I tried to run, I kept my eyes open for alternatives. I may not have made it far, but I was officially out of the city. I didn’t see anything until I reached another train station with people milling on the eastbound platform.
So I ran around from the road to train station, an awfully long way when you think you’re about to miss the train. Across the tracks, a small crowd pointed me to the footbridge. I still missed the train.
No one among the crowd of commuters seemed clamoring to let me use their cell phone to call the monks and tell them I wasn’t going to make it. But I had to try something and I saw there was an office open at the edge of the train station. It looked open.
I paused, but gave it a shot. I just needed a little bit of help to call the monks before 6:30.
“Je suis de perdu. Je suis de New York et I need to call the Tibetan monastery to tell them I’m not going to make it!”
They were colleagues in a design studio having wine at the end of the work day, and luckily they had a sense of humour because they thought this was great, and before I could finish offered me a glass of white and a cordless phone.
“New York! Trump!”
I made the call. I guess the 6:30PM check in wasn’t as strict as it sounded at first, because the monastery said this time it was cool if I got there when I got there.
Solid! I already had a ticket so I could just take the next train and be there in an hour and a half. And I could hang out and have a glass of wine while I waited!
The designers gave me a poster of all their work and the program for the jazz festival, I showed them pictures of my trip, with the nuns, and they showed me the “Dominique Anique Anique Anique” video on YouTube and explained the joke. Also apparently Iggy Pop is still kicking and lost his tooth today at the Cully Jazz Festival! The world changes so fast.
Anyway, this was seriously the best thing that could have happened. It was the perfect end to a “day off” walking along the lake by hanging out with this interesting group of people without stressing about the next place.
They printed me a map of how to walk from the train to the funicular, and it was really good, they had super nice printers in their studio! But then, even though I still had my train ticket, they were like, well if you want we’ll just drop you off at the funicular station.
So that was that! A girl speaking English helped me find my way 8 minutes from the funnicular to the monastery.