"courage, dear heart": Switzerland: Prom King

Do you remember that popular kid from high school? The one with Abercrombie clothes, who doubled as their model and casually sported a Letterman jacket to attend their Honor Society induction. That kid.

Well, friends, Russian readers, Mom, that is Switzerland.

From celebrity Protestant Reformers to thigh-damning chocolates to a dazzling Alpine- accented lake, they have it all. Really, they have everything. Effortlessly.

And I hate them and love them a little bit for it.

It's just not fair. And worst yet, they don't even have to fight for it. Because, well, their neutral. Trump. Card.

Easter seemed like the best time to retreat to the Reformer's asylum of choice: Geneva.

What better destination to flee Mary Tudor's flaming stake than the pristine shores of Switzerland's famous lake. At least John Knox thought so.

And he was rarely wrong about anything. *wink*

Switzerland is like the German-French love child. Staidly rustic efficiency tempered with charming stylistic elegance. Oh and amazing cheese. So, basically perfect.

First, let's begin with Geneva, the lake's namesake. I could wax on about their spotless sterility- sidewalks so wide and trash-less they made this OCD girl swoon.

But, they had me at one church.

Situated in the austere Place de la Taconnerie, adjacent to the towering, historic St. Pierre Cathedral, stands a bulwark of the Geneva Reformation: The Auditoire de Calvin.

Better known by its street name, the "John Knox Chapel," was the humble refuge for reformed theologians, being hunted by haters.

To say I am a fan of the Johns (Calvin and Knox) is like saying Michael Jackson had a little work done on his face. Yeah- it's like that.

So, attending services in the very sanctuary that provided just that to Luther's 16th century groupies was -simply put- transcendent. I was nearly levitating with historical nerdiness.

Of course, there is the Jet D'Eau and Reformation Wall and Geneva University. All interesting but can't hold a candle to Calvin's pulpit.

And yes, the United Nations owns some property in town. So, I am told. But, I have no love for the United Nations. None. Fortunately neither does my travel companion, Jamie. Which is why we are friends. (Oh and she's loves Kate Spade too. The perfect friendship.)

Then, there was the fairy tale-fabled Chateau de Chillon of Montreaux.

Enthroned by the gently lapping lake, the ancient castle sits modestly under a vigilant Alpine guard. Glittering snow-crusted peaks. Dappled rays of sun. Sparkling, gossamer waters.

And It. Is. Breathtaking.

So stunning- it makes that "Big Bang Theory" nonsense seem like an embarrassing joke.

Montreaux- itself is lovely. Postcard worthy even. The quiet serenity and understated charm merits distinction.

But, to get the full Swiss-Heidi experience, you must continue onto Gruyere. Not only does their world renowned cheese delight the palate, but the medieval town, is well, the cutest ever.

So adorably charming it almost makes you want to throw on a pair of lederhosen and herd sheep to the town well. Almost. Except lederhosen chafe.

But you get the idea.

La Maison du Gruyere is a cow-to-consumer dairy with celebrity cheese that does not disappoint. And Medieval Gruyere's Chocolatier boasts a dessert waffle with melted chocolate that is the food of the gods.

You could literally be hit by a bus after your visit to Gruyere and die sated and happy.

So now I understand the Swiss appeal to reformers on the run. Asylum in Switzerland is like a date with the prom king complete with a chocolate and cheese fondue.

And that's a reformation romance I can get behind.