When I travel, I am constantly torn between a need to experience the new and the need to make where I am more like home. Usually, I can go for a long period without any cravings for food, but there is always that day that I have to have a taco or don't think that I will get by without the requisite Diet Coke.
Sure, I always miss friends, family, my pillow and Nicole (not in that order of course, as Nicole and my pillow rate pretty high). However the experiences are always exciting. For lunch upon arrival, we went back to the local Carrefour and had a homemade pizza (ham, anchovy, caper, onion, tomato). For lunch the first day in the office, I had steak tartare with chips. I tried to go for sushi for dinner for an all raw day, but we didn't wrap up in time and they closed at 10 p.m.
The friends we made on the last trip were happy to see us and lunch/dinner arrangements were promised. All is very comfortable.
Where I just cannot make the travel leap is my bathroom habits. Since this trip is four weeks, we approached it a little differently as I figured everything consumable that I brought would run out and since I would have to buy it again anyway, why not just wait and buy it here? So I find myself looking for similar items from home -- better shampoo, soap, mouthwash, cold medicine -- and then looking to step it up a bit.
Is it wrong to want cushy toilet paper? Is it too American to ask for lotion on my Kleenex? Am I a wimp for eyeing the pillows with envy?
I find myself daydreaming a bit and wondering since I will be there four weeks, would I have time to paint the room a better color. Maybe I could make an arrangement with my neighbor and knock out a wall and we could spread out. (For reference, my room is the same size as Paris Hilton's cell -- literally).
Regardless, we are just focusing on the work and the plans for the weekends. Oddly, the biggest 4th of July celebration outside the US is in Geneva. We saw where Bush was a big hit in Albania so we were looking for flights/trains there. Maybe a day in Paris, Prague or Croatia. Actually -- anything to get out of my tiny room.
Today though, my project really kicks off. Folks are flying in to listen to me drone on about "Roles & Responsibilities", "RACI charts" and as many other "R" words as I can roll off my tongue.
Wish me luck. I only pretend to know what I am talking about.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Sunday, June 10, 2007
For the Children...
Today is Sunday. However, the "day" (a day is defined as the time from when I get up to the time I am allowed to lay down in a comfortable position and sleep) began yesterday at 3:15 in the morning.
I am in Geneva now as part of a four week "little" trip. Due to approval delays I was not able to book my tickets until it was really too late to get a "good" rate. This was complicated in that we budgeted for me to do all of this travel in January (translated: cheap rates) instead of June/July (translated: Holy-Cow-You-Can-Not-Be-Serious rates).
As the project manager, I am accountable to hitting our budget. So after berating a few of the team members, when I went to book my tickets the only way that I could hit the budget was for me to fly a slightly less than direct route from Lexington to Geneva. Best case, you can make this trip in 12-13 hours with one connection. I am not completely sure without doing the research, but I am pretty sure that the worst case is making it a 25 hour trip with 4 connections (Lexington to Atlanta to Boston to Paris to Geneva).
My first flight was at 6 a.m. Saturday morning. From reading earlier posts, you might have seen mention of my issues with sleeping on the planes. To remedy this, I was going to stay up late on Saturday to see if exhaustion drives sleep. (Turns out exhaustion + Cold medicine + boring movie options = enough snoring to miss two breakfasts).
I start this wonderful travel experience by staying up late (translate: procrastinating on packing until 10:00p.m. the night before) and a plan of getting up at 3:30 in the morning to get to the airport (relaxing my 2 hour rule) at 4:30. However, as the nervous guy, I set up a three-tiered alarm system.
- Alarm 1: Normal alarm clock set for 3:30 a.m.
- Alarm 2: Cell phone alarm clock set for 3:45 a.m.
- Alarm 3: I drank a lot of tea right before bed.
I went to bed at 12:15 and alarm 3 went off at about 1:30. I tried hitting snooze on that one, but it kept trying to go off until I finally gave up and got up at 3:15 and went for a Guiness record for length of pee. After showering to rehydrate (the California raisin look went out in the 80's) we left and made it to the airport at 4:29. For future reference, airport check-in lines do not open until about 4:36 which had not been communicated to the other 30-40 people standing in line.
The "cool" thing was that I have now traveled enough to skip the normal line and was first in line for the frequent traveler/first class line. So, this early on a Saturday morning, I could feel the love all around me. Most of the travelers were headed through Atlanta on their way to vacations like Disney World, so there were a few little kids with questions like "Mommy, why did that man get to go before us?..."
Unbeknownst (wow, I never get to use that word) to any of us, there was a bit of weather brewing in Atlanta which required one person to "deplane" so that their weight could be offset by additional fuel for circling Atlanta. (Isn't deplane a silly word like you have a plane growing like a mole on your back and you need to be "deplaned"). The flight attendant begged from the lobby. No takers -- apparently the other travelers wanted their vacations. The flight attendant begged from the plane and started offering $200 flight vouchers. I snoozed. The flight attendant begged and begged and mothers started looking nervous when it was mentioned that someone would be drawn "randomly".
The flight attendant offered $400 -- so I took it -- for the children.
Interestingly (is that a word?) the guy that started out as the jerk, was later applauded by the whole plane.
I really can't say much else. My bags went to Atlanta and then Boston. I went to Cincinnati, but with a 7.5 hour layover in Boston, they had plenty of time to drive themselves, stopping to see the museums, and meet me there. We then happily met each other in Geneva.
I actually slept most of the rest of the trip.
I am in Geneva now as part of a four week "little" trip. Due to approval delays I was not able to book my tickets until it was really too late to get a "good" rate. This was complicated in that we budgeted for me to do all of this travel in January (translated: cheap rates) instead of June/July (translated: Holy-Cow-You-Can-Not-Be-Serious rates).
As the project manager, I am accountable to hitting our budget. So after berating a few of the team members, when I went to book my tickets the only way that I could hit the budget was for me to fly a slightly less than direct route from Lexington to Geneva. Best case, you can make this trip in 12-13 hours with one connection. I am not completely sure without doing the research, but I am pretty sure that the worst case is making it a 25 hour trip with 4 connections (Lexington to Atlanta to Boston to Paris to Geneva).
My first flight was at 6 a.m. Saturday morning. From reading earlier posts, you might have seen mention of my issues with sleeping on the planes. To remedy this, I was going to stay up late on Saturday to see if exhaustion drives sleep. (Turns out exhaustion + Cold medicine + boring movie options = enough snoring to miss two breakfasts).
I start this wonderful travel experience by staying up late (translate: procrastinating on packing until 10:00p.m. the night before) and a plan of getting up at 3:30 in the morning to get to the airport (relaxing my 2 hour rule) at 4:30. However, as the nervous guy, I set up a three-tiered alarm system.
- Alarm 1: Normal alarm clock set for 3:30 a.m.
- Alarm 2: Cell phone alarm clock set for 3:45 a.m.
- Alarm 3: I drank a lot of tea right before bed.
I went to bed at 12:15 and alarm 3 went off at about 1:30. I tried hitting snooze on that one, but it kept trying to go off until I finally gave up and got up at 3:15 and went for a Guiness record for length of pee. After showering to rehydrate (the California raisin look went out in the 80's) we left and made it to the airport at 4:29. For future reference, airport check-in lines do not open until about 4:36 which had not been communicated to the other 30-40 people standing in line.
The "cool" thing was that I have now traveled enough to skip the normal line and was first in line for the frequent traveler/first class line. So, this early on a Saturday morning, I could feel the love all around me. Most of the travelers were headed through Atlanta on their way to vacations like Disney World, so there were a few little kids with questions like "Mommy, why did that man get to go before us?..."
Unbeknownst (wow, I never get to use that word) to any of us, there was a bit of weather brewing in Atlanta which required one person to "deplane" so that their weight could be offset by additional fuel for circling Atlanta. (Isn't deplane a silly word like you have a plane growing like a mole on your back and you need to be "deplaned"). The flight attendant begged from the lobby. No takers -- apparently the other travelers wanted their vacations. The flight attendant begged from the plane and started offering $200 flight vouchers. I snoozed. The flight attendant begged and begged and mothers started looking nervous when it was mentioned that someone would be drawn "randomly".
The flight attendant offered $400 -- so I took it -- for the children.
Interestingly (is that a word?) the guy that started out as the jerk, was later applauded by the whole plane.
I really can't say much else. My bags went to Atlanta and then Boston. I went to Cincinnati, but with a 7.5 hour layover in Boston, they had plenty of time to drive themselves, stopping to see the museums, and meet me there. We then happily met each other in Geneva.
I actually slept most of the rest of the trip.
Throwing Cans of Dr. Pepper at the Squirrels
Actually, it was one can of Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper but that wasn't quite as catchy of a title.
Also, for those of you that prefer your squirrels in "scampering" mode rather than those of you that like your squirrels in a little gravy on biscuits -- I should state quickly that my keen sense of distance and timing, coupled with my strong athletic ability, was in such a high form that I was able to hit the same yard that the squirrel was in, but just barely.
To tell the story, I should start at the beginning. Not quite so far back as the "When a Daddy and a Mommy love each other...", but back about a year. My wife wanted a new house and had very specific requirements. She wanted at least 4 bedrooms with a large utility room with a basement with a nice kitchen in a good neighborhood with good schools with friendly neighbors with children holding hands and singing in the streets. I, on the other hand, just wanted trees.
We, meaning Nicole, looked and looked and finally nagged enough about a house that we went, looked, fell in like and closed in the span of 20 days (including loans, etc.) This was properly efficient for me to puff out my chest and feel good about my project management skills.
However, for those of you that have not moved into a second house, there is a universal law that things will start to go bad with everything just as you are trying to sell and then after you have signed all the paperwork and are in the new house.
For example, one week before the move House 1.0 decided that the dryer was a unnecessary luxury. After all, it was warm outside and with all the talk of global warming, we could spare the electricity. However, there was not a committee meeting to discuss the issue and my wife was not in agreement. It was still under warranty (dryer door issue) but still -- frustrating.
Not to be outdone, House 2.0 decided that a functioning garage door was also an unnecessary luxury and decided to go on strike by unattaching itself from the actual door. Again, in our fine democracy, there was no meeting, vote or majority consensus.
So that is why on a fine Friday morning I was parked outside our lovely house under our lovely old oak tree. The same oak tree that a family of blue jays had under contract with the city for air rights -- and felt that the angry sqawking was not enough escalation for me to speed up my process of removing myself from their property.
So they pooped on me.
Startled, I did the only thing I could think of as appropriate for the time. I let out a squeak like a little girl, threw the soda can I was carrying and nearly hit an innocent squirrel.
Also, for those of you that prefer your squirrels in "scampering" mode rather than those of you that like your squirrels in a little gravy on biscuits -- I should state quickly that my keen sense of distance and timing, coupled with my strong athletic ability, was in such a high form that I was able to hit the same yard that the squirrel was in, but just barely.
To tell the story, I should start at the beginning. Not quite so far back as the "When a Daddy and a Mommy love each other...", but back about a year. My wife wanted a new house and had very specific requirements. She wanted at least 4 bedrooms with a large utility room with a basement with a nice kitchen in a good neighborhood with good schools with friendly neighbors with children holding hands and singing in the streets. I, on the other hand, just wanted trees.
We, meaning Nicole, looked and looked and finally nagged enough about a house that we went, looked, fell in like and closed in the span of 20 days (including loans, etc.) This was properly efficient for me to puff out my chest and feel good about my project management skills.
However, for those of you that have not moved into a second house, there is a universal law that things will start to go bad with everything just as you are trying to sell and then after you have signed all the paperwork and are in the new house.
For example, one week before the move House 1.0 decided that the dryer was a unnecessary luxury. After all, it was warm outside and with all the talk of global warming, we could spare the electricity. However, there was not a committee meeting to discuss the issue and my wife was not in agreement. It was still under warranty (dryer door issue) but still -- frustrating.
Not to be outdone, House 2.0 decided that a functioning garage door was also an unnecessary luxury and decided to go on strike by unattaching itself from the actual door. Again, in our fine democracy, there was no meeting, vote or majority consensus.
So that is why on a fine Friday morning I was parked outside our lovely house under our lovely old oak tree. The same oak tree that a family of blue jays had under contract with the city for air rights -- and felt that the angry sqawking was not enough escalation for me to speed up my process of removing myself from their property.
So they pooped on me.
Startled, I did the only thing I could think of as appropriate for the time. I let out a squeak like a little girl, threw the soda can I was carrying and nearly hit an innocent squirrel.
Friday, May 18, 2007
Read This Blog
So my last post was almost 4 months ago to the day.
This post is simply to get my friend Tria to stop pestering for a freakin' post.
Love always. Matt.
This post is simply to get my friend Tria to stop pestering for a freakin' post.
Love always. Matt.
Sunday, January 14, 2007
40 Degree Drop
It has been a little while since my last little notes -- but I miss writing this little blog. Or at least I miss the imaginations that people are laughing at my little adventures. As always, my goal is simply to bring joy to the people -- even if it IS always about me.
My next trip is to visit a friend in Ottawa. Now you should know that he his a friend because I am headed into the Arctic in the middle of the freakin' winter to see the guy. Last check, it was 40 degrees colder there than here.
He used to live in Lexington, but started a company with two of my other colleagues (www.mercurygrove.com). This originally was going to be just me -- but the other two guys are going to go as well. We intend to experience the real Canada -- the hocky, the curling and the funny little thing called poutine.
Poutine, as I understand is cheese fries and gravy (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poutine). Now, I should say that one of my New Year's resolutions involved weight loss as I weigh about 50% more than I did when I graduated college. Oddly, this menu item actually shows up in Weight Watchers.
In the same conversation where my friend was complaining that the canal was not completely frozen over, he asked that I bring my swim suit and a pair of sandles. I must say that I have watched way too many Road Runner/Coyote cartoons to fall for that one. I can only hope that he means that the walk to the indoor hot springs requires footwear.
Also, oddly enough, it seems that the most direct route from Cincinnati to Ottawa is through Atlanta. I really need to find someone in air traffic control.
My next trip is to visit a friend in Ottawa. Now you should know that he his a friend because I am headed into the Arctic in the middle of the freakin' winter to see the guy. Last check, it was 40 degrees colder there than here.
He used to live in Lexington, but started a company with two of my other colleagues (www.mercurygrove.com). This originally was going to be just me -- but the other two guys are going to go as well. We intend to experience the real Canada -- the hocky, the curling and the funny little thing called poutine.
Poutine, as I understand is cheese fries and gravy (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poutine). Now, I should say that one of my New Year's resolutions involved weight loss as I weigh about 50% more than I did when I graduated college. Oddly, this menu item actually shows up in Weight Watchers.
In the same conversation where my friend was complaining that the canal was not completely frozen over, he asked that I bring my swim suit and a pair of sandles. I must say that I have watched way too many Road Runner/Coyote cartoons to fall for that one. I can only hope that he means that the walk to the indoor hot springs requires footwear.
Also, oddly enough, it seems that the most direct route from Cincinnati to Ottawa is through Atlanta. I really need to find someone in air traffic control.
Monday, November 13, 2006
Funny Shaped Football
We went out last night to watch football at the local pub http://www.pickwick.ch/ We got there at 6:00 -- which was an hour before game time and the place was so packed on both floors that there was no place to sit -- and barely room to stand. Their was a soccer match on (Arsenal thrashed Liverpool) and for a short amount of time I thought we had gotten it terribly wrong in translation and the NFL wasn't going to be on...
After the Arsenal game, the place pretty much cleared out. Magically, they chose to show the Bengals game. Or, for those who saw the game -- the Ladamien Tomlinson show. There were a number of Chargers fan there. I grabbed bacon cheeseburger (with sauce) and fries. Not stellar -- I still miss the Harry's mini burgers.
Random other thoughts
The first night we were here we went to a local place for dinner where the name essentially translated to "Spitoon". When we walked in, it looked like a number of the tables had these massive lava lamps sitting on them. Under closer inspection, they were clear pvc like tubes of beer with a tap on the bottom. They sold them in 5 Liter quantities. This same place was doing kareoke. I was in a bad European/American Idol sequence -- I don't watch the show, but I imagine I was in the part where they do the early auditions. Random folks singing off-key in English -- bad. Random folks singing off-key in random languages -- oddly, equally as bad.
After the Arsenal game, the place pretty much cleared out. Magically, they chose to show the Bengals game. Or, for those who saw the game -- the Ladamien Tomlinson show. There were a number of Chargers fan there. I grabbed bacon cheeseburger (with sauce) and fries. Not stellar -- I still miss the Harry's mini burgers.
Random other thoughts
The first night we were here we went to a local place for dinner where the name essentially translated to "Spitoon". When we walked in, it looked like a number of the tables had these massive lava lamps sitting on them. Under closer inspection, they were clear pvc like tubes of beer with a tap on the bottom. They sold them in 5 Liter quantities. This same place was doing kareoke. I was in a bad European/American Idol sequence -- I don't watch the show, but I imagine I was in the part where they do the early auditions. Random folks singing off-key in English -- bad. Random folks singing off-key in random languages -- oddly, equally as bad.
Sunday, November 12, 2006
Italy
Last weekend we went down to Italy. Why? Because we can...
Herve had scoped out Genoa as potentially a fun place to go. (See link on the left) It is about 4 hours south of Geneva and is the 2nd largest port in Europe (and the birthplace of Christopher Columbus). We took the tunnel through Mont Blanc (wow) and ended up in town with little difficulty.
On the way, Coby had downloaded Italian lessons from "World Nomads" so that we could learn some basic phrases. So we learned how to say "Hello" and "Thank You". Apparently you can download a variety of language courses from them for free. As the instructions progress, you learn more and more useful phrases which culminated with "Don't shoot! These aren't my drugs". Um. thanks.
We parked downtown and looked around for places where we wanted to be that night. I took a lot of pictures of the old architecture with narrow streets and beautiful detail work on the buildings which were easily older than our country.
We wandered into a little Italian restaurant to get pizza. Coby went exotic and got a four cheese pizza. I got mine with anchovies so that I wouldn't have to share... It was good.
We found out about a couple of clubs and then found a hotel. It turned out to be the same hotel that George Bush stayed at for the G8 summit. It was right on the harbor and seemed incredibly palatial after the Geneva walk-in closet. The odd thing was the bathroom (again). You walked into the room and it was entirely marble. Now this was a four star hotel -- as the hotels in Europe all have to publish their ratings on their signs. So the bathroom had the normal sink and toilet -- and a bidet, a shower and a rack to heat your towels. Okay, so nice. However, when you take a step back, you realize that there is not a division between any of it. So the shower did not have a curtain or walls. It essentially just drained into the drain in the middle of the room. (I found out later that this is common in the US in big houses and is called a "Rain Room"). I did think that it was kind of ironic that they gave us a soap labeled "Bath soap" because if I made this a bath, it was going to take a lot of water and som caulk around the door.
Being the manly men we are, we took naps that afternoon in lieu of dinner. I wandered next door to the aquarium and was entertained by a very active octopus. At the stingray petting area, a little girl wandered up to me and asked me if they bite. I said no, and complimented her on her English, asking her where she was from... California.
We then went to a club for Coby to roll the dice and try his luck meeting Italian women. Oddly, he had better luck talking up a Danish woman there on business as absolutely no other women there spoke English. We closed the place -- and got back to the hotel at a respectable 5 a.m.
The next morning we headed back after getting the requisite new country McDonald's for Coby. After 3 countries doing this -- amazingly it all tastes the same.
Herve had scoped out Genoa as potentially a fun place to go. (See link on the left) It is about 4 hours south of Geneva and is the 2nd largest port in Europe (and the birthplace of Christopher Columbus). We took the tunnel through Mont Blanc (wow) and ended up in town with little difficulty.
On the way, Coby had downloaded Italian lessons from "World Nomads" so that we could learn some basic phrases. So we learned how to say "Hello" and "Thank You". Apparently you can download a variety of language courses from them for free. As the instructions progress, you learn more and more useful phrases which culminated with "Don't shoot! These aren't my drugs". Um. thanks.
We parked downtown and looked around for places where we wanted to be that night. I took a lot of pictures of the old architecture with narrow streets and beautiful detail work on the buildings which were easily older than our country.
We wandered into a little Italian restaurant to get pizza. Coby went exotic and got a four cheese pizza. I got mine with anchovies so that I wouldn't have to share... It was good.
We found out about a couple of clubs and then found a hotel. It turned out to be the same hotel that George Bush stayed at for the G8 summit. It was right on the harbor and seemed incredibly palatial after the Geneva walk-in closet. The odd thing was the bathroom (again). You walked into the room and it was entirely marble. Now this was a four star hotel -- as the hotels in Europe all have to publish their ratings on their signs. So the bathroom had the normal sink and toilet -- and a bidet, a shower and a rack to heat your towels. Okay, so nice. However, when you take a step back, you realize that there is not a division between any of it. So the shower did not have a curtain or walls. It essentially just drained into the drain in the middle of the room. (I found out later that this is common in the US in big houses and is called a "Rain Room"). I did think that it was kind of ironic that they gave us a soap labeled "Bath soap" because if I made this a bath, it was going to take a lot of water and som caulk around the door.
Being the manly men we are, we took naps that afternoon in lieu of dinner. I wandered next door to the aquarium and was entertained by a very active octopus. At the stingray petting area, a little girl wandered up to me and asked me if they bite. I said no, and complimented her on her English, asking her where she was from... California.
We then went to a club for Coby to roll the dice and try his luck meeting Italian women. Oddly, he had better luck talking up a Danish woman there on business as absolutely no other women there spoke English. We closed the place -- and got back to the hotel at a respectable 5 a.m.
The next morning we headed back after getting the requisite new country McDonald's for Coby. After 3 countries doing this -- amazingly it all tastes the same.
People / Nightlife
The nightlife in Geneva is relatively tame.
Every night we have gone out to blow off a bit of steam. Friday night last week we went out with a Scottish guy here to a local pool hall to shoot a bit before heading over to an Irish pub for live music.
In Asia and South America, folks are pretty interested in talking to us. It was typically a bit rare for Americans to be in some of the places we had been, so the conversations ran more along the lines of "What are you doing here" and "How do you like it..."
In Europe, they have their fair share of Americans and we are nothing special. In talking to folks here "on the street", the fall into 1 of 2 categories: 1) Oh, American... or 2) Oh, American -- (insert anti-Bush politics here).
In the office, everyone is really nice. The folks on our team usually do their own thing for lunch or dinner - but are pretty good in the meetings. They are much more formal here, so I am working a nice little balance of getting what I need by having the correct manager in the room to reason out the requirements assuming I can't get what I want from the direct staff.
Tonight (Sunday) we are going out with a Scottish guy back to the Irish pub as they play the NFL games live. With the time change, the first game starts at 7 here. Knowing what this is going to be like -- I have already done all of the work for Monday morning as I figure I will be worthless until about 9.
The people in the office have also been very helpful in suggesting what to do on weekends. However, I did uncover a conspiracy between Herve and Coby to prevent anyone from talking to me about Mont Blanc -- which is just a few miles away and visible from the office window. Apparently, you can take a tram 2/3 of the way up to the top. They were hoping I wouldn't find out. I did -- but got vetoed until the spring thaw.
Every night we have gone out to blow off a bit of steam. Friday night last week we went out with a Scottish guy here to a local pool hall to shoot a bit before heading over to an Irish pub for live music.
In Asia and South America, folks are pretty interested in talking to us. It was typically a bit rare for Americans to be in some of the places we had been, so the conversations ran more along the lines of "What are you doing here" and "How do you like it..."
In Europe, they have their fair share of Americans and we are nothing special. In talking to folks here "on the street", the fall into 1 of 2 categories: 1) Oh, American... or 2) Oh, American -- (insert anti-Bush politics here).
In the office, everyone is really nice. The folks on our team usually do their own thing for lunch or dinner - but are pretty good in the meetings. They are much more formal here, so I am working a nice little balance of getting what I need by having the correct manager in the room to reason out the requirements assuming I can't get what I want from the direct staff.
Tonight (Sunday) we are going out with a Scottish guy back to the Irish pub as they play the NFL games live. With the time change, the first game starts at 7 here. Knowing what this is going to be like -- I have already done all of the work for Monday morning as I figure I will be worthless until about 9.
The people in the office have also been very helpful in suggesting what to do on weekends. However, I did uncover a conspiracy between Herve and Coby to prevent anyone from talking to me about Mont Blanc -- which is just a few miles away and visible from the office window. Apparently, you can take a tram 2/3 of the way up to the top. They were hoping I wouldn't find out. I did -- but got vetoed until the spring thaw.
Food
I am going to cheat a bit and blend some of the days together by topic...
The food here is amazing. We also argue whole heartedly against the concept that American portions are larger. I have gained weight on this trip. I know it -- but I can't stop eating. Everytime I go into the cafeteria and say that I am just going to get a salad, that is it and I am going to be good today -- I get completely distracted by the wall of tarts and desserts. The Swiss chefs are malicious and evil. ...but how can it be wrong if it tastes so right!?! (but I digress).
I have been able to guess quite well at what things are and I have only been surprised a couple of times. 1) I thought that I was getting a carrot thing and it turned out to be a winter squash thing. 2) I thought I was getting regular creme brulee and it was a nutmeg version.
Raclette
For example the sheer goodness of the food, one night we drove to a nearby town in France for Raclette. Raclette, for those of you who may not know (I had never heard of it) is about 1/8 of a big round of cheese (Raclette) that they set near a moveable heat lamp for 2 people to each adjust. As the cheese melts, you scrape it up/off and put it on potatoes, meats or bread.
So the waiter brings out this massive thing and a bottle of wine. He opens the wine and offers me the cork. I am thinking, "Buddy, I am about to eat 2-3 pounds of cheese -- a cork is the last thing I need. I might, however, need your corkscrew if you are looking to offer up a gift."
Hunting Season
We are also here during hunting season which means that we have choices of red deer, reindeer, wild boar and other cute cuddly animals that are quite tasty with bread and sides. I have not gotten to the wild boar, but there is a restaurant whose name translates to "The Carnivore" which we are targeting for this week.
The first day in the cafeteria I had venison stew. The first night out I had my first foie gras (goose liver) and venison steak. The next day for lunch I had a venison something or other... At this point, someone would expect to hear a nice little DEER God!
Prices
Fondue -- awesome. Raclette -- awesome. Having 12 choices for outstanding tarts -- awesome. Having to pay 20-25 USD for lunch. Ouch.
We finally realized how some of the extreme prices were occurring. For lunch, a 1/2 liter (20 oz) bottle of "Coke Light" is 4 Francs = $3.20. It would be about 2 dollars cheaper if I drank beer. I moved to water. Dinner is just an expectation to go middle of the road with the menu to pay about $25 to $30. I am REALLY glad that I am on an expense account
Ordering
I have tried very hard to only speak French when ordering. I usually get a decent distance into it before there is a bit of eye rolling and they switch to English. However, I was very proud to say that yesterday (Saturday) I made it through the whole process, no worries. It went something like this...
- Bonjour Monsieur (Hello sir.)
- Bonjour Monsieur, Deux, s'il vous plait. (Hello sir back. 2 please)
- Fumer ou non-fumer (Smoking or non)
- Fumer (Smoking for Coby)
- blah blah blah Order (something about are we ready to order)
- Oui, Raclette pour deux et une assiette a frites (Yes, Raclette for 2 and basket of fries)
- Oui, bon choice blah blah blah (okay, good choice and then something about what to drink)
- Deux l'eau (two waters)
- Avec gasse ou non (with gas or not)
- Avec, merci (bubbly thanks)
- Oui, monsieur (Yes sir)
...and then he delivered the food and told us in perfect English, "Careful, the plate is hot"
The food here is amazing. We also argue whole heartedly against the concept that American portions are larger. I have gained weight on this trip. I know it -- but I can't stop eating. Everytime I go into the cafeteria and say that I am just going to get a salad, that is it and I am going to be good today -- I get completely distracted by the wall of tarts and desserts. The Swiss chefs are malicious and evil. ...but how can it be wrong if it tastes so right!?! (but I digress).
I have been able to guess quite well at what things are and I have only been surprised a couple of times. 1) I thought that I was getting a carrot thing and it turned out to be a winter squash thing. 2) I thought I was getting regular creme brulee and it was a nutmeg version.
Raclette
For example the sheer goodness of the food, one night we drove to a nearby town in France for Raclette. Raclette, for those of you who may not know (I had never heard of it) is about 1/8 of a big round of cheese (Raclette) that they set near a moveable heat lamp for 2 people to each adjust. As the cheese melts, you scrape it up/off and put it on potatoes, meats or bread.
So the waiter brings out this massive thing and a bottle of wine. He opens the wine and offers me the cork. I am thinking, "Buddy, I am about to eat 2-3 pounds of cheese -- a cork is the last thing I need. I might, however, need your corkscrew if you are looking to offer up a gift."
Hunting Season
We are also here during hunting season which means that we have choices of red deer, reindeer, wild boar and other cute cuddly animals that are quite tasty with bread and sides. I have not gotten to the wild boar, but there is a restaurant whose name translates to "The Carnivore" which we are targeting for this week.
The first day in the cafeteria I had venison stew. The first night out I had my first foie gras (goose liver) and venison steak. The next day for lunch I had a venison something or other... At this point, someone would expect to hear a nice little DEER God!
Prices
Fondue -- awesome. Raclette -- awesome. Having 12 choices for outstanding tarts -- awesome. Having to pay 20-25 USD for lunch. Ouch.
We finally realized how some of the extreme prices were occurring. For lunch, a 1/2 liter (20 oz) bottle of "Coke Light" is 4 Francs = $3.20. It would be about 2 dollars cheaper if I drank beer. I moved to water. Dinner is just an expectation to go middle of the road with the menu to pay about $25 to $30. I am REALLY glad that I am on an expense account
Ordering
I have tried very hard to only speak French when ordering. I usually get a decent distance into it before there is a bit of eye rolling and they switch to English. However, I was very proud to say that yesterday (Saturday) I made it through the whole process, no worries. It went something like this...
- Bonjour Monsieur (Hello sir.)
- Bonjour Monsieur, Deux, s'il vous plait. (Hello sir back. 2 please)
- Fumer ou non-fumer (Smoking or non)
- Fumer (Smoking for Coby)
- blah blah blah Order (something about are we ready to order)
- Oui, Raclette pour deux et une assiette a frites (Yes, Raclette for 2 and basket of fries)
- Oui, bon choice blah blah blah (okay, good choice and then something about what to drink)
- Deux l'eau (two waters)
- Avec gasse ou non (with gas or not)
- Avec, merci (bubbly thanks)
- Oui, monsieur (Yes sir)
...and then he delivered the food and told us in perfect English, "Careful, the plate is hot"
Departure, Arrival and Apologies
All -- thanks for sending the kind little reminders that I was behind in keeping this up. It does make me feel good to know that folks are reading it. We have just had 12-16 hour days for this trip followed by lengthy dinners, and so sleep won out over creative writing.
Departure
Dad picked me up at home and dropped me off at the airport. I, of course, was there 2 hours prior to departure as they say you should. After check-in (line of 2) and security (line of 0) -- I made it to the gate with only 1:55 to spare. Phew.
I have only made the "medallion" status on 1 out of 4 airlines for this year -- so I am limited to 50 pounds per bag. I took more this time as laundry is so expensive, but limited myself to 1 bag to save room and in order to receive less antagonizing from my colleagues. Unfortunately, my bag was 53 pounds. The lady asked if there was anything that I could do to lessen my weight. Looking down at my potbelly, I thought "apparently not". I should also note that when I pack I really do focus on balance, weight, breakage, wrinking and space -- so the thought of opening up my suitcase and readjusting was not, as we would say here, brilliant! I also had carefully packed most of the extra electronic equipment to set up our conference room in the suitcase so that I had a very minimal amount in my carry on in order to fit better in the puddle jumper initial flight out of Lexington. Sigh. So I took my three sweaters out of the suitcase and rammed them ever so gently into my backpack. Weigh in now successful -- however, as expected, the backpack would not fit in the carryon...
We met up in Newark and Coby got us into the medallion lounge. We pigged out on cheese and crackers with little concept that we would be sick of the same in a short week's time.
Our flight left Newark on time and was relatively uneventful. I continued my stellar streak of sitting near a screaming baby. However, as I was going away for about 3 weeks, this method of birth control was a bit unnecessary. The movies were "Talledega Nights" and "Pirates of the Caribbean - Dead Man's Chest". I started/finished my book -- A Simple Plan.
Arrival
We arrived in Geneva the next morning and went through customs with no issue. (I had to ask for a stamp for the passport. ) We got our car and couldn't get out of the parking space as the dashboard and manual were in German -- and the parking break required a Ctrl-Alt-Delete combination to turn it off. 15 minutes and an exasperated parking attendant later, we were good to go.
The hotel is about 2 miles from the airport. We were not able to check in for a few more hours to shower -- so we went downtown for a bit. For the hotel, the rooms are very small but relatively efficient. The odd thing is that the bathroom door will actually swing inwards and lock off the toilet from the rest of the bathroom, so that there is access to the sink/shower while someone is dropping the kids off at the pool. However, if you are (a) unfamiliar with this approach and (2) very tired from not sleeping for about 36 hours -- it can be a bit confusing. Picture this... I walk into the room and set my bags down and go into the bathroom. I see only a sink and shower. Having seen bathrooms all over the world, I thought maybe this was a Swiss thing. I figured I was fine 1/2 the time, but looking between the sink and shower -- the other 1/2 of the time was going to be a bit messy.
Geneva downtown was a nice mix of modern and old. We drove/walked around -- but I really was in too much of an insomniacal stupor to remember much. We did mark the location of the McDonald's to come back for Coby.
Departure
Dad picked me up at home and dropped me off at the airport. I, of course, was there 2 hours prior to departure as they say you should. After check-in (line of 2) and security (line of 0) -- I made it to the gate with only 1:55 to spare. Phew.
I have only made the "medallion" status on 1 out of 4 airlines for this year -- so I am limited to 50 pounds per bag. I took more this time as laundry is so expensive, but limited myself to 1 bag to save room and in order to receive less antagonizing from my colleagues. Unfortunately, my bag was 53 pounds. The lady asked if there was anything that I could do to lessen my weight. Looking down at my potbelly, I thought "apparently not". I should also note that when I pack I really do focus on balance, weight, breakage, wrinking and space -- so the thought of opening up my suitcase and readjusting was not, as we would say here, brilliant! I also had carefully packed most of the extra electronic equipment to set up our conference room in the suitcase so that I had a very minimal amount in my carry on in order to fit better in the puddle jumper initial flight out of Lexington. Sigh. So I took my three sweaters out of the suitcase and rammed them ever so gently into my backpack. Weigh in now successful -- however, as expected, the backpack would not fit in the carryon...
We met up in Newark and Coby got us into the medallion lounge. We pigged out on cheese and crackers with little concept that we would be sick of the same in a short week's time.
Our flight left Newark on time and was relatively uneventful. I continued my stellar streak of sitting near a screaming baby. However, as I was going away for about 3 weeks, this method of birth control was a bit unnecessary. The movies were "Talledega Nights" and "Pirates of the Caribbean - Dead Man's Chest". I started/finished my book -- A Simple Plan.
Arrival
We arrived in Geneva the next morning and went through customs with no issue. (I had to ask for a stamp for the passport. ) We got our car and couldn't get out of the parking space as the dashboard and manual were in German -- and the parking break required a Ctrl-Alt-Delete combination to turn it off. 15 minutes and an exasperated parking attendant later, we were good to go.
The hotel is about 2 miles from the airport. We were not able to check in for a few more hours to shower -- so we went downtown for a bit. For the hotel, the rooms are very small but relatively efficient. The odd thing is that the bathroom door will actually swing inwards and lock off the toilet from the rest of the bathroom, so that there is access to the sink/shower while someone is dropping the kids off at the pool. However, if you are (a) unfamiliar with this approach and (2) very tired from not sleeping for about 36 hours -- it can be a bit confusing. Picture this... I walk into the room and set my bags down and go into the bathroom. I see only a sink and shower. Having seen bathrooms all over the world, I thought maybe this was a Swiss thing. I figured I was fine 1/2 the time, but looking between the sink and shower -- the other 1/2 of the time was going to be a bit messy.
Geneva downtown was a nice mix of modern and old. We drove/walked around -- but I really was in too much of an insomniacal stupor to remember much. We did mark the location of the McDonald's to come back for Coby.
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