Lausanne, Geneva, Biel, Bern

Lausanne is a nice town-and-a-half on a few steep hills. The old town is up top, and seaside Ouchy is below, the gap filled with largely nondescript but pleasant buildings and parks. A metro rail, which just opened, joins the two. It's a lovely place; I'm sure I'll go back to explore some more.

Likewise, Biel seemed pretty nice, all things considered. Judging by the map, the city is fairly small, and green hills rise rapidly at the borders. Looking down the streets, you see a nice juxtaposition of styles, majestic old buildings sidling up to glass and steel. But they are tasteful, and complemented by the canals and green space, the downtown feels balanced ... small but lively.

After arriving in Geneva I took a few minutes to turn on the GPS, wait for it to find itself, throw on some sunscreen, and take a photo of a city map. Having oriented myself, I headed down the hill towards the water.

A few blocks later, I noticed someone sitting on the sidewalk near a bed sheet with random household goods piled upon it. At first, I thought that the side street, which was blocked off, was being used by some local peddler taking advantage of a festival to offload some crap. There wasn't much interest -- only a few dozen people were in the street -- but I wanted to see why the road was closed, so I turned.

Next to the first sheet there was another, again filled with thrift store goodies, and another, and another, all the way down. Maybe everyone got the memo that festival side streets are good for vending?

Oh no. The entire "festival" is actually a yard sale. It's probably 12 square blocks, covering both sides of the streets, spilling into the parks, and even filling the spaces under playground slides with old clothes, as Timmy and Sarah (er ... Pierre and Marie) frolic above. Only food booths and the occasional performers could hold back the tide. It's something else.

Ah, and I left the best for last. God save you if you ever get stuck in downtown Bern.

Downtown Bern is a dreary, depressing, soulless city. By mandate all buildings are the same gray, blocky institution. Those familiar with California drainage channels would find similarity here, the tall rectangular faces broken up only by columns encroaching on the cobblestone roadway and the characteristic long eves, built to protect the very sandstone that likens the city to a storm drain. The town is in serious need of a designer. Instead, they have fountains.

Bern's quaint fountains, like little bows, gave the artists something to do after the reformation put them out of work. There's a bagpiper, lady justice, some bears dressed as knights, and even some more colorful ones, including a statue of an ogre, eating children.

My favorite fountain is a recent, modern addition, a piece of particular controversy amongst the Bernese. It's essentially a steel pipe a few feet across with a plate at the top. Water descends through channels attached like a screw to the outside of the pipe, spiraling down. These same channels also harbor dirt and moss, so now the top of the fountain has patches of grass and moss growing on it. It's awesome. I'm closer to posting pictures, but still not there yet.

Also, for those following along at home, it seems other people decided to go traveling this weekend, too. So Paris is the new Florence.