tourists, chased by the                                                 elegant swim of few swans which seems to not be aware of this tragic                                                           story of their relatives.

 

The reflection of the trees dancing in the wind, loosing some of their colorful leaves create on the surface of the lake the impression of a great painting. The painter was the Creator. He is the only one able to draw such a perfect picture immortalizing the circle of life.

Nothing in the world is eternal and the nature, same as the human beings can’t skip the final step of dead.

 

But more lucky than us, the nature has the gift of renaissance, when during every spring the trees are filled with wonderful flowers and green new borned leaves. This is the great lesson that the nature is teaching us and it is in our power to reborn spiritualy every time, cleaning our souls of dirt and negativity and same as the trees, pushing away the people who are sucking our energy and joy for the life.

 

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Going through this melancolic moment i realised how much I missed the 4 seasons: the smell of the rain, the joy of the first snow, the sun which is rising shy after a cold winter, the plans for summer.

I was awakened from my day dream by the agitation of the tourist and locals who were gathering in the old city.

Without even notice, lost in my thoughts i was already walking on the tight streets of                                  the city center, between shops, restaurants and historical buildings.

 

Back to the real life i figured out that Swizerland is an expensive country not highly recommended for shopping and this time i staid away from fashion temptations, keeping my wallet untouched.

Without any direction I let myself lost on the totally unknown alleys enjoying any new discovery: a small church, a golden tree, a weird statue.

 

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Looking for a place to have my lunch i found an italian pizzeria and i was happy that finally i can speak in a familliar language. My supposition was false and even if they were flying a big flag in front of the restaurant no one of the waiters were speaking italian.

Even though i used my poor french to make myself understandable  and i got exactly what i asked for: a pizza quatro formaggi and cafe ou lait.

 

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I ate fast and i rushed to the Lake again this time hopping to see something more “turistical” like Jet de l’au. Unfortunately the famous fontain was closed because of the unfriendly weather and again I blamed myself for being lazy and sleeping the day before.

I was heading to the train station admiring again the beautiful swans which were cleaning their white feathers. A spanish familly was walking beside me being even more excited of the view, trying to identify the different colors of the ducks which was a real funny game for the kids.

 

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Once i reached “Bel air”  i inhaled one more time the fresh air of the city and i realised that the name of the station describe perfect the place… “beautiful air”.

 Now, it’s time to leave…New destination, new adventure is waiting for me.

 

Au revoir Geneve!

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