International travel came late to me. Sure, I had been to Canada and Mexico, but I hardly considered that “international travel.” After all, I was born only 25 miles from Canada, and we considered them neighbors. Of course, driving to Alaska entailed more miles within Canada than in US territory. And living in San Diego meant Mexico was just a quick jog south. I did have a passport, but only because I needed one to fly into Vancouver to start an Alaska cruise.
That all changed ten years ago when, at the tender age of 65, I embarked on a new career as a seasonal employee in Alaska. Suddenly instead of being surrounded by career-minded professionals, I was working with retirees, college students, and international students. There was also a whole new group to me; I’ll call them The Wanderers. They were a whole cadre of seasonal workers who went from one seasonal job to the next. Alaska in the summer, Florida or ski resorts or Antarctica in the winter. In between, they traveled. Sitting in the EDR (Employee Dining Room), I would hear their stories of Europe, Australia, Southeast Asia, Central America-they all had wanderlust. Some were more passionate than others, but they all had a suitcase ready to go.
Halfway though my first season, my friend Diane (a dedicated Wanderer) sat across from me in the EDR one evening and said she found a condo in Switzerland for $300 for the week, and would I like to go? Before I even stopped to consider it, I was in! The rest of the season was spent making plans for the places we wanted to see and how to get around. We would meet at the train station in Geneva; Diane was coming from Paris, and I was coming from the Geneva airport.
Back at home, I packed my bags and made all the arrangements, and finally it was time to go. As my hubby drove me to the airport I got a case of the heebie jeebies. “I’m going to a foreign country alone. I only speak English. I’ve never been to Europe. What if I can’t find Diane? What if I get lost? Yada yada yada.” Dear husband assured me I would do fine, and it would be an adventure to remember.
Arriving in Geneva early in the morning, I went through customs and was terrified that I wouldn’t be able to understand the customs officer. But he spoke English. “Where will you be staying, madame?” I nervously pulled out the hotel confirmation and hesitantly told him I’d be going to the ski resort city of “lay-SIN”. He smiled and shook his head ruefully, and said, “Ah, LAYson” in his wonderful accent that made me wish I had taken French in high school. Stamp! And off to downtown Geneva to explore until time to meet Diane at the train station.
According to my friend Diane, you are never lost if you are with someone. You are just exploring new places.
The train station had a place to store my bag (only one-orders from Diane), and I grabbed my camera to go exploring. I was so enchanted with the city that I didn’t have time to be nervous! Until it got near to the time to meet Diane. What if she missed the train? What if it’s late? What if I can’t find her? But at the appointed time, there she was, there we were, and there we went.
The first revelation to me was that language wasn’t really a problem. Nearly everyone spoke English, which embarrassed me for not being able to speak a word of another language. There were times when it was a challenge. The policeman we asked to tell us where the head of the trail down the mountain to Aigle started. He spoke very little English, but we did get his warning about “No go. Rocks. Very bad.” We went anyway, and I had the bruises afterward to prove it. And the woman selling cheese at a village Christmas market. She called another vendor over to explain that she made the cheese herself from her cows, and provided instructions on how to use it for fondue. And the restaurant we loved (and went back to, because it was wonderful) where our server carried on a fun conversation with us, then went to tend her other customers in German, French, and Italian.
We went to a castle that was a thousand years old, and a town that was about the same age. We wandered through cities where stores like Benetton showed their wares in the windows of buildings that were hundreds of years old. They don’t tear down their old buildings to build malls that will stand empty in 30 years. They just refurbish and repurpose them.
I learned a lot from that trip. First, according to Diane, you are never lost if you are with someone. You are just exploring. Second, people everywhere are kind, interesting, and willing to help if you are polite and treat them well. Oh, and the trains in Switzerland ALWAYS run on time. So don’t be late.
Travels with Billie 