Clash Of The Titans

I was on the bus with the little chick and I saw something that I'm sure must be rather common, but it's the first time I came across it. It was a bus driver chewing out a taxi driver.

Now the traffic laws in Geneva are, shall we say, sporadically enforced. But things happen in degrees.

Pedestrians don't follow any rules. In a lot of ways, this makes sense, since the whole traffic flow is based around them. They pretty much walk where they want, when they want, and it's not unusual to see people just walking out to cross a busy 4 or even 6-lane street, expecting that everyone will stop for them, because people do.

Bikes are only slightly better than pedestrians. Red lights mean nothing to them... when they get to an intersection, they tend to just take a look around and keep right on going. As a pedestrian, I can tell you they're tricky - since they don't obey red lights and you can't hear them coming, they can be tough to avoid, even when you're walking with a green light.

Scooters kind of obey lights. If they are going to get around them, they don't usually just run them - they will go up on the sidewalk at a red light, go across the pedestrian crossing, and continue from the sidewalk on the other side. They don't like lanes, but when I am driving, I'm usually quite content to have them zip through... at least that means it's one less car waiting at a 3-second green light in front of me.

Buses are a nightmare. They generally disregard the rules and just assume they have the right of way. If they're signaling, they don't wait for much of a break before pulling out. Even at pedestrian crossings, if I don't step out and walk in front of them, they will never stop, even though I have the right of way. And when I do step out, they often appear rather pissed off. Probably because they had to slam on the brakes to stop, probably because they were not planning on obeying the law and I surprised them. So I'm not a big fan of buses.

Taxis... well, taxis all over the world are the same, I think. They have this idea that, since they drive a lot, the rules that apply to everyone else shouldn't really apply to them. They will drive in the turning lane to force their way at the last moment into the one going straight, rather than sitting in line with everyone else. And I remember taxi drivers in Calgary one time protesting that they should have different fines for traffic violations since they're always on the road and their livelihood depends on them being able to keep their license and pay their insurance (which, there, goes up as you collect infractions). Kind of like lowering the penalties for bank robberies for people who work in a bank. I mean, around all that money every day, who can expect them not to slip up once in a while? Except that when a bank employee decides to rob the bank, people aren't quite as likely to die as when taxi decides to run a red.

And then there are the regular cars, who, for the most part, drive pretty well. Certainly, there are more cars on the road than anything else, but the vast majority of the problems are caused by other people.

So it was pretty interesting to see a bus, signaling and then pulling out even though there wasn't space for him, being honked at by a taxi who was half in the lane of the oncoming traffic, to be honked back at by the bus who then proceeded to see how close he could get to the taxi's rear bumper until he pulled beside him at a light, rolled down his window, and started to explain to him how things are supposed to work.

Only problem was, I couldn't tell who I should be rooting for. Tough call, that.

Sunrise

I was out with a friend last night and, while we were walking by the lake, I saw a field of wildflowers that I wanted to shoot in early morning light.

So here's the problem: the light is really good for about 10 minutes before sunrise and maybe twice that long after. And the sun comes up about 6:15.

There aren't many days that I have to sleep in. The little chick is here to wake me up Saturdays, Mondays, and Tuesdays. Wednesday I'm usually off to the airport, and Friday I meet to talk and pray with some friends at 7:30. That leaves Thursdays, which don't really pan out well since I have to go to work, and Sundays.

Getting up at 5:30 is not a huge deal, I guess, but between work and concerts lately, I was reluctant to give up that sleep. Still, I wanted the shots, and I had been curious for a while about what sunrises over the lake could look like. Art won out over practicality, and here are a few of the shots that I got...

You can see more here.

Doping On The Tour De France

I don't believe it. Next, they're going to tell us that baseball players are doping, too.

More Concert Pictures

I went to Paleo on Wednesday with Chris and Sue and a whole bunch of their Canadian friends (okay, there were a few others mixed in, but they were polite enough to blend and didn't seem phased by hearing a lot of "eh"). It was a really cool time... for me, if Montreux is all about the music, Paleo is all about the atmosphere. Space to dance, plenty of shows to move between, and feeling like, yeah, this is summer. It's a beautiful thing.


This guy, Donovan Frankenreiter, may have the worst name in all of rock. But he can play not bad, he sings his heart out, his band is solid and his songs are goooood.... catchy southern rock, and a great way to start the evening out.

Clap Your Hands, Say Yeah wins my award as best band name I've heard... maybe forever. It was not a bad show, but they seem to me to be the band in search of a chorus. I kept waiting for something catchy, and it just never got there. I think a large part of it was the drumming... the drummer would build a tune on the toms and then.... just stay on the toms. I wanted to climb on stage and beg him to pound that snare and kick-start the whole thing, but he was just not having it, and it felt a lot like riding with someone who's going just a little too fast in second gear... if they would just shift, nothing else would have to change and it could feel so much better. Maybe pop and indie don't mix, I don't know, but these boys certainly embrace the indie image pretty enthusiastically...

Next up was Arcade Fire. They're from Canada, as everyone kept telling me, so I should know them. Two things: I'm not going to get into it here, but they're from Quebec; also, I don't live there any more.

I didn't get any pictures of them. I ended up standing in a bit of low ground, making me feel rather like I do when talking to a crowd of my Swedish friends (who are all about 6" taller than I am), and I was kind of busy dancing. So, sorry.


I only heard a bit of Midlake, but what I heard sounded really, really good. Cool and groovy, they reminded me a bit of Josh Rouse. Similar relaxed vibe, and I was sad that I wasn't able to see more of their show.


I had to miss it, though, to get some noodles and do a bit of carb-loading to get my energy up for the last set - Björk. Unfortunately, it turns out that her new album is not that groovalicious, and my precious carbs went more or less unused. It was interesting to see her, but I think once will be enough for me. I did realize during her set, though, that I really, really want to see AC/DC some time. Anyone up for a road trip?

As usual, you can see some more pictures here.

Clubbibg Baby

As in "seals". Here are the shots I managed to take with my little digicam and, thanks to Aaron, keep from his concert. The man certainly puts on a good show...

The Mean Streets Of Geneva

Here are a few more shots from the street near my office. I love the variety of people here, and on a day like today, it's nice just to see something with a little bit of sun in it.

These guys saw me and decided to put on a little show. I can see you....




This guy looks like a bird to me. A very elegant bird, but still a bird.




Hair and ice cream. All I'm missing is wind.

You can see more of my pictures here.

For The Protection Of The Artists

I finished up the Montreux season on Saturday night with their last concert of the year, Seal. There was a Dutch sax chick as the first act who was really good (and my first almost-jazz of the year there), and then Jimmy Cliff. I'm not a reggae guy, but Jimmy and his band put on a pretty good show. Interesting to hear someone quoting psalms, talking about mother earth and then having us all sing one more chorus as a tribute to the ancestors... I guess he's got all his bases covered. And he was flat - like, almost a semi-tone - through a couple of the tunes, but any one with the courage to wear peach satin pajamas on stage gets an "A" for effort in my books.

Seal was good, and I have the pictures to prove it. But just barely.

Aaron and I were pretty close to the front... they opened the side doors before the back one, so there was a row of people in front of us, but that was all. I had taken one or two pictures of the sax player but the security woman jumped up to tell me to stop. I found it a little strange since, at that moment, there were a dozen photographers all milling about at the edge of the stage. As far as I can figure (and I've spent some time thinking about it, now), there are three possible reasons she could be so concerned about me:

1. My camera would be a distraction to the people around me. Fair enough... I've been to shows where the whole audience is glowing as people hold up their phones to get video of the show. But with the boys and girls with the huge lenses jockeying back and forth for position 4 feet in front of me, I don't think I was in much danger of being the biggest distraction there.
2. She's concerned about the livelihood of the photographers there to capture the show. I'm sure that they all appreciate her intense interest in their ability to sell exclusive pictures, and, frankly, I'm quite flattered that she's familiar enough with my work to be concerned that, with my 6 megapixel ultra-compact point-and-shoot, I'm going to give them some competition. Rolling Stone hasn't called yet.
3. People who are attracted to working in a security capacity tend to have a lot of issues. They are fascinated with little rules, and making sure they are followed. They like to be in charge. They like to look like they are in charge. They like to let everyone know they are in charge. They are much, much better at following instructions than they are at thinking about them. I wonder if some of them lie awake at night (should that be "Lay" awake at night? I don't mean to imply any inherent dishonesty) planning their ascension to the revered position of parking cop.

I wish is was otherwise, but from what I've seen of security people - and, over the many shows I've been to, I've seen a lot - the third reason seems to be the most compelling by far.

People are being crushed? There's not much we can do about that. The guy behind me just lit up his sixth joint of the evening in a non-smoking room? C'est la vie. But I'm trying to take a picture?

STOP THE SHOW!

Eventually, the security people moved away and we were able to get right up to the stage, meaning two things: first, I was close enough to finally get a couple decent shots, and second, that they were too far away to bother me any more.

Well, I was wrong about the second bit.

Partway through Seal, Aaron tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around.

"Put away your camera."

Now, I don't know if you know Aaron, but he is a laid-back guy. We've hung out for a while, and I think this was the first time I remember him saying anything near that direct. So I put away my camera. And 30 seconds later, the big chief security guy came through the crowd. He stepped up to a guy 3 feet from me (Sandro, who I had actually met in line before Norah Jones), and demanded his camera. He stood there, at the front of the crowd, and made him go through and delete each and every shot from the concert, and then he took him out. To beat him, probably, though I doubt we'll ever hear about it.

So I didn't take any more pictures. But it really bothers me: don't these people know that the hype for their festivals is fed by blogs and fan clubs? Nobody seeing somebody's cell phone video on YouTube is going to say, "well, that was good - I guess I don't even need to go see Seal, now that I've had that better-than-real-life experience".

Claude Nobbs, if you're listening: every other festival in the area allows people to take in (and actually use) small cameras. Maybe you should tell your security people to chill. Maybe they should think a little more about safety and spend a little more time handing out water and a little less trying to prevent buddy from getting a picture of Seal to use as the wallpaper on his cell phone.

Really.

Wow

I've taken the flight between Lugano and Geneva... well, most weeks for almost the last two years.

I've seen a lot of Alps, and a lot of sunsets.

But I've never seen it like it was tonight. The clouds were thick, so there was only a hint of mountain beneath them every once in a while, but far from ruining the view, that's what made it.

I've always loved clouds... I love the fantastic shapes they make, the way they seem so artificially three-dimensional poised against the flat backdrop of sky, like someone painted them there just a little too vividly to be real. I love the way the sun never leaves them unchanged... some tonight had rich, honey-colored highlights as the setting sun lit them up like giant rambling towers of wool. Some held the light within them but glowed ferociously at their edges, like they were unable to contain it. And some, dark with rain, just blotted it out and seemed, somehow, even darker and more impenetrable.

There are times when I see an absolutely stunning woman and I can't help but catch my breath - it's impossible not to react. And the flight tonight was like that, I started out absorbed in my book but by the end I was staring out the window, just wanting it to last forever. I didn't get any pictures... I knew that they would never equal what I had seen, so I didn't even try. But I wish you had been there.

It was beautiful.

How Much Information?

It can be a tricky balance.

One of the things I love about living in Europe is the fact that the waiters don't expect to be my friend. In fact, from the way many of them treat me, it's clear that they generally prefer a relationship leaning more towards the antagonistic. But there's none of this, "Hi, I'm Steve, and I'll be your waiter tonight, and I'll make all kinds of little jokes while you're watching your food get cold and probably say something a little later to make your date really uncomfortable and maybe after we can go get a milkshake together?"

I want Steve to find out what I want to eat, to bring it, to check with me once after if it's okay, and then to leave me alone until I make eye contact with him. Otherwise, I'd ask him out for dinner.

But I've had a strange situation I've encountered twice in the last while that has led me to wonder if maybe language and culture play a bigger part in this than I had realized.

In both cases, I was asking for something that was needed pretty quickly (a steak from room service, in one instance, and if that doesn't carry with it an innate urgency, I don't know what does). And in both cases, I was told, "sorry, that's not available at the moment".

And both times, my initial reaction was, "oh, okay".

I'm glad I followed up though. The conversation went something like this:

Me: "That's okay... you can just bring it up when it's ready, then. What do you think - 20 minutes? Half an hour?"
Hotel Guy: "No, I'm sorry, but it won't be available tonight."
Me: "No problem, I'm here again tomorrow. I'll call back then."
Hotel Guy: "Okay, thank you very much."
silence
Me: "I say that because the steak WILL be available tomorrow, right?"
Hotel Guy: "No sir, it won't be available tomorrow night."
Me [with remarkable composure]: "Okay, let's try this another way. Instead of me calling you every time I get hungry, how about you tell me when the steak will be available, and I'll get back to you then?"
Hotel Guy: "We won't be doing any hot food for the next two months, sir."
Me: "Okay... I'm marking it in my calendar right now... two... months... and I'll talk to you then."

Now, for me, "not available for the moment" (the phrase used in both cases) indicates that at a later (but not too distant) moment, it will be available. It doesn't make me think in terms of days, or weeks, or months.

For those of you who know things like this, is this a direct translation from Italian or French that just loses something in the process? Or am I just hungry enough that it's making me crazy?

Pink Pictures

A few shots from the show with my digicam...

[EDIT] I just realized that this is probably the most personality-free post I've ever made. I thought about doing something to make up for it, but I think it's just too late for that. Sorry.

Hurricane

Well, my mixer is still in the shop, but I figured out how to rig up my other interface to do a bit of recording, so operation "Fix The World's Incomplete Recordings" continues.

This time I added backing vocals on a tune called Hurricane, by Mindy Smith. You can download it here.

Okay, so it doesn't really fit me lyrically, but it's a gorgeous song. And she has space all over this album for me to sing along, so this won't be the last duet we do. I think I may be in love.

I'll Make You Famous

I was just watching some stuff about the Montreux Jazz Festival on the local TV station and saw a guy who had been filming some spots while I was waiting for the Beastie Boys. Interesting, I thought, that's who he was shooting for. Then they showed me, sitting in the line.

I could tell it was me because I was the only one in line. Yeah, I know what you're thinking: that's not really much of a line. And it wasn't, but it's where the line would eventually be, and so I'm going to call it the line, even if I was the only one there.

I've sometimes had people ask me about the people I shoot on the street... how would I feel if someone did that to me? Turns out I don't really mind. And it's happened for me with pictures before that I know of, and I'm guessing I've been in a few more that I didn't see. My only regret is that I don't usually get to see it after.

Maybe I don't watch enough TV.

[EDIT] Well, at least I'm not alone. As one of three people who regularly watches the Montreux update, I saw they got Natalie for a reaction coming out of a show the next night. Unfortunately, I had turned the sound down to listen to something else, so I have no idea if she enjoyed Tori Amos as much as I did when I saw her (mistakenly thinking she was Paula Cole) a few years back. More, I hope...

P!nk

Well, I decided to go see her at the Moon & Stars Festival in Locarno, Switzerland because the MNB is playing one of her tunes, and I like it a lot.

I've been to a few pure pop shows before... Robbie Williams, The Corrs, and, um... well, it seemed like more. In any case, I enjoyed those ones, and I expected to like this one. I had a hunch it wouldn't be my usual crowd, but after the night before (which was spent with my project team eating insanely overpriced Japanese food to the worst player-piano music ever) it would have to be a nice relief. I figured there would be some nice staging, and that it would be good to move to. And, of course, to sing along with.

What I didn't expect was that she can actually sing.

I thought I'd seen her on TV before, and I seem to remember it being pretty nasty. In retrospect, I guess it's not out of the realm of possibility that she was just stoned out of her mind. She seemed sober last night, and she nailed it vocally.

I was right about it not being my usual crowd, though. She seems to have a strange audience - a lot of teen girls, which I had expected. A lot of punks, which I had expected. And a lot of lesbians in their 40's which I had not expected. And, realtive to the general population, I couldn't help but notice that this last group seems to share a bit of a disturbing affinity for the hair and eye-wear stylings of Al Franken.

I'm still not sure what to do with that. Good show, though...

Helmet

I saw a guy cleaning windows, wearing a helmet. He's six stories off the ground. I can understand if he was on a bike, or even working on the first floor. But at that height, isn't it a little like a plastic bag around an egg? It may help keep things in a bit, but they're still going to get pretty scrambled. "The illusion of security" as they say in Fight Club...

It Turns Our That I'm Allergic

I've known for a while that I wasn't a big fan of hip-hop, but the Beastie Boys are different. I really dig some of their stuff ("Hey Ladies", "Sabotage", and "Fight For Your Right", only one of which they played) and was looking forward to the show at Montreux this week. Upon arriving home after, though, I was up the whole night, throwing up copiously and, I must admit, with a fair amount of relief. I don't know if it was food poisoning, a flu, or just an adverse reaction to the opening band, but something certainly did not agree with me. So, sorry for not updating sooner, but I was pretty busy.

Ah, the opening band - Spank Rock. I use the word "band" loosely, of course. It was one guy who played records, one guy who came out at the beginning to shout at us to get more excited or Spank Rock himself (themselves? it was not really clear) would never come out. I couldn't quite make out if it was a threat or a promise. There were two more guys who rapped okay (I guess? I'm not really well-qualified to judge that) and danced... well, marginally less okay. One of their girlfriends came out occasionally to shake her moneymaker, and there was another guy in a sailor shirt who just wandered around on stage taking pictures and video with a little camcorder.

There was precious little rocking, except when they played some RunDMC completely unadulterated. Nice, but hardly the making of a great show to play a record somebody else made 20 years ago. Is that all it takes to play Montreux, now? I need to get one of those application forms. Thankfully, there was also no spanking, which, I'm guessing from their lyrical content, was certainly not a foregone conclusion.

In case Spank Rock happens (it does turn out that he is one of the two featured rappers) upon my blog (and let's face it - if he's always this good, I'm guessing there aren't going to be a lot of pages coming up when he googles himself), I'm going to be charitable and give him a few hints for next time.

1. If you have to tell people they're having a good time, they may not actually be having a good time. You can substitute "party" for "good time" if it makes it easier for you to relate to.
   
2. Get rid of your warm-up guy. It's time to deal with the fact that, as an opening act, you don't get an opening act. It's cruel, but that's show business. And, frankly, he's setting the expectations just a little high.
   
3. When people stop clapping before you leave the stage, it probably means that you shouldn't come out again and do an encore. And sending out the guy in the sailor shirt to put his arms in the air to get them to clap probably didn't help. Between you and I, it came off as a little desperate, and no one likes that.
4. The yellow pants worked. I'd try to do more with the yellow pants.
   

It reminded me a bit of the time that Carlos Santana's son opened for him... Claude made it quite clear that it was at "special request" of Santana. I'm wondering if the BB have some kind of interest in Spank Rock? May be time to sell the stock, boys.

That's all for now... I need to leave something for the Annual Concert Review....

The Sun Always Shines

... in Lugano. Okay, not always, but a lot of the time. It makes for some nice pictures....

It Figures

So I've left the house without my camera, oh.... let's say twice in the last four months or so.

Seems a little obsessive, you say? I never know when I'm going to see something that should be captured. So I take it with me. And a lot of times I'm right.

I didn't take it tonight. I was going to see a country/blues concert in the park, and it was about 10 before I was leaving, and too dark to be getting many pictures unless there was really good stage lighting. So, I decided to travel light and leave the camera at home.

Well, I got three blocks from home and saw that there were firetrucks that had just arrived, and a guy getting ready to go up in the cherry-picker. No sign of smoke, but there were a lot of firemen and EMT's around. That put me in a tough spot - do I go home and get the camera, or stay and watch? I like to take pictures, but the experience is worth more than the shot, so I decided to stay.

They inflated a huge airbag, and the guy went up.

And then....

Nothing.

Eventually, I guess the nothing got a little more intense, because the municipal security guys asked me to move to the end of the block. So I moved, and things started to heat up. Regular cops started to show up, then more emergency workers. They had some people out of the building and were interviewing them, which would have been pretty interesting, I bet, if I had had any idea what they were saying. The SWAT team arrived, and started carrying battering rams and compressed air canisters into the apartment.

Before I get to the (inevitably exciting) conclusion, I thought it was really interesting how differently people reacted to the single block or so being shut down. The municipal security guys (more or less meter-maids, as far as I can figure... they don't get to carry guns) were asking people to go around the back of the block. Some people stopped to chat and ask what was happening. Some people thanked them and then wandered away as directed (Canadians?). But there were a few people who really argued. They were really upset at having to go around to the other side of the block, which, I must say, I really didn't understand. I mean, I get lost easily, but even I can muster that one up. Curious.

To their credit, the security guys handled the grumpy pedestrians better than they did people taking pictures with their cell phones... they were actually threatening to confiscate the phones. The principle-guy in me was wishing I would have had my camera with me at that point... I'm pretty sure that they can't legally do that, and it would have been interesting to see what they said, but no one called them on it. Where's the ACLU when you really do need them?

One poor guy had his car parked there... in between the giant air mattress ("jump! jump! jump! it'll be fun!") and the fire truck. He wanted to go get it - which is not really a surprise - and the cop just said, "there's no way". So the guy just shrugged his shoulders, watched with me for a while, then wandered off. I was there for almost an hour and a half, and didn't see him come back.

So after a little longer, the fireman in the crane came down. The other firemen started to pack stuff up. I didn't see the swat guys come out, but things were definitely moving down from code red. Then a real cop came over to where I was and gave the famous line, which is even recognizable in French:

"Move along, there's nothing to see here."

Now, I can deal okay with the "move along" part. If they figure it's important, I'll move along. But nothing to see? Does he think I'm an idiot? Swat team? Battering rams? Bullet-proof vests? That sounds like the very opposite of "nothing to see" to me. But then, I wasn't the one carrying a gun.

So, no concert, and no pictures. I had a nice cigar while I watched, though, and hopefully no one got hurt in the end.

Happy weekend, everybody.

Come Here Often?

I was going through security at the airport this morning, and a woman in line in front of me got up to the checkpoint and seemed a little unsure about what she needed to do. She had her liquids in a plastic bag, but didn't take them out of her carry-on until the security guard asked her to. She kept her jacket on until the guard told her that she needed to take it off to send it through the scanner. She seemed a bit confused and, by the end, more than a little flustered.

Half-joking, and half-serious, I silently wondered, "is this the first time she's done this?". Her general appearance and the way she had packed indicated that she wouldn't be a stranger to the whole process, yet she was clearly having some trouble.

It did slow down the line a little, but I had time. It was busier than usual, but that meant that today there were 5 people in front of me at security when I got there, so it really wasn't a big deal.

It made me think again, though, about how air travel is such a normal part of my life. I usually take a couple of flights a week. I know the airport pretty well. I know the guy at the coffee place here, and the passport guys in Lugano know me by sight. I'm ready for passport control before I get in the line. I'm ready for the security check by the time I get to the conveyer. I have the things I'll have with me in my seat separated out before I get on the plane so I don't hold up the people behind me putting my luggage into the bin. This is just part of my life.

I guess I'm just used to it.

And it made me think about what else I've gotten used to, at one time or another.

I've gotten used to praying without really expecting an answer. I've gotten used to having a few sins that I indulge in, which have become rather constant companions. I've gotten used to feeling like there's not much point in challenging the people around me to live any differently than they're living. I've gotten used to hearing lies about myself and accepting them as truth.

Our bodies have a way of protecting themselves. If you walk into a room with a bad smell and stay, after a while your brain just stops acknowledging it. The thing that's causing the smell is still there - it's no better - and those little particles are still traveling into your nose and doing their thing, but your brain just won't continue to respond to that same stimulus. And spiritually, we seem to have a similar way of working... once we get used to things we shouldn't be comfortable with, we go numb, unable to recognize what may be a very real and present danger. We may even be suspicious of people who try to point it out.

"Of course the room doesn't stink," we say. "I can't smell anything."

And that, of course, is the problem: I really can't smell anything. If I don't find a reason to get myself out of the room to clear my senses or trust someone who can still smell, it will never get better, and what I'm immersed in but no longer able to recognize may hurt me or even kill me. And I guess that's why we need to live in community. I guess that's why I need people in my life who are willing to tell me that something stinks, whether I can smell it or not. And I guess that's part of why I want to be that kind of person: one who is not so immersed in the smell that it becomes a normal part of life, but one who is not afraid to head into the stink when I need to.

Alinghi, Part II

Well, we did it. We won the America's cup back to back, and I was almost there to see it... in fact, most of our Geneva office cleared out for a few minutes while we headed over to the Jardin Anglais across the street to catch the last bit of the race. It may be a bit much to say the tension was palpable, but there were quite a few people out to cheer on their crew despite the rain. I have the distinct feeling that this is a sport where are little more knowledge would go a long ways in my appreciation of it, but it is fun to watch, and it was cool to share the win with everyone gathered in the park.

It was a little bit odd that the high point (in terms of energy) was when then they started throwing Alinghi hats out into the crowd after the race was over. But that's nit-picking, I suppose. And, in true Swiss style, the place started to clear out very shortly after the win, with everyone back to work or to waxing their sidewalks or whatever it was they were doing before. I love this place.

Big Bird

I often find myself looking at swans and wondering if they are edible. I mean, that's a lot of meat. I guess the fact that there are a lot around here and they have yet to show up in the grocery stores should be an indication. On the other hand, it's quite possible the I've eaten swan several times and just not known the word for it in French. Or that it comes under the infamous "escalope" umbrella, which basically means "a piece of meat". And then the waiter looks at you funny when you ask what kind.

Anyways, I didn't eat this one. But I did take a bunch of pictures of him. As usual, you can find more here.

Some Pictures

It's raining now. These make it a little better.