sophie beneath le dru, chamonix

this all looks very sweet and quaint but you should've seen us hours later, trying to catch our train in geneva. after saying our prolonged goodbyes to yann, our new best friend in chamonix, we hopped in our VW golf and headed toward geneva.

we forgot, however, that we didn't have a good map, and ended up circling 'round downtown geneva, yelling out to passersby for directions to the train station. right when i gave up on the idea of making our train back to paris, sophie pulled a magical feat and maneuvered us, Formula One-style, down a back alley right 'round the corner from our car rental shop. she pulled up onto the sidewalk, driving the wrong direction -very french, soooo not swiss - and we hopped out and grabbed our bags.

sophie threw the keys on the counter and we booked down the street toward the train station, sophie running ahead of me huffing and puffing behind her with my snowboard bag, suitcase and back pack. along the way i spotted a pair of familar-looking socks on the streets of geneva - mine! sophie must've dropped them! - picked them up and stuffed them into my pocket, much to horror of two women who saw me scavenge the socks from the sidewalk.

i dragged my bags through customs - with my passport clenched between my teeth - and made it to the platform for france with 30 seconds to spare.

mon dieu!

i am always cutting it close. and i find that other people in my profession - who live their lives by the skin of their teeth (yes, you, sophie, and you, ed) - also make a game of cutting it close. after geneva, i failed to learn my lesson, and made my eurostar from paris to london with less than 5 minutes to spare. some people - me - just never learn.