I've made a huge mistake
Last night I attended Paléo -- an awesome music festival held each year in Nyon, about 25 minutes by train from Lausanne. Attracting a wide range of bands from all across the world, it is one of Europe's biggest and best music festivals. Last night, I saw the Pascale Picard Band (from Québec), the Ting Tings, Prodigy (who put on a crap live show, by the way), and the inimitable Franz Ferdinand. A brief aside: when did it become de rigeur for hip rock bands to dress as though they just got back from a photo shoot for the cover of Pulp's Different Class? Anyway, Franz Ferdinand was excellent, the whole festival was pretty cool, and a good time was had by all.
Around 1:45, I took the small shuttle train that was running from the festival grounds to the main train station at Nyon and once there, I got on one of the special late-night trains they had organized for the festival. According to the schedule, it was supposed to leave for Lausanne at 2:30. So, it came as a little bit of a shock to me when at about 2:05 the train I was sitting on started heading in the wrong direction.
Like an idiot, I somehow managed to get on the 2:00 train headed for Geneva (the opposite direction from Lausanne). Under normal circumstances, this wouldn't be too much of a problem: I could get off at the first stop and then take the next train in the right direction. But, as it was quite late at night, only these special trains were running. And, they were only running from Nyon. So, I could take a chance that if I rode the train to Geneva I could beg the conductor to let me ride back to Nyon with them, but this would only work assuming that the train was making a round trip and that this wasn't its last run of the night. If I went all the way to Geneva, I could wait around until about 4:45 and then just catch the first train back to Lausanne, but this would guarantee that I wouldn't get into my apartment until about 6:15 in the morning, and I'd have to hang around Geneva from 2:15 till 4:45 with nothing to do and nothing open. That sounded horribly boring night and a good way to pretty much wreck the following day. There had to be a better option.
So, I acted quickly. Maybe it wasn't a better option, but it certainly wasn't boring. I decided to get off at the first possible stop, then double back to Nyon on foot and try to catch the final "special" train at 3:30. I figured that at worst, I would have a long walk, miss the train, and wait until the first morning train in Nyon. The first (and only) stop between Nyon and Geneva was Coppet. Just checking Google Maps, I see that Coppet is 9.2 km from Nyon. I got off the train around 2:20, which gave me about an hour to go almost 6 miles.
Fig. 1: Paul's whereabouts, Thursday morning between 2:15 and 3:30.
There is a nice road with wide sidewalks that goes along the lakeshore, so I wasn't too worried about being hit by a car. I was also pretty much the only person in sight for about 90% of the way, so I wasn't too concerned about running into any unsavory types. My main concern was that people would see a weird guy in jeans and a tee-shirt nervously running through one of the most expensive parts of the whole country and immediately think the worst. Fortunately, though, I basically didn't interact with a single person until I hit the town of Nyon and -- without stopping -- asked a cop to point me to the train station.
I arrived at 3:25, got on the train, and made it back to my apartment in Lausanne by about 4:15. All in all, it really could have been worse. I woke up this morning a little bit sore and embarrassed, but I was able to roll in to work around lunch time and still have a productive day.
In totally unrelated news, I received a somewhat unexpected package in the mail when I got home. Recently, I got an email from former college and graduate school roommate Ian Copernicus Weiner asking for my mailing address as he had something to send me. If you know Ian, then you understand why I wasn't really expecting anything all that quickly. So, it was a little shocking that just a few short days later I would have a photo-mailer sitting in my mailbox. Since Ian is the proud father of one of the cutest kids alive, I assumed that it would be some sort of baby-related propoganda or whatnot. All I can say is: I was wrong.
I instead opened up the package to find the below original artwork staring me in the face. I think it is safe to say that this is the finest fine art I have ever owned (sorry, Velvet Elvis) and that I will need to find a truly dignified and worthy place from which to hang it so that it might be properly revered and enjoyed by all around.
Fig. 2: "Only God Can Judge Me" by Dan Lacey. In 40 years, I will be the envy of Antiques Roadshow.
Coming soon: Maybe one or two more posts about the big visit with the parents. After that .... we shall see.
Around 1:45, I took the small shuttle train that was running from the festival grounds to the main train station at Nyon and once there, I got on one of the special late-night trains they had organized for the festival. According to the schedule, it was supposed to leave for Lausanne at 2:30. So, it came as a little bit of a shock to me when at about 2:05 the train I was sitting on started heading in the wrong direction.
Like an idiot, I somehow managed to get on the 2:00 train headed for Geneva (the opposite direction from Lausanne). Under normal circumstances, this wouldn't be too much of a problem: I could get off at the first stop and then take the next train in the right direction. But, as it was quite late at night, only these special trains were running. And, they were only running from Nyon. So, I could take a chance that if I rode the train to Geneva I could beg the conductor to let me ride back to Nyon with them, but this would only work assuming that the train was making a round trip and that this wasn't its last run of the night. If I went all the way to Geneva, I could wait around until about 4:45 and then just catch the first train back to Lausanne, but this would guarantee that I wouldn't get into my apartment until about 6:15 in the morning, and I'd have to hang around Geneva from 2:15 till 4:45 with nothing to do and nothing open. That sounded horribly boring night and a good way to pretty much wreck the following day. There had to be a better option.
So, I acted quickly. Maybe it wasn't a better option, but it certainly wasn't boring. I decided to get off at the first possible stop, then double back to Nyon on foot and try to catch the final "special" train at 3:30. I figured that at worst, I would have a long walk, miss the train, and wait until the first morning train in Nyon. The first (and only) stop between Nyon and Geneva was Coppet. Just checking Google Maps, I see that Coppet is 9.2 km from Nyon. I got off the train around 2:20, which gave me about an hour to go almost 6 miles.
Fig. 1: Paul's whereabouts, Thursday morning between 2:15 and 3:30.There is a nice road with wide sidewalks that goes along the lakeshore, so I wasn't too worried about being hit by a car. I was also pretty much the only person in sight for about 90% of the way, so I wasn't too concerned about running into any unsavory types. My main concern was that people would see a weird guy in jeans and a tee-shirt nervously running through one of the most expensive parts of the whole country and immediately think the worst. Fortunately, though, I basically didn't interact with a single person until I hit the town of Nyon and -- without stopping -- asked a cop to point me to the train station.
I arrived at 3:25, got on the train, and made it back to my apartment in Lausanne by about 4:15. All in all, it really could have been worse. I woke up this morning a little bit sore and embarrassed, but I was able to roll in to work around lunch time and still have a productive day.
In totally unrelated news, I received a somewhat unexpected package in the mail when I got home. Recently, I got an email from former college and graduate school roommate Ian Copernicus Weiner asking for my mailing address as he had something to send me. If you know Ian, then you understand why I wasn't really expecting anything all that quickly. So, it was a little shocking that just a few short days later I would have a photo-mailer sitting in my mailbox. Since Ian is the proud father of one of the cutest kids alive, I assumed that it would be some sort of baby-related propoganda or whatnot. All I can say is: I was wrong.
I instead opened up the package to find the below original artwork staring me in the face. I think it is safe to say that this is the finest fine art I have ever owned (sorry, Velvet Elvis) and that I will need to find a truly dignified and worthy place from which to hang it so that it might be properly revered and enjoyed by all around.
Fig. 2: "Only God Can Judge Me" by Dan Lacey. In 40 years, I will be the envy of Antiques Roadshow.Coming soon: Maybe one or two more posts about the big visit with the parents. After that .... we shall see.
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