Anna S. E. Lundberg

Coach, Speaker, Writer

Machu Picchu: booked!

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I don’t remember when it started or why, but for years now I’ve been obsessed with Peru and Machu Picchu. It’s probably a combination of things – a general interest in history, a fascination with ancient civilizations whether it’s the Greeks or the Mayans or the Incas, and, according to one friend, an attraction to a place of strong energy fields and connections. Whatever the reasons, I’m thrilled to be finally turning this dream into a real-life experience.

With Machu Picchu booked, that concludes the planning element of my trip. In theory. It’s so hard not to get caught up in the excitement of it all and plan every part of the journey. I read a blog post by Amanda Slavinsky where she talks about FOMO – the Fear of Missing Out – and that’s definitely part of it. The last thing you want is to come home from a trip only to hear about some once-in-a-lifetime experience that you’ve just missed and will probably never get to enjoy, as who knows when, if ever, you’ll go back to that same place.

When I went to Central America last February, my friend and I had just two weeks to zoom across four countries, from our arrival in Guatemala City through to our return from San José in Costa Rica. I had been relaxed about the whole trip until the departure date grew closer and I suddenly realised that it might be helpful to map out the long distances we’d have to cover. The result was a table that spanned two pages full of different options of buses and stopovers and deadlines in order to see as much as possible and still make our return flight. My friend was grateful but understandably also frustrated after the first week of hostel hopping, 4am starts and 10-hour buses. The second week was a bit more relaxed – sometimes we had two whole nights in the same place. In any case, after two weeks we had gone from Lake Atitlán up to the Mayan ruins in the rainforests of Guatemala; travelled by lancha down the river from Río Dulce to the Garífuna port of Livingston; visited colonial Granada and cycled across Isla Ometepe in Nicaragua; gone horse-riding and lava hunting in La Fortuna; and seen quite a few other things besides. And I (barely) remember how tiring it all was.

This time round, I have three months and I’m determined to be more spontaneous. So I’ve booked my arrival in Quito, Ecuador, and my departure from Buenos Aires, Argentina; a week’s sailing in the Galápagos; and, now, Machu Picchu. And that’s it. I’m putting away my Lonely Planet, closing Word and Excel, and focusing my attention on other things. Like… planning all the gear I need to buy for my backpack! Ahem.

Dinner in Geneva (in 500 words)

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So I finally got round to submitting the first assignment for my travel writing course. The brief was to write a guide on some aspect of my hometown in 500 words. Photo courtesy of fondue fiend Louise Imbsen.

Dinner in Geneva: fitting in with the locals

Well, when I say “the locals”, I’ve only on rare occasions met a true Genevois. Of Geneva’s 200,000 or so inhabitants, almost half are expats, and many of the others are Italian, Portuguese or Spanish immigrants from the 1960s and 1980s. This makes things a little complicated when it comes to social etiquette.

First things first: saying hello. In Geneva, we kiss three times, starting with the right cheek. This already becomes problematic as the French and the Italians tend to start with the left cheek, and kiss just twice, with potential for a more intimate greeting than you had intended as you bump lips. Depending on how attractive the other person is, this may or may not be a bad thing. Then there are the Swedes, The Huggers; the Brits, who prefer the formal handshake; and yet others who stick to the cool nod, avoiding physical contact altogether.

To sample a classic Swiss dish, you can’t go wrong with a fondue. The pot of melted cheese mixed with white wine and Kirsch is a social meal and perfect for those wintry nights. Order a platter of viande séchée with pickles to start. Correct fondue protocol is as follows: after the obligatory “Bon appétit!”, break a piece of bread into small chunks, then stick them one by one onto your fork and dip into the cheese. If you drop your bread in the pot, you must down your wine. (My dad claims this is just a ruse by men to get me drunk.) Do stick to wine, as water will make the cheese coagulate in your stomach. (Bleurgh.) Make sure you look the other person in the eye as you clink your glasses, or you’ll have bad sex for seven years. (This tends to lead to some exaggerated glaring to avoid this terrible fate.) “Santé!”

If the temperature of the fondue has been kept just right – adjusting the flame of the burner throughout the evening can be the source of some contention – you will eventually arrive at la religieuse, a layer of crusty cheese at the bottom of the pot to be savoured at the end of the meal. Then it’s time to order a moitié-moitié, a digestif of one half Williamine liqueur and one half Williamine eau-de-vie, to help break down all that cheese. After that, coffee. Okay, this is the Italian influence, but it is unacceptable to drink cappuccino or latte in the evening. Milky coffee is for breakfast; after dinner, you may have an espresso or, even better, a ristretto.

Finally, we arrive at the controversial topic of tipping. Tip is included in Switzerland so in theory you “shouldn’t” leave anything but some still think that’s rude. A compromise is to at least round up the total. As you leave the restaurant, you smile to the waiters, “Merci, au revoir, bonne soirée!”. The kissing ritual is repeated with your friends. Et voilà! You’ve survived your first dinner, Geneva style.