Even in the cold grey of midwinter, Geneva hits you in waves. At first, all eyes are on the scale and grandeur of the lake, its party-piece swoosh of water, the Jet d’Eau, and its boulevard of belle époque-era hotels and watch salons. Those who live here, so used to this, set their peepers instead on the old town’s labyrinth of stairways and squares, with cobblestones underfoot and John Calvin’s Cathédrale St Pierre lancing the sky overhead. Behind that, the rugged shoulders of Mont Blanc almost block out the sun.
Yet away from this there is much of Geneva that is unfamiliar. For most Brits at this time of year it is merely a trapdoor to the mountains, not a must-do, despite oodles of direct flights, terrific restaurants, better hotels and, resoundingly, attractions unlike anywhere else. And as a regular visitor I’m here to set the record straight.
The reason I’ve come back this time is to stay at the Auberge Port-Gitana, a new boutique hotel opened in the lakefront suburb of Bellevue. It was here in 1875 that Baroness Julie de Rothschild, once dubbed the “fastest yachting lady in the world”, had a glammed-up pavilion built to house her torpedo-shaped steamboat. The boathouse morphed into a celebrity haunt in the 1930s and it was here too that French film royalty partied, including later the original femme fatale, Jeanne Moreau. Now, the beautifully renovated time capsule is hoping to become prime city-break territory, just metres from the lakeshore and with 18 no-fuss, no-bling rooms and with bay windows from where you can snoop on the lake scene.
What you need to know
- Where is it? Mountain-surrounded, lakeside Geneva
- Insider tip Go to Cern — it’s free and mind-blowing
- Who will love it? Wine-lovers, Professor Brian Cox fans
From my balcony I can see a landscaped beach (not ideal for winter), a pier to plunge from (still no, thanks), a wooden sauna for hire (now we’re talking) and one brave if Baltic swimmer ghosting in from the glistening fog. It feels very Mary Shelley, deeply gothic, standing looking down onto the operatic lake in front of an ill-defined Mont Blanc, vague mountains cascading to the city’s edge. Small wonder this setting was the inspiration for Frankenstein.
In the ground-floor brasserie, past the artworks, Riviera-chic knick-knacks and modernist furnishings, you can imagine being here in summer, when boats come gliding in (you can arrive by yacht, if that’s your bag) and drinking wine before midday isn’t frowned upon. That first evening, after a couple of chilled glasses of chasselas, my table groans with oysters, perch fillets, wild mushrooms, charcuterie and Valais cheese (three courses, £65). There’s no shame in skipping dessert here.
What to do in Geneva
The next day, I suggest you start at Cern in the quiet suburb of Meyrin, even if it is a 20-minute tram ride west of the city centre (free; visit.cern). Here there is always something new with which to dumbfound your brain. The world’s most extreme experiments take place daily at the nuclear research institute, and the expansive visitor centre — designed as a succession of Large Hadron Collider cylinders (enormous toilet roll tubes, basically) — is a memorable walk through the conditions that created the Big Bang. It’s for nerds and nerds-in-training and, if you love Professor Brian Cox like I do, you’ll feel right at home.
On my visit, I see the computer on which the world wide web was invented by Tim Berners-Lee and a replica of the earliest photo taken of the universe, showing light recorded 380,000 years after the Big Bang. Beyond this point, you enter the realm of particles and there are no stars or galaxies. Clapping is the most appropriate response.
You may well know all things about particle physics, but I bet you don’t know much about Swiss wine, another of Geneva’s ingenious wonders. There are nearly 1,400 hectares of vineyards in the city, as well as 80 grape varieties.
I know all this because I’ve joined an afternoon walking tour with the wine historian Emmanuelle Visinand of Visites Guidées Citadines, and she tells stories of John Calvin and Jean-Jacques Rousseau, the Protestant Reformation and the Red Cross, watchmaking and, naturally, wine, all while carrying a rucksack filled with clinking bottles (£200 per group, visitesguideesef.ch). She free-pours as we mooch through the old town, occasionally spilling it on the cobbles. The strangest moment of all is when we realise our small group has emptied all four bottles — whoops!
By this time, it’s all getting a little woozy. What doesn’t help is one last drink before dinner — a Calvinus beer, microbrewed at one of the city’s oldest pubs, La Clémence, and named after Calvin (who else?). Inside, on a veneered table in buttery light, the bottle is slowly poured to a foam, and it’s like someone is gradually winding the clocks back a few centuries.
The next day is one of uniquely Genevan thrills. In the morning, it’s a behind-the-scenes tour of the United Nations’ enormous Palais des Nations, a neoclassical Versailles where you can smell the negotiations — keep an eye out for a new immersive visitor centre debuting this spring (£25; ungeneva.org). At lunch at Kiosque des Bastions, an art deco gazebo in the tree-lined Parc des Bastions, waiters whirl out plates of garlicky snails and delicate beef tartare (mains from £20; bastions.ch). In the afternoon, a watchmaking masterclass at Initium horology workshop takes me from Wallace and Gromit gaffes to Doctor Who levels of screwdriver wizardry (£305; initium.swiss).
Only later, with the waft of cocoa drifting through the air, do I encounter other like-minded tourists milling about the old town’s artisan chocolate shops. Everyone else is in the mountains somewhere, the fools. They’ll be having fun, of course. Maybe just not as much as me.
Mike MacEacheran was a guest of Auberge Port-Gitana, which has B&B doubles from £165 (portgitana.ch). Fly to Geneva
