going home

Most cities are calm on Sunday. Or calmer, because ultimately, if the weather is good, people do come out. Geneva, at least in the district where I stayed, is not only calm, it is completely zonked out. I stepped out of my hotel this morning, looked this way, looked that way...

Dead. 

I suspected it would feel closed and shuttered when I noticed that no stores open on Sunday. Too, it's a little chilly still. Especially in the early hours. So -- nothing's stirring.

I had eaten breakfast in my little room at the Cigogne. Not that I felt the need to eat in bed.

It was more of a precaution. Infection rates in Switzerland are not exactly low enough to make me want to gratuitously take off my mask in a public dining room and I wasn't sure how crowded it would be. We received many encouragements to order breakfast in the room and so I thought there must be a good reason for it.

Not that I ate much. It's unfortunate to waste this much food, so I made a good effort, but I know I have three flights, and plenty of sitting time. It's not a day for heavy eating.

I took a taxi to the airport. It's only some twenty minutes away (on emptied out streets) and normally I would take the train, but I wasn't going to push it. Might there be traveling crowds? I have skis and a suitcase and a backpack. It's awkward.

We arrived at the airport and it was the same as last week -- total chaos. Long lines, basically standing still, with someone shouting again and again -- Easy Jet, over here, Easy Jet, over here! From what I could tell, "the system" had gone down and everything was running behind schedule. It was impressive then that my Air France flight took off 5 minutes ahead of planned departure.

I had a family with three toddlers behind me. The father suggested, apologetically and in beautiful French, that I perhaps might want to switch seats so that I would sit in front of his little girl rather than in front of his little boy. She's more calm, he said with a "what are you gonna do" expression on his face. Of course, I insisted that the boy wont bother me with his tiny little legs barely reaching my chair. I want to be supportive of parents who fly with little ones. Did I regret it? Let's just say it was a short flight.

Bye Geneva with the tall fountain in the lake..

... and the mountains, hidden behind a layer of haze.

It was grand to be in this part of the world for one short week.

In Paris it's the usual long walk, lots of rechecks and controls, the type of stuff that irritates Ed more than it irritates me. It's something that you mindlessly tolerate. If you start complaining about inconvenience then you may as well stay home and suffer none of it. Travel is rarely without its small snafus. Sort of like life.

I continued on Air France from Paris, all the way to Detroit. Again, I was lucky. We'd had quite the storms and hefty winds in the Midwest. Had I been returning yesterday, I would have had delays and cancellations. As it is, I had plenty of time in Detroit to make my connection and by 10:30p.m. I was driving home to the farmette.

I made it just before the snow came!

So let me offer a post scriptum to this week away. As always I was immensely torn: to write carefully, or to spend the day lost in the mountains, with only the late, late evening hours left to scribble notes on Ocean. Never do I want to say so much with so little time to think it all through as when I travel. No matter. Stuff stays with you in ways you don't fully appreciate until weeks later.

Still, it was very strange to be leaving a Europe at war. If you had asked me how I saw the year 2022 on the eve of the New Year, I would have worried about the pandemic, the climate, a thousand other issues big and small. I would not have thought to worry about the people in the Ukraine, or Poland for that matter, or any other nation within Russia's perceived reach. And here I am, not even done with winter, worried about all those horrors, feeling the need to stay informed to the max, even as there's very little you or I can do to help those who are so in need of help right now. Except -- be smart and stay informed. We owe them that.

At home, Ed is immersed in his projects, Dance is meowing in welcoming ways, the chickens are in the coop, all five thriving still. No predator managed to tear apart their peaceful night. Lucky chickens. Lucky us.

Good night from the farmhouse, with love...