People on the move

rte de Meyrin at Blandonnet

It's seven degrees today, with the snow line down to 900m, and a strong gusting wind when I took the hire car back to the airport. Driving a brand new Polo with 8000km on the clock took some getting used to. It wasn't easy to figure out everything I felt I needed to know, as the handbook was only in German. I only needed to add petrol on my way to the airport, but had a panic as finding out how to access the tank was a matter of trial and error. Over the week I drove 318 km, using just 15 litres of petrol, an average 59mpg. Impressive, this car of the year 2010.

I returned via the town centre using the 5 bus to Cornavin, then a train home, less hassle than finding the stop for the 57 round the houses bus to Meyrin. After coffee and a change from sandals to warmer shoes, I took the train one stop back to Cointrin. There's a new big blue IKEA by the station and the Blandonnet hypermarket a three minute walk away. The pedestrian entrance to the complex is on the far side, and not well marked. Most people arrive here to shop by car. It's so big it's rarely full. I bought things for supper tonight, and then battled the gusts and swirls of winds around the tall building adjacent back to the station. 

The airport runway is just 500m north of here, and huge planes pass 50 metres over the road and rail tracks. While I waited for the train, I got my camera out, and succeeded in snapping an Air France 747 passing over the line. That way I didn't notice the cold.

On the lunchtime train, not at all crowded, there was a man standing with his mountain bike, another was  using a netbook, another was eating a salad lunch from plastic tub while reading a newspaper perched on his knee. Several more were reading papers, a few read books, or were scanning file documents. Fewer still were talking, or looking out of the window, or people watching like me. However more convenient a comfy car may be on times, I've come to prefer public transport, because of the sense it gives of being part of a very varied population. This attachment started when we lived here, and continues in Cardiff, with equal interest to be derived from every daily journey.

An hour later, I was back behind the wheel, driving Keith Dale to the airport in their Fiat Seicento. It's a lot more familiar to drive, as it's an older car - more what I'm used to. Keith is off to Yorkshire for his 98 year old granny's funeral. Claudine will follow tomorrow morning, departing just before my flight home.