We boarded Flight 23 through gate SB30, the one you get to by riding down the luggage conveyors.
Not many people know about the subterranean hangars. The steam dirigible took us into the clouds. It was a strange crowd on board—many unintelligible languages.
The coffee on board was dark and chocolaty, with a wood-fire taste, served by flight attendants who were mountain trolls, a bit grumpy.
In Geneva our dwarf guide took us down the back alleys, where you can still see the occasional “granchat.” They block traffic until they wake up.
A goat man brought us firewood on this brouette, which was parked at the base of the stairs of our stone house.