The mountains faded into the distance behind us as the persistent heat of the morning sun beat down on our backs. We detoured away from the main drag and emerged at the foot of a winding cobbled hill that would lead to the Old Town.
The path was steep, much steeper than we had expected, with tall, peeling buildings closing in around us, momentarily providing relief from the scorching sun. To our left and right, galleries and antique stores showcasing their finest pieces remained closed, despite the hub of noise echoing around us. The day had begun for some; vans veered around us unloading the smell of warm, fresh bread and buckets of freshly caught fish. Stopping briefly to bask in the vibrancy of the mornings activities, we went unnoticed, listening intently to a language we could make no sense of.
Onwards and upwards we went, passing yet more artisan shops with their lights dim; no one at home, the sun occasionally breaking through the gaps in the buildings to dry the beads of sweat forming from the hike.
With the peak in view, we rested, panting slightly from the exertion, whilst absorbing the vivacity of morning life around us; businessmen and women, dressed smartly in linen suits sipped coffee outside charming bistros whilst tourists audibly marvelled at the charming architecture. Rickety houses seemed to lean against each other, searching for support as their exteriors flaked away from them leaving the most remarkable textures. A Cathedral spire pointed high above the buildings, as if piercing the sky with its sharpness. The modern exteriors of the shops and cafes delivered a stark contrast to the ancient brickwork that rose above our heads and the cobbled floor which wobbled uneven below us, not suitable for the less agile.
Upon jovially emerging at the top, we ambled down a narrow path to our left, inquisitively questioning its destination. Walking through a crumbling magenta archway, we were greeted with the most fabulous view. Spread out ahead of us was Geneva at its finest. The Alps, obscured slightly by the hazy sun provided a picturesque backdrop to the hustle and bustle of city life. Tall buildings stood proud against the horizon, with Lake Geneva cutting a silky pathway through the middle. Five lane roads heaved with the mid-morning traffic, the sound of car horns calling out a fanfare.
The quiet hubbub of the Old Town was a whole other world compared to the havoc that greeted us below. Standing high above the city, it was clear that Geneva was nestled between the magical, winding alleyways of the Old Town and the strong, comforting arms of the Alps. We stood for a while, captivated by our discovery, watching the day unfold.
