StarIQ.com's Cosmic Correspondent Kim Rogers-Gallagher has been invited to the planets' secret hangout. She's the first astrologer to enter this starry domain, and reports regularly on her findings there.

Cosmic Café 29:
Planes, Trains, Boats and Ski Lifts

Yes, there really was no doubt about it. Jupiter had changed from Taurus into Gemini. I wanted to ask him about it—but who could get a word in edgewise? He hadn't stopped talking since we left the boutique.

We drove through the center of Lucerne, Jupiter obviously enjoying his new role as tour guide. He pointed out the ancient bridge in the center of the lake, told me about the fire that had just about destroyed it back in 1993 and insisted we stop to feed the swans. Of course, that meant more conversations with complete strangers, which Jupiter was unbelievably skilled at. His ability to change languages in a split second was absolutely amazing.

He chatted with a young couple sitting on the steps of Lake Lucerne—who were obviously quite in love—in perfect French. When the young woman extended her hand to show off a brilliant diamond, he embraced them both at the same time. Then he stopped to ask an older man where the nearest flower shop might be—this time in perfect Swiss-German—and while I stood watching, dashed across the street. In just under two minutes, he was back—with a huge bouquet of flowers, which he presented to the young lady with a grand flourish. She was touched by his generosity, as was her fiancée, and they both hugged him before setting off happily down the street. I smiled to myself, proud and happy to be a Sag, and able to call this wonderful planet my uncle.

All this while I sat on the steps, feeding the swans. Where was he getting his energy?

Gemini. Had to be. No sign—except possibly Aries—moves faster. No sign loves variety more—hence his insistence that I buy everything I'd chosen at the boutique in several different colors. And there's definitely no sign more comfortable with words—words, in fact, are Gemini's playground.

Take the King of Long Distance Travel, put him in this fleet-footed sign, and suddenly I understood what he'd said about seeing Europe "in a day." Whether or not it was actually going to be one day, it was certainly going to feel like it.

As I finished up the bag of food Jupiter had bought for me from a sidewalk vendor, I saw him squat down next to an elegantly-dressed woman with an equally beautiful dog. He produced a biscuit from his pocket, stuck it between his lips, and let the dog take it gently from his mouth. The woman was delighted, and the dog—Sendi, a female with a wonderful, ornate collar—didn't want to leave. Bless his humongous heart—there really was no one who wasn't touched by his generosity and humor.

His next encounter was with an older man, who stopped to ask Jupiter for directions. As he waved his arms, pointed and finally offered the man a lift in our limo, I decided it was time for a cup of coffee—I had a feeling I might need it—and I walked over to an outdoor café to track one down.

I had no idea.

By the time the Sun had gone down, Jupiter and I had taken a boat ride around Lake Lucerne, and a ski lift up one of Switzerland's incredible mountainsides. I had no idea how gorgeous the mountains would be—and how much Jupiter in Gemini would know about the history of each of them. By the time we got back to the limo, I was exhausted, and quite ready for a break—and I told him so.

"Not to worry, babe," he said, as Claude opened the door for us. "We're gonna take a train to Amsterdam tonight. You can nap on the way. Kay?"

I nodded, tired but extremely happy, and snoozed against his shoulder as we once again hit the road. When I woke up, it was dark, and Jupiter was gone. Claude, however, was in the driver's seat, and as I sat up and stretched, he explained that "Monsieur Huge" had gone into the train station to buy our tickets. And did I need anything?

Before I could answer, Jupiter was back, leaning through the door and asking if I was "ready to rock." I had to laugh—because there was absolutely no way to refuse him. And why would a Ninth-House Sagittarian want to refuse anything that Jupiter offered? I climbed out my side, as Claude stood outside my door, smiling.

"Will there be anything else, Monsieur Huge?" he asked.

Jupiter shook his head, and pulled that never-ending roll of bills from his pocket. "No, sir, my man—you've outdone yourself once again. " He handed the driver at least six or seven bills, shook his hand—rapid-fire, of course—and took my arm. "I'll see you soon, Claude—now you take a week or so off and spend some time with the family."

"I will, Monsieur," Claude answered, and waved as he pulled away.

We headed off toward the train, which, of course, had just pulled up. There wasn't going to be any waiting on this trip—not for anything. Jupiter in Gemini wouldn't have it.

Next Week: Amsterdam, Jupiter and a Cameo Appearance by Neptune