Yet another lazy morning and most of the day spent taking the train back to Geneva. As the train left the high altitudes, the blue-bird skies turned to manic-depressive grey. I didn't get back to Geneva until 17:00, and by the time I made it to the downtown area most of the shops were closed. Nevertheless, I thought to visit the tourist drags of downtown before I left in the morning to make the day worthwhile.
I stepped out of Gare Cornavin, the train station in downtown Geneva, heading towards the lake-front. Several dozen cops clad in bullet-proof armour swarmed the station. At the edge of the perimeter, one of them checked underneath a parked car for some hidden danger. I paced on with a casual pace so as not to attract attention to myself.
With the exception of brightly lit signs advertising luxury brands and the names of banks, there wasn't much hustle-and-bustle near the lake front. I crossed the waterway on a narrow bridge to make a brief pit-stop through Geneva's equivalent of "5th Ave". Again, everything was closed but at least I can say I've been. So far the day had been uneventful.
View Larger MapI took the pedestrian walkway along Pont du Mont Blanc. It was a larger bridge with passing cars, and there were several pedestrians crossing it. I saw a young couple heading in the opposite direction appearing distraught. They looked back at three men several yards farther down. They were circling. (Internal dialog: "A fight? No.") I hesitated, thinking of turning back, but one of them seemed to walk away and the other two just loitered like two drunk frat boys. ("Maybe it was nothing. Just keep walking.") The previous couple's troubled body language kept me more alert of my surroundings.
I saw their faces when I got within 4 feet of them. One of the two guys locked eyes with me. My face was emotionless as I walked passed him. He seemed to skip backwards as I passed him and said something in French. I didn't stop walking and gave him a quick glance of "I don't know WTF you are talking about." Feigning drunkenness, he walked alongside me and tried to wrap his arm around my shoulder and dig some silly soccer celebratory dance while singing "Futbol! Futbol!". He urged me to join him, but I maintained my soldier like march hoping to send a passive-aggressive message that I was not interested. His friend suspiciously looked on and maintained some distance. Something did not seem right when the "drunk" guy's arm seemed to wrestle mine with his hand above my shoulder and his elbow locking mine... then a reach toward the wallet. I re-positioned my arm to block. He did not relent with the singing and dancing, and started doing a cossack dance. His adjacent left seemed to try to lock mine. The last time that I found myself in this position was in a martial arts-based self-defense class. Things seemed to add up. His dancing took on a more aggressive undertone. (Internal dialog: "You're trying to knock me off balance, aren't you?") I stood my ground and used my weight advantage to reverse the position, positioned my right foot behind his and shoved HARD at his shoulder. ("Maybe they were waiting for me to fall before taking my wallet... the second guy as backup. Who knows...")
He looked back confused. I glared back silently, F'ing pissed and continuing to march on. Other pedestrians were gradually approaching us from both sides of the bridge, and these guys seemed young - just looking for quick cash. I would not have escaped this if the 2nd guy joined in, or if they concealed weapons. Were they pick-pockets or muggers? I'm glad I didn't find out.
I steamed bitterly as I walked toward an area near the train stations full of restaurants. Geneva was beginning to leave a bad taste in my mouth. The cure? Binge on some good food. (Amanda, contrary to popular belief, I didn't go for the Asian food.) I found a Moroccan restaurant /hookah bar called Al Manzil. The waitress was nice but only spoke French. My Italian and Spanish didn't work with her, so I did my best to assemble the 13 French words I knew and my understanding of French phonetics to order. Great food - chicken with a citrus confit and a variety of vegetable "pastes?" that you eat with a type of thick flat bread. 19:00 was still early for outside dining, so the restaurant was only sparsely populated. I opened up Facebook on my iPhone for dinner company. (Yes, sad.)
I made it back to the airport quite safely. The later it got, the more (non-dodgy) people there were roaming around. The great thing about "shitey" experiences is that it gives you a story to tell on even the most dull of days.
(If my parents read this story, they'll probably be hesitant to let me visit the Vatican on my own... even if I've hiked in New Zealand wilderness alone.
)
Today's Expenses
- 330.00 CHF - 2 nights stay at Hotel Allalin in Zermatt
- 33.00 CHF - 2nd class one-way train ticket from Zermatt to Visp
- 59.00 CHF - 2nd class one-way train ticket from Visp to Geneva Airport
- 7.00 CHF - All Day Geneva Transit Pass
- 71.60 CHF - 2kg of Swiss chocolate & misc. souvenirs
- 7.00 CHF - Random snackage for the train ride
- 50.00 CHF - Dinner and tip at Al Manzil
- 0.00 CHF - Your Ass Kicked
Labels: Geneva, mugging, train
