After my less than leisurely sprint from our apartment in Marseilles to the train station, I was sweating slightly more than an appropriate amount and still worried that I would not get to this train in time. I had to wait in line to make a reservation then figure out exactly how I was going to get myself to the hostel in Chamonix once I had finally arrived at St. Gervais, the last stop on the rail line.
But, after an amazing conversation with a ticket agent (those people really do have a way of answering questions you didn’t even know you had), I was all set. I was only 2 trains and a bus away from my final destination.
So with tickets and food in hand, I walked to the train with confidence that the day would not have warranted all of the worry I had expended over the last few hours. I relaxed in my train car, wrote blog posts, napped, and even took a couple pretty pictures despite the terrible weather outside.
The ride was incredibly peaceful until I realized that 10 minutes before we were supposed to arrive in Lyon… we weren’t approaching anything that even remotely resembled a train station nor were we slowing down.
Not ideal.
Long story short, what had been a fairly simple and straight-forward day of travel became much less… well… ideal. I now had to find a train to a third station, make a 5 minute transfer, and then arrive in St. Gervais an hour and a half before the last bus to Chamonix. If that bus never showed up, or I missed it for some reason, I was pretty much SOL. And not just a regular SOL. SOL in a random French town, unable to speak the language, alone, at midnight.
Again, not ideal.
So I hoped out of the station to take a quick photo in case, for some reason, people would need a picture of my last known whereabouts. Then I continued on my way.
Dramatic, I know.
But thankfully, something amazing happened.
In the Lyon train station, I found random free wifi (no, that’s not the amazing thing) so I could shoot out a heads up to my friends in Chamonix. I hoped on Facebook for a quick second, and the first thing that popped up on my newsfeed was this:
I haven’t talked to Jantzen in ages, but this quote… “Every time you can find the humor in a difficult situation- you win”… Could not have been more perfect!
I decided that God was trying to tell me to chill out, so I kept that quote in the back of my mind the rest of the day.
From Gare de Lyon, I rode a train to Bellegarde, France.
Once again, as our arrival time neared, the train station was nowhere in sight. No matter, I gathered up all of my things and waited anxiously at the doorway of the train so I could be the first off and better able to find my next train. I was flirting with missing yet another train (damn 5 minute layovers), so I breathed an obviously agitated sigh…
And so did the man behind me.
In an instance, we became best friends.
Turns out, he had experienced a very similar travel day, and was about to miss the same train I was gunning for. So, once our train finally stopped, we ran together to find the next one. Luckily, it was only one track away, but there was yet another wrench in our way.
Apparently, the trains in Europe very easily attach and detach from each other. So, sometimes, the front of a train will be separated from the back and go in a completely different direction. An unsuspecting traveler could potentially be sitting in the wrong half of the train and end up in the opposite direction of their desired destination.
This was one such train.
Without my friend David, I very well could have ended up Switzerland.
So for the next hour, we debriefed our days and talked about our travels. He was on his way to a work convention and told me all about his family (wife and 2 children), his job (mattress salesman), his home (in Avignon), his pets (cutest dog and stupidest cat of all time), the great loves of his life (cooking, the sun, his daughter, love itself), among other things. It was one of the first times in a while that I had a personal interaction and wholesome connection with a total stranger in a foreign country.
It was awesome.
Before I knew it, David was gone, and I was in St. Gervais, alone once again.
Other than myself and one other guy who spoke a negative amount of English, this is what the town looked like…
EMPTINESS!
I had well over an hour before the bus was supposed to arrive, so I spent that time in a bar down the street, stealing wifi, and praying that this bus would actually show up. After plenty of worrying and some much needed pacing in front of the station, I almost came to tears when I saw this miracle pull up.
ALLELUIA!
I’ve never been so happy to see a bus in my life.
After the 20 minute bus ride through the mountains and into the Chamonix valley, I got off the bus ready to wander the streets (with a Google map, of course) until I found my hostel. The bus driver must have sensed my confusion, and clearly my idiocy at thinking I could walk to this hostel, because he came over and asked me where I was headed. When I showed him the map on my phone, he looked at me, looked back at the map, and said five magical words that got me closer to tears than seeing the bus in the first place.
“Get back on the bus.”
SCORE!
That angel of a man drove me all the way to the hostel and dropped me off at the front door.
I’m so blessed. I ran into the hostel to find my friends cleaning up after dinner, and the hugs and laughter were almost endless.
That night I had a mini-celebration for successfully navigating European rail-madness and for all of the angels and signs that God had thrown my way. I imagine that most people who do this sort of traveling have at least one day that gets them to calm down and go with the flow… and this was definitely mine.
The next morning, I was even more astonished to wake up to this:
Where am I?!?!?!
This place was unlike anything I had ever seen before. Situated in the valley at the base of Mont Blanc, our hostel had some of the most amazing views in the world.
The four of us walked from the hostel to the train station to figure out the plans for the day. Madison and her brother weren’t quite sure of their plans, but I wanted to head to Zurich to meet up with another group of friends. On our way to the station, I got a nice tour of the downtown area, which was one of the cutest towns I’ve ever seen.
At the station, we figured out that we had a little time to explore before I had to separate once again for my trip to Switzerland. We went on a mini-hike, and I got to snap a few more gems.
Every turn was a Nat-Geo photo opportunity.
After an hour or so, I went back to the hostel to gather up my stuff, and headed into town to catch my train. I got to end my afternoon in Chamonix with a relaxing meal at a local bar, surrounded by locals, soaking up the scenery. Not shabby at all.
After lunch with some locals, being told ‘bon appetit’ by a random five-year-old French girl, learning that apparently ‘Tuesday is the new Friday’ for the bar scene, seeing the BEST French mullet of all time, and absorbing lots of love and friendship from those around me, I had to say goodbye to Chamonix.
It was not easy.
But thankfully, I was distracted by being Swiss-bound with plans to meet up with friends at a hostel in Zurich.
Still, it was hard to say goodbye to a place a beautiful as this one…
Next stop, Zurich!
Question of the Day: What was the most meaningful random act of kindness you’ve ever received?
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