Reformation Town

This morning I completed the on-line application form to obtain a copy of my police record from the Swiss authorities, paid for it on-line, printed it off and signed it ready for posting to Berne, although printing had to wait until I'd fetched Claudine from the airport, and I'd had sufficient time to coax the printer into doing its proper job on demand. It's so frustrating when simple things don't happen automatically.

Then Clare and I took the tram to Balexert shopping centre, where I was able to post it, and buy a card to send to the St John's tea room crew. It'll be another fortnight or so before I see them all again. After a fruitless hour looking for a birthday present to take home, Clare returned and I went on into the city for a late afternoon photo expedition to the vieille ville.

Compared to many similar mainly 17th -18th century urban environments, Geneva's old buildings are quite restrained, with very little baroque embellishment. In the winter they can look sombre and dark, but in good summer sunlight, their built-to-last quality stands out well, and there's no shortage of trees and greenery to add bright relief to the substantial grey of the stonework.

I went and sat at the back of the twelfth century former cathedral of St Pierre, and remnisced about times I'd spent there, leading Holy Trinity Church's annual Nine Lessons and Carols service for a congregation of over a thousand. It's a majestic building, stripped of its papistical liturgical décor, bare as a cistercian monastery, except for the great pulpit from which Calvin, Farel, Knox and other reforming luminaries preached, with pews for the hearers. There's a long narrow communion table on the top chancel step, from which the Eucharist is distributed to queues of the faithful by several ministers standing side by side. In this it resembles a shop counter more than something domestic sanctified, but at least it makes you think differently for once about what you're doing.

I thoroughly enjoyed rediscovering streets once familiar to me, with their classy art galleries, antique shops, fashion boutiques, restaurants and exclusive old style apartments tucked away behind courtyards with high wooden gates. With Swiss Confederation festival day occuring this Sunday, all of the many flagpoles of the old town were bearing the city's huge standard, adding an extra layer of colour to the usual grey and green. All very tasteful and dignified, just the way I like it.

I journeyed back to Meyrin using the tram as far as Cornavin station, and then the commuter shuttle train from there to home. This journey is fifteen minutes by tram plus a ten minute walk, whereas the train takes five minutes and stops just two minutes walk from the door. With a little planning one can travel right across the Canton far quicker by public transport than is ever possible by car. I look forward to the day when one can say the same about Cardiff.