the birm*

And all that time I thought I’d be stuck in Switzerland…

So I went to Geneva today to pick up some campers for our ski camp starting Monday (just thinking about that idea cracks me up: “oh yeah, just drive to Switzerland to pick up the ski instructors…”

Because there was only 9 seats in the van, I met the crew, gave them the keys and caught a train and bus back to camp.

At Geneva train station there’s an access passage labelled trains for France. In this passage way are two booths, one for the Swiss customs, one or the French. It looks very scary and prison-like and there’s a huge sign at the front which says to have identity papers ready. The thing is, I only had my driver’s licence, which in terms of international documents looks like a toys-R-us card and holds as much weight as a toddler just woken up.

I had no where else to go and there was nothing I could do, so I prayed a quick “Lord this is in your hands” and walked through.

Evidently, these booths were hardly manned and were just a remnant from yesteryear (or at least only get used when they’re trying to catch a criminal or something). So I got through with no troubles at all (without being stopped or even looked at) and hopped on the train. I made it back to camp at 7:15, 13 hours after I’d left that morning and 15 minutes after the crew in the van.