Anarchists on the Rhône - Photo Jared Bloch

Geneva, Switzerland – The dog days of summer have seemed longer than ever with temperatures regularly tipping 34 degrees in mid-August.

I’ve been escaping more than ever this year to the shores of Lake Geneva, and more recently, to the shady banks of the Rhône below our neighborhood. Apparently, Geneva Anarchists are doing the same.

Yesterday, 22 August, afternoon I came across what appeared to be organized anarchy on the Rhône; 100 or so would be river men, women, and not a few river babies, launching their homemade rafts and inflatable dingys along the Quai du Seujet.

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Rue de St. Jean Celebration

The last time my parents visited Geneva, my father was reminiscing about his ski bum days in Northern Vermont 40+ years ago, and the fact that a number of the instructors at that time were from Switzerland. I am often stricken by the similarities between my home state of Vermont, USA and its inhabitants, and many parts of Switzerland.

This weekend of course marks the end to another year of celebrating the Genevoise counterattack against the Savoyards in 1602, to defend the city of Geneva from the interlopers.  In addition to the still awe inspiring historical reenactment of the battle and its Swiss protagonists, I am especially partial to the neighborhood street parades that unfold in the urban villages that make up Geneva, and which remind me of the Bread and Puppet street theatre I grew up with.

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In true North American fashion, I am accustomed to being served copious amounts of food when eating out, or at least I was until moving to Geneva. There is certainly no shortage of filling or “heavy” food in the Swiss diet; think fondu, frites, raclette, croissants, and of course chocolate. However, I still find it a rare occasion (close to never) that I am served a plate of food in Geneva that will leave me 100% satisfied and not craving just a bit more of dinner.

Menu for all tastes in St. Gallen

I have to say on balance, that I think of this more and more as a healthy phenomenon in and of itself. But there are days meant for eating soul food, I call those days weekends, when really I am concerned less with eating well, than with the notion of burying myself in a pile of shaved lamb meat.

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View of Geneva from the Lake

When I first came to Geneva, I arrived with three suitcases and a passport. My first weeks were spent walking from a rented room to my office, in typically cold and wet January weather.

While I lamented not having a car during those first ear tingling winter days, I soon found that Geneva was small enough to accommodate a carless existence. And by my second month, I began questioning the need for a vehicle altogether.

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