The Peaceful Lake

As we sauntered through the streets of Montreux on a clear July evening, Lake Geneva glittered before our eyes, with the Alps around us cascading into the skies, seemingly never stopping as their peaks engulfed themselves in the cloud.

 

A small French paddleboat almost hovered past elegantly, it seemed to make no sound. This place was peaceful, tranquil. Yet it was also invigorating at the same time. The cool alpine air gushed down my throat into my lungs and I felt every bit of my body being reborn, this air was so fresh it was almost cleansing my body as we took a stroll in our flip flops along the shores of the lake.

The temperature was perfect, not to hot, not to cold. I stood there, shielding my eyes form the sun disappearing steadily behind the mountains on the Italian side of the lake. The snow visible on the Alps in the middle of summer sparked a huge contrast in my mind. Hot or cold? Which do I prefer? I decided neither, I just wanted to stay gazing at this natural beauty for years.

It was the first time I ever remembering gasping when I looked out of the car window as we trundled along windy roads from Geneva Airport to Montreux, and all the while we could see the lake. The magnificent backdrop of those endless mountains encapsulated the lake’s beauty. They mirrored and complimented each other magnificently. This was to be our base throughout our time in Switzerland, peace and quiet was the exact opposite of what we were soon to find at the second biggest football event in the world.

The tiny town of Montreux was home to Freddy Mercury and Queen for most of the year, they built recording studios and gained inspiration for most of their epic songs here. There was plenty of reasons to see how even a great showman like this could become transfixed and overawed by this wondrous town on the banks of Lake Geneva.

On game nights the promenade would be buzzing, bars and restraunts would house the many different nationalities of football fans and then come 11pm, there would either be roars of delight or groans of despair, depending on which bar you were in! Then on one particular night the Spanish and Italian teams both won, cue hours upon hours of frantic horn blasting, light flashing and hurried cheering as a car load of delighted spaniards whizzed passed down towards the edge of the lake.

This small town tucked away on the eastern side of Lake Geneva encapsulated what the european championships was all about, the joy and sadness of winning and losing but also the way everyone has come together to see this great spectacle.

 

Freddie Mercury’s statue will guard the entrance to Montreux from the lake, its beauty mirros his musical genius.

 

The stars shimmered in the dark alpine sky, the lake glistened under the moon light, and then a spaniard flew past on a moped insulting a group of russian fans who they had just beaten 2-1 in extra time. Priceless.