Alex met me at the airport, and we headed for the office. Just before I left, he had asked me to purchase a camera lens for him that was less expensive in the US than in Europe. I was happy to see that it arrived in one piece, and that I had purchased the correct thing.

I was introduced to a bunch of people at the office and then we went downtown for lunch. The restaurant was at the top of an office building with an outdoor terrace and a great view of the city. One of the more striking features was “The Fountain”. From what I was told, the machines that were used in the watchmaking industry ran on pressurized water. When the watchmakers went to lunch, they would turn the valve to stop the machines, causing pressure to build up. The release for this pressure was a fountain in the middle of Lake Geneva. I’m not sure what it is used for now, but it is an impressive 140m high spray of water that can be seen from almost anywhere in the city.

Alex was born and raised in Germany, but he now works in Switzerland but lives in France. I like Geneva, but there is something about the city that is missing. Perhaps it is too clean as to be antiseptic.

Where Alex lives, however, is quite beautiful. We drove across the border and then began to climb a series of switch-backs to the top of a ridge. From there you could see the entire valley, as well as Mont Blanc (at something around 4500m). I must say that on the way down I had a moment of déja vu back to when Andrea and I used to live in California.

We lived in Sonoma county, and it get to Napa county you could take the long way around the hills, or you could go over them. We often went over them. When I drove it was fun, but when Andrea drove I often found myself getting a bit woozy. It had nothing to do with Andrea’s driving, just that being a passenger seemed to make me nauseous.

I must have turned a bit green because as we headed down off the ridge Alex asked if I was getting seasick, and if he should slow down. “No” I lied, because the last thing I wanted was for the journey down to take longer. (grin)

Things got better on the plateau, but it was still amazingly hilly. We stopped by my home for the night, Le Chaumet, a Bed and Breakfast run by Madame Cadet.

She rents out one room in her house to guests, and included is a traditional French breakfast (petit déjeuner). I dropped of my bags and was told (through Alex) simply to lock the door when I came in for the night and that they would leave the hall light on for me.

We then headed to Alex’s house. He has a nice, new construction home in a little development in Menthonnex-en-Bournes. As we made our way there we would pass signs saying “Chez this” and “Chez that”. Instead of street names, directions are given in relation to farms. Except in Alex’s case, as he lives near the mayor’s office, so directions are based from there.

He got his camera (time to try out the new lens) and we headed out. Luckily, his family returned at about that time, and I was able to meet his wife and their three children. Alex speaks perfect German, and excellent French and English. His family has a bit of all three, although German is mainly spoken in the house and French outside of it. I was able to say, quite passably, that I didn’t speak French (in French) and that I didn’t speak German (in German). This got a laugh out of Alex’s sister-in-law who was visiting.

I also got to meet their dog, a large German Shepherd. I also found out that black pants and a tan dog don’t necessarily go together.

We then made our way to Annecy. We passed over a small bridge that spanned a stream and Alex pointed out that the house down below was an old mill, and some friends of his had purchased it to use as a house. A few kilometers later we came to another bridge that spanned the same stream, although this one was much more impressive.

The original bridge had castle-like structures on either side to support the cables that held up a foot bridge. Alongside this bridge a few meters away was an arch bridge for vehicular traffic. Alex told me it was in need of repair, and when the repairs are started his commute is going to be much longer.

Annecy is on a lake (Lac d’Annecy) fed by Alpine streams (I did mention that this is all going on in the French Alps, did I not?). The water in the lake is extremely clear, and it was a beautiful sight to look out and see the large lake framed by tall mountains. To reach it we had driven on manicured streets through modern buildings, but when we got to the lake the architecture was much older and much more grand.

We wandered around and Alex took numerous pictures with his new lens. I was extremely tired from both work and (I assume) fatigue from Lyme’s, but I found some hidden store of energy when it hit me that I was wandering around the Alps, with a talented guide and conversationalist, about to have my first truly French meal.

Alex makes a great guide, as he was raised in Germany he is able to point out French idiosyncrasies without embarrassment.

May 1st is a holiday in most of Europe (but not Geneva) and the restaurant Alex wanted to use was closed. We ended up at a “cheese” restaurant (yes, cheese Gromit) called Le Freti. I like stinky cheese so I was looking forward to the meal. I also had a huge craving for soup. My meal started with onion soup, and the main course arrived with a green salad (Romaine and dressing). It was potatoes, onions and ham in a cream sauce covered with cheese that had been melted in a broiler. I must learn how to make this at home, but my guess is that the key ingredient, the cheese, is what made it so good. Alex had something similar, although with goat cheese, and both meals came with the ubiquitous slices of bread.

I didn’t get back to the Le Chaumet until nearly midnight. The bed was nice, the room was cool, and I slept well.