Church in Geneva

This past Sunday I attended church in Geneva. I had discovered that there was an English speak ward there that I could attend but first I had to get there. I purchased a ticket online expecting to be able to print out the official tickets at a kiosk at the train station. However, when I arrived at the platform to catch the train I found that there was no kiosk. Fortunately, I was able to meet a French backpacker who spoke english named Patrick. He was traveling to the Pyrenees and assured me that I could still board the train without an official ticket. On all 4 trains that I took that day, I played the clueless American card (an accurate representation in this case) and the ticket masters were all very understanding.

It was a one hour walk to the chapel from the Geneve Eaux Vives train station. The walk took me by the beautiful lake front. Here's a picture of a paddle boat that was just getting underway from the Pon du Mont Blanc.


As I walked I felt like I was in Chile all over again: wearing a suit and not speaking the language. I arrived very early to the chapel. I studied and people watched as members of the French and Spanish wards attended services. The English ward felt just like the ward anywhere else in the world. The members were all very friendly and remarkable.

The walk back to the train station seemed longer than normal. I had only an apple, an orange, and a banana the entire day and that is not enough to sustain one walking 10 miles. The warm weather didn't help either; thankfully I was wearing my light grey suit. I arrived back at the Ecole at 9:22 PM, having left at 6:24 AM that morning. It was a remarkable trip and I am grateful that it usually does not take me 15 hours and $63 to attend church most Sundays.

One more picture: sunburned feet after Mont Blanc shennanigans...