A couple weekends ago, we went to Desalpes, otherwise known as "The time farmers put bells and flowers on their cows and bring them down from the mountains for the winter, leaving as much poop as possible in the middle of the road." Fun times, fun times.
The festival feels very Swiss. Lots of cows. Beautiful mountains. Lots of sausage and chocolates for sale. But for the second year in a row, I heard more American accents at this festival than any other time or place during the year.
Geneva's a very international city. But when I hear English spoken, it's usually Queen's English. East Indian may be a close second. Rarely do I hear American accents on the street. But Desalpes, as Swiss as it is, seems to be a 24-hour Little America.