Rousseau was born here but left. Voltaire lived here by choice. The first baptism under the seven golden domes of the Russian church was Dostoevsky’s daughter.
Caesar paused in his Gallic wars to stop by Geneva and burn down its only bridge-it got a whole paragraph when he wrote his memoirs. Napoleon dropped by to steal all the city’s cannons.
Geneva has it all, including one, count it one, Internet cafe. More of a video game cafe, or a smoking parlor cafe, or an echo chamber for loud rock music cafe, with 10 extremely slow Internet connections. One of them, at this moment, is me.
If the International Red Cross–headquartered in Geneva–knew how I suffer from Internet deprivation, they’d surely do something about this.