Swiss Cheesiness

Well, hello there.  Sorry to be away so long, but lots has been going on behind the scenes — including some exciting news regarding Project Blue Harvest, which I promise — promise! — to reveal shortly.  Hang in there.

In the meantime, I’m coming to you from the Hotel Royal in Geneva, Switzerland, where the clocks all say 8 in the morning, but my body, despite my best efforts, is still trying to say it’s 2 am.  Barb is here for meetings at the World Health Organization (an intimidating marble structure that somehow mysteriously repels non-science types from its stern facade like Damian from the church door) before we leave this evening for London, where she has even more meetings over the next several days.  Once in London, however, I have some work to do, visiting two key sites related to Project Blue Harvest, and conducting an interview with An Amazing Person. Looking forward to it? You bet.

We spent yesterday driving from Geneva to Lucerne — about three hours by car — to have lunch with friends and stroll the streets of the old city. It made for a long day — by the time we returned to Geneva, we calculated we’d been up for 31 hours — but we love driving in foreign countries and meandering down back roads to see those places a bit off the beaten path.  Plus, when GPS technology makes it so easy to find your way back again, there’s really no good reason NOT to try to get lost for a while.  And believe me, I’m good at getting lost.

This morning, while Barb attends her meetings (she stressed to me that she is attending meetings, not a conference, as I kept exhausting her with a lame Geneva Convention joke), I’m catching up on e-mails, trying to keep up with the newspapers (apparently, there was some sort of soccer-related thing that all of Europe was interested in yesterday), and generally soaking up All Things Geneva, which includes enjoying a cup of Nespresso. Because George Clooney says I should.

Oh, and apparently in Switzerland, the “C” on the faucets means “hot” while the British pound sign thingy means “cold.”  Gotcha.  Lesson learned.  In the shower.

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