Postcard from Genève
Part of the trip -
Switzerland
People watching from the Place du Bourg de Four in the Old Town.
I am sitting here outside Chez Ma Cousine ‘on y mange du poulet’, [translation – at the house of my cousin one only eats chicken] which is just one of the little cafés in the square, having a rest after walking around the Old Town (lots of ups and downs and cobbled streets), with a large café crème. The sun is shining and it has been another very warm day, so I am glad of the shade of the umbrella above me.
The Place du Bourg is lovely! This is the centre of the Old Town and has an 18th century flowered fountain, which I am sitting next to. I have got into fountains in a big way since coming to Genève – they are everywhere, and all so different, flowers, sculptures – fascinating!
This spot attracts lots of little sparrows, fluttering between sips of water and baths at the fountain, to cheekily trying to pinch crumbs off the tables. They land on the tables and chairs around me, but are too quick for my camera, though I manage to capture one poised on the edge of the fountain, with his back towards me, of course!. There is the sound of someone playing a recorder - badly - from within one of the apartments in the square, shutters and windows wide open to the sun and the constant murmur of people in conversation.
Although it is only four o’clock in the late afternoon, there is very little space at any of the cafés. Empty tables are soon filled. People are drinking cold beers and white wine, and coffee; friends meeting up – standing up to greet each other with the flamboyant kiss/kiss/kiss on both cheeks, Eh! Comment ça va? [Hey! How are you?] with happy smiling faces; husbands waiting for their wives to stop their shopping in the Rue du Rhone, Rue de Rive and Place du Molard (watches, parfumeries, fashion and chocolatiers); old ladies, very smartly dressed and coiffured, reading a book or a newspaper and a young student sits opposite me with her study books open on the table, making notes whilst sipping her Evian water.
Occasionally a young boy on his way home from school, will arrive at the fountain and climb up for a drink, dropping his school bag in the dust. Little children amuse themselves by running around the circumference, giggling as they hide from their parents. It is a busy, lively place, sunlight streaming through the autumnal trees. I have had to buy another coffee, as I am reluctant to leave just yet.
An elderly gentleman has come to sit at the table next to me; he is also alone; his red polo shirt matching the red umbrella under which he sits in the shade and together we observe all who pass by. Two young Genevois couples meet up and order bottles of Rosé wine and a tall jug of Pimms: they all light up a cigarette. It has struck me how many Genevois smoke. Must be how they keep so slim! Funny how we have become so used to no smoking in public in the UK that it is so noticeable in Europe!
At another table in the next café with white umbrellas a beautiful Italian-looking lady is wearing the classic dark glasses and silver bands holding back her glossy black hair; she talks loudly on her mobile phone, hands gesticulating in the air – her large cup of cappuccino forgotten and going cold. Ah life is wonderful, but now I must go and make my way to the Promenade de la Treille to see the avenue of Chestnut trees and the world’s longest bench.
Ciao, ciao – I’ll write again soon xx
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