Planes, Trains, and Automobiles (Literally)

It’s a funny thing:  studying in France requires actually getting to France.  Although I’m not quite there yet (I’m sitting in the Genève train station waiting for my train.  It leaves at 17:28, 2 hours and 13 minutes from now), I figured I would get a jump-start on the post about this crazy travel day.

I sure picked a doozy of a way to travel alone for the first time.  My trip included a plane, a bus, another plane, 3 trains, and a little walk (at least I hope that’s everything).  That’s one bus and one train more than I expected when we were driving to Minneapolis.  The unexpected things have gone well so far, and the trip itself has been pretty smooth.  Now, let’s hope it ends as smoothly as it has been going thus far.

The only thing that really went “wrong” with the plane portion of the trip was me forgetting to empty my water bottle before customs.  It was a quick fix, though – the really nice young customs officer gave me my things (still in the gray bin) and walked me to the door so I could dump it out; then she let me back to the front of the line as soon as I got back to the customs check.  No disaster there.

The extra bus came between planes…I’m not really sure why.  I guess in Amsterdam they like to park the small planes in a line at the back of the parking lot, and take passengers out there from the gate.  The bus did fulfill one of my little life goals, though – I’ve always wanted to walk up a staircase straight into a plane like you see in old movies.  The bus dropped us off right at the bottom of the stairs.  J

The extra train got me to where I am now – Genève’s main train station.   The train situations were/are the most confusing thing to me all day.  The Geneva airport is connected to “the train station,” which I found.  It had a full-fledged train station right in the basement.  I was pretty excited, because I thought I was where I needed to be, though I couldn’t make sense of any of the map signs (this is my first time on a train alone, too).  Just to make sure, and to warm up my French, I decided to ask one of the ticket clerks if I was in the right place to use my ticket.  So…. “Bonjour, Madame!  J’ai ce billet…est-ce que ça c’est la gare correcte?”  She was pretty gracious toward my clearly non-native French, but told me that I was not, in fact, in the right place.  I had to take a train from “the train station” to the real train station.  So she gave me the ticket that I needed and some Swiss Francs that I didn’t need.  Sweet.  I sat down to look at my ticket, since it looked very non-specific, and discovered that I had no idea what the ticket was really for.  Which train?  Where to?  It didn’t even have a specific time; it just said that it was good until 14:15.  So, after wandering around for a while, undoubtedly looking like a foreign fool, I still had no idea, and trains were leaving all over the place.  I finally decided that I needed help…I was going to miss my train if I didn’t ask someone what to do.  I didn’t know who else to ask, so I went back to the ticket counter and asked a different clerk…this time in English.  I at least said, “Bonjour!  J’ai une question en anglais” before I just jumped in to the English.  She was fluent, though, and told me straight-up what to do.  I was so glad I asked.

I got here, the station where I can really use my ticket to get to Culoz to get to Chambéry and go to sleep (I am so tired.)  When I got here, though, I had a similar problem with my ticket.  Where on earth do I go?  Is this even the right station?  To be safe, I decided to ask again; so I found the ticket counter.  At this station, though, there was a huge line.  I started waiting, but then noticed a man in a really bright yellow vest with an “I” on it.  I figured he was just dying to answer my question.  So…I tried to ask him in French, and we got through the “am I in the right place, is this the right ticket” stuff; but as soon as we got to “where is my train,” he mercifully switched to English (with a smile that just said, “thanks for trying”).  I must’ve given him a blank stare when he sped through the maze I had to go through to get to the right platform.  Even with the English instructions, it took me a while to find it, but now I’m here, and I don’t intend on leaving until I hop on the train.

It isn’t even 4:00.  I mean “It isn’t even 16:00” and I am finished rambling about this part of my day.  At least it occupied 40 minutes…maybe I actually will take a nap here.  I am afraid of missing my train, but I bet I’ll be fine.

I’ll finish off the adventure tonight.  Take care, folks!

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I know this is a really long post, but I'll finish up the story real quick.  This should be the longest post of the entire blog, so if you can survive this, you can survive anything!

I didn't take a nap in the train station.  I was sooooooo sleepy, but I fought through the fatigue for fear of missing my train.  The train station was a mad house!  I can't imagine Grand Central Station at a busy peak.  When my train arrived and opened the doors, everybody literally ran into the train, taking any seat they could find.  They were smarter than me, because I was left with my huge bag, looking for one loner seat.  Luckily, I found one that folds out of the wall, and I sat with a group of 6 other people in the tiny space by the doors.  That sure was interesting.

Things went well on the trains, I suppose.  Everything was in French at that point (no more double-language announcements), so I had a little bit of a hard time when the conductors would announce over the loud speakers in the train.  Luckily, there are signs for every train station so you know where you're stopping.

By the time I got here to Chambery, I was just ready to be done.  I found my hotel, locked the door, and took a bubble bath.  It was a great adventure, but I am so glad today is over.  Now the real fun begins.

Until next time,

Erin