I just returned from a weekend away in Geneva (Genève), where I experienced my first official voyage tout seul! While I have travelled solo by plane, train and automobile many times in the past; there was always someone familiar waiting with open arms on the other side. But this time, I did it all alone… I’m a big girl now!!! I should mention a huge thank-you however, to my cousin Cédric, for allowing me to stay chez-lui while he was also away on vacation.
I was initially hesitant and nervous to commit to this trip as I did not know how motivated I would be to venture out and explore the city on my own, and also because I am hopelessly and tragically directionally challenged. But hey, who would have known that my incoherent navigation skills are slowly evolving and forming automatic associations dans ma tête. Geneva is a very small city in size, so I am sure that it helped in orienting myself, but I have to say that I am not only proud, but also amazed at how well I could get around after only having examined the city map for a short time!!
I should also interject though, because there were a couple of gaffes as well, which I really should not admit to, but hey, I am always up for a good self laugh!
Gaffe numéro un: In perfect SNCF fashion (French rail system), the train was a half hour late to leave, and upon boarding the sign listed several cities including, Genève, with the caption a tête; and a list of other cities with the caption l’arrière. Looking at the sign, I knew that the entire train was travelling to Geneva and that there were no assigned seats, so I thought by the words that I should pick one of the cars near the front of the train?, but based on the mass confusion of other travellers around me, including many native French speakers about the meaning of the sign, I picked a car near the middle. It seems silly as all of the train doors open with the push of a sensor button and in actuality it really does not matter what car or seat you are in, but alas the SNCF is a source of irritation to many a French national, or so I have been told, and as such it is not surprising that it would also serve as a confusing system as well. After not so comfortably settling into a stewardess style flip down seat, as most of the regular seats were occupied (VIA rivals in comparison to comfort), an English gentleman asked me in English if the train was going to Geneva, which I replied, ”I think so, and if not we are both in the same boat”. One thing is for sure, if I have learned anything from France it is that you will never get a consistent answer to any question (or give one), and most things really are not worth worrying about. So what if I don’t actually make it to Geneva, I can just board another train, and in the off chance they ask to see my ticket, act really confused and pretend I don’t know any French. But alas I did make it to Geneva without any hitches, and surprisingly on the original arrival time despite the 30 min delay.
Gaffe numéro deux: Since my cousin’s apartment was only a short walk from the train station I opted to walk instead of taking the tram. As I was heading away from the station, I decided to ask for directions to make sure I was in fact heading in the right direction, which startlingly I was! Once there, I entered the building using the correct door code, and proceeded to try to open the apartment door, with considerable difficulty, because you know it is not a simple as inserting a key and turning… or is it? After using up all of my phone credit talking to my cousin on the phone (while he was at work) and still unsuccessfully unlocking the door, through the help of his nice and accommodating neighbour I was given a crash course in using a key, which was as simple as turning it. And you would never guess that I once owned my own home!
Before I continue, I feel I should explain the title of this post, as it serves as the perfect reminder of my solo voyage to Geneva, as well as a motto in this journey called life. One of my final experiences in Geneva was watching the King’s Choir of Cambridge perform at Cathédrale St. Pierre. During the ‘Hymn to St. Cecilia’, was the lyric, “weep for the lives your wishes never led”. How profound…. I have always attempted to live without regret, but oftentimes this also meant inaction caused by fear. Well this trip, although small, is a step toward living out wishes, and serves as a springboard for other developing dreams and unrealized ambitions!
Alors,
...weep for the lives your wishes never led...
(Wystan Hugh Auden)
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