Why I Love Geneva

-I had lunch at a French restaurant (Brasserie Lipp, if you’re caring,) and my bœuf tartare came with its own little box of sea salt with its own tiny spoon. The person next to me had a tartare-style tuna sashimi, and his came with a different kind of special salt. Like with bottled fizzy water, there’s probably a negligible taste difference, but ooh it makes you feel so fancy!
-Finally, I know why anyone ever serves mignionette: it’s for very salty oysters. It cuts the salt dramatically, leaving delicious briny flavors without the thirstiness.
-The town is beautiful, with a lake in the center and a fountain in the lake.
-There’s no valet parking anywhere, even though the town is totally geared towards the wealthy. I love this – it’s so different from, say, L.A.
-There are lots of older, European men here on business who have fantastic suits and shoes. One man had a sober, light grey suit with a fairly plain purpley plaid tie (oh, yeah, purple plaid ties are getting plainer and plainer these days,) and somewhat suave hair and glasses but nothing too fancy. When he got up from his chair, I saw the inside of his jacket, which was a shockingly rich dark pink. Just lovely.
-The most notable thing, though, is the skin quality here – it looks as though people spent their first forty years in a quiet, dark place to minimize pores and freckling, then came out into the sun, got a great gold-pink-bronze glowing tan, and have spent the remainder of the time finding the perfect shirt color to bring out the exceptional tone and color of their necks. I don’t know what kind of shaving cream men use here, but it is magic.
-And, last but not least, when I came into the airport lounge (where I am now writing this, thanks to the magic of SwissAir and the Star Alliance,) at the lounge check-in counter there were After Eight mints. Heaven!

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