Autumn in Geneva, Switzerland

When my friends learned I was doing a side trip to Geneva after Madrid, they all said it would be costly. To my defense, I’d always reply, “Why not?”. The truth is Geneva has been on my bucket list since high school. Geneva was a great start to my Switzerland adventure from CERN to the famous Jet d’Eau and the home of Swiss Knife and Patek Philippe. For four days, I explored Geneva and the nearby towns around the lake and got enamored by its beauty, grandeur, and quiet luxury.

We left sunny Madrid, and the flight to Geneva only took an hour and a half. Upon initial descent, we flew through thick clouds and rain before banking to the right, flying over the northeastern part of Lake Geneva. Autumn was about to start as specks of orange and red dotted the green foliage of the Swiss-French forest at the west of Lake Geneva. It was gloomy and cold as I waited for my bus, which would take me to my hotel. It was just a kilometer away from the airport. Check-in was a breeze, and as a tourist, I am entitled to free use of public transportation within the city limits. All I needed was to pay 11 francs for the tax. I stayed at B&B Hotel Geneva, and it’s located near the tram station, making it accessible to the old town.

Geneva’s old town in the rain has a distinctive charm, especially for a first-time visitor. The streets, winding and cobblestone-laden, seem to glisten under the overcast sky and heavy raindrops, creating an atmosphere both serene and mysterious. At 12 degrees, there’s a crisp chill in the air, adding a cozy appeal to each stop along the way. You’d likely catch glimpses of Geneva’s hallmark landmarks—St. Peter’s Cathedral stands stoically despite the weather, its old stone facades radiating a quiet strength, and Maison Tavel, which takes on a muted yet inviting appearance, as though sheltering you from the rain.

Between brief dashes from one narrow street to another, with rain pelting down, every corner holds a quiet, almost intimate beauty. The old town’s centuries-old charm seems to deepen, with fewer crowds to distract, and even the cafés tucked into street corners feel like hidden havens in the downpour. Despite the rain, the experience seems to leave a lasting, warm impression, as if the city offers you a quiet, memorable glimpse into its soul.

My day in Geneva started with a visit to CERN, and I could hardly contain my excitement. Being face-to-face with the world's largest particle physics laboratory was like stepping into a dream for anyone with a love for science. Wandering through the exhibitions and learning about the discoveries made here—like the Higgs boson—was as thrilling as I’d imagined. Seeing the Large Hadron Collider’s technology up close was mind-blowing, and it’s a visit that left me with endless awe and a few fun facts I’ll be dropping for years!

Leaving CERN, I visited the Patek Philippe Museum, which felt like stepping into a horological wonderland. Being a big fan of Patek Philippe timepieces, this museum was more than just a collection; it was a history of luxury and precision. From antique watches dating back centuries to modern masterpieces, each piece highlighted Patek Philippe’s dedication to craftsmanship. The museum itself is elegant, each display beautifully organized, making it feel less like a museum and more like a gallery showcasing masterpieces of time. For anyone with a passion for watches, this is a must-visit.

I wrapped up my day by strolling through Jardin Anglais, an elegant park along Lake Geneva. The paths winding through lush greenery led to a stunning view of the Jet d'Eau, Geneva’s famous fountain. Standing close to it, I was captivated by the fountain’s strength and beauty as it shot water 140 meters into the air, framed by the lake and distant mountains. The sound of the water and the glistening spray made for a perfect, refreshing end to the day.

Geneva has many facets, from scientific exploration to high-end craftsmanship and natural beauty—each stop brought something special. I’ll be back to explore more of what this sophisticated city has to offer!

Hiking through Saint-Cergue was a symphony of earthy trails and crisp mountain air, where every turn opened up to breathtaking views that stretched across the Swiss countryside. Seeing Mont Blanc from afar was a treat! After hours on the trails, I indulged in Swiss cold cuts and rich, creamy cheese fondue—a perfect alpine feast that tasted even better under the open sky. Later, we drove to Versoix and found ourselves gliding across Lake Geneva’s clear, cool waters, feeling the gentle rock of the boat as the wind guided us along. The lake was a deep blue, and the Alps stood majestically in the distance, making each moment on the water a peaceful and unforgettable counterpoint to the thrill of the mountains.

On a quiet Sunday morning in Old Town Geneva, the streets felt made for wandering. With most stores closed, there was a calmness in the air, as if the city was taking a restful breath—cobblestone lanes wound between stone buildings that stood solemnly, stories from centuries past echoing in their facades. I took my time exploring, passing St. Peter’s Cathedral and peering through wrought-iron gates into serene courtyards. It was as though the city had revealed a hidden side of itself—a stillness that allowed its history and beauty to shine truly.

As the day drew on and a chill set in, I craved a hearty meal and wandered until I found an inviting Asian restaurant, hoping for something warm and comforting. The aromatic dishes seemed promising, so I ordered a flavorful curry and settled in, enjoying the ambiance and expecting a simple, satisfying meal. But when the bill arrived, I felt a slight shock: 35 francs for a single dish. It was a reminder that Geneva, even in its quieter moments, holds its surprises! Smiling to myself, I paid the bill, feeling that this unique, surprising Sunday adventure in Old Town Geneva was well worth every franc.

Leaving Geneva, I feel as though I am unspooling myself from a rare, intricate weave of civility and restraint—a place so carefully composed it’s as if nothing here has ever been truly hurried. The city moves in a disciplined hush; trams and buses slink through the streets with understated elegance, each arriving on time with a quiet sigh of predictability. Even the fountains—those generous, anonymous sources of the purest water—seem to express an effortless humility, just waiting to refresh anyone who bothers to pause and drink. And the air, crisp and faintly alpine, carries a gentle chastening quality, as though it too understands the virtue of restraint.

Geneva is not a place of spectacle but of subdued harmony, where nature and human ambition appear to have struck a truce long ago. The mountains rest around it like silent, noble sentries, and the lake, unfazed by the city’s motion, lies there with a stillness that reflects every detail of the sky above. In my last moments, I find myself lingering, breathing deeper, absorbing Geneva’s understated balance. It’s a reminder that a city need not astonish to enrich; its quieter gifts might leave the deepest mark.