A trip to the Swiss border (22-23/2/2024)

Well, this won’t much be about the photographs, really, as I had pretty much no time for tourism, although I did a lot of walking. So just a trip report/a few random reflections, to fill the writing gap, especially as this made me miss a gig in the end, so I’m writing this page instead of a concert report).

What is this about? On Tuesday morning, I was told I might be needed at CERN this week (days unspecified at the time). Sure, I could always say ‘no’ (this wasn’t put to me, but I know I could), but as, after discussion, it seemed this involved only going on Thursday and come back on Friday, I thought, OK, this is not even disrupting my training programme for the half-marathon (sessions planned for Wednesday and Saturday), so let’s do it, it will keep me busy, might be interesting, and by the preliminary look of things when checking hotels and working site, will just feed my walk/steps needs no problem. I booked the hotel first (on Tuesday night), it seemed easy, but transport needed a little more thinking. Geneva (train or plane?) or Bellegarde then bus? In the end I settled for Bellegarde, as it would not require crossing the border, and also timings seemed OK, if I could catch the 5pm train back, I might even manage to go to my gig, either via home missing the support, or directly and leave my bag at the cloakroom. A little hiccup on the Wednesday morning (woke up feeling rushed and not great) meant I forgot my corporate credit card at home so had to rush back home as there very few tickets left for the return, so I didn’t want to take a chance, as the later train was already fully booked and the last train would still only get me back after midnight, which I was not keen on. Thankfully I spent enough time at the office for my colleague I would be working with (though he’d be in Amsterdam) pointing me towards a few things I’d need to take from there. Drove home as fast as I drove off that morning (sometimes you can see the speed but not feel it when you’re really pumped up), changed the plan to have my training session in the park that day. Sorted out the train first thing, and then suddenly the boss contacted me again to ask if I could so a very little presentation that afternoon. I assessed the possibility and judged it was better for me to do the training session straight away before thinking of that then! Anyway, details, but it really was not being a great and pleasant day. Not much more to report from that day, the afternoon went OK and at least being home early meant less evening stress and being able to prepare my bag early. But true to the day, Arsenal weirdly lost in the last minute at Porto in the evening. Wish I’d gone to sleep earlier as I was feeling very tired.

The next day started fine, I’d slept relatively well, though I woke up way too early, so I was at the station well in advance, and boarding the train was comfortable. I was travelling second class and had just asked for a seat upper tier and window, and thankfully I got it. Thankfully, because as it is, those duplex TGVs, while being able to transport a lot of people, are not friendly designed for long travel in 2nd class at least: lots of 4-seaters, but the trick is only the window-seats have a table, the other two can sod off. So yeah, lucky as I could work on the way. Oh yes, one bad thing though, I’d forgotten my iPod, aargh. Never mind, I used my phone as hotspot and connected the iPad to it (it doesn’t have all the music on it, unlike the iPod, but can access it if connected to a network), so I could have music to isolate myself from the environment, and not having the iPod wasn’t toooo bad. The journey was nice, and the connection to the bus pretty swift and quick. The driver told me there were three stops in St Genis-Pouilly (I had bought my ticket already to save time, but it didn’t specify that), so I picked the one I had heard of when looking things up the day before. As it is, I should have gone off to the one before, but not a big deal. Google Maps is still my friend, so I decided to pass by the hotel first and have a shower there, as my colleague was still on the way to Amsterdam, and anyway the equipment that was meant to arrive there was delayed (the one for the CERN had arrived in the morning, so before me). The walk to the hotel was fine, just under 2km, in the rain, and only the very end was on dodgy paths, requiring puddles side-stepping. The hotel, despite being next to the big road, seemed good enough, the room didn’t feel too noisy.

Oh yes, the day before, I had e-mailed my contact at CERN, who explained I had to fetch my ‘access card’ from the entrance of the main site….on the other side of the border: CERN Meyrin. Just pretty much 100m into Switzerland. So I’d have to cross the border after all. I proceeded to get there, simple walk really, following a foot/cycle path (but I hardly saw any cyclist on it that day, and certainly no pedestrian). All in the pouring rain. After about 2.5km I finally found building B55 (I went a little too far at first, then back as the number on the building was only visible when coming from the other side, I only had to be sure where Entrance B was). There was a first room that said ‘access cards’ while another sign pointing to the back was saying ‘visitors badges’. Given the terms in the e-mail, I went for the first one, only to be told that I had to first do some registration process upstairs. Oh yes, the guy spoke to me in English, but I’d heard him speak French before so wasn’t sure, I told him either would do for me, so he stuck to French. One of the weird thing is, this was essentually a trip within France, and even if I crossed the border briefly, it was still French-speaking Switzerland. But I’m not used to speaking French when travelling, especially for work, so it felt a little bizarre. Anyway, I went upstairs, another nice guy welcomed me, and checked and found no trace of any request regarding me. I told him about my colleague being there the week before, but he found no trace of him either! I explained who should have made the demand, named my CERN contact, and I was put to another desk with another friendly woman who called my contact (called Martelli, not Martinelli which is obviously the name I had in my head because of Arsenal, but I got it right everytime I was asked :-)). The call didn’t initially seem to yield any substantial progress, there was some discussion about having used the wrong e-mail address when making the request. Anyway, at the end, it was established that I should go, not to the access card desk, but to the visitors badge one at the end of the corridor (I first heard, weirdly, B56 which alarmed me, but she specified just to go to the end of the corridor downstairs, so I didn’t have to chase another building – all buildings, down to the smallest shelter, are numbered at CERN, but the logic of the numbering is neither date nor location it seems, for instance 904 is not next to 905, etc….). So I got there, got asked by the woman behind the till if I had a code number (third time this was mentioned, but as I was never copied in any single exchange regarding my access, I had no idea waht that was), so I explained, she just asked for my passport and eventually gave me the badge, hurrah! A simple paper badge with a lanyard, with dates and customer details as well as my name. I asked if I’d need to bring it back at the end, but thankfully the answer was ‘no’, so I would be spared another extra walk (though as you will read later, I didn’t pass too far, but certainly that saved time on possible formalities!). And so, equipped with my badge, I proceeded to the French CERN site, back across the border.

During this walk, it started to dawn on me that I had wildly underestimated the distances. Now, while walking is not a problem for me, the weather and the fact I had to carry an uncomfortable backpack (with laptop and other stuff in) made it rather unpleasant. Lots of cars on the road, yet again there was a foot/cycling path, but in places it was flooded, some water bursting over manholes, and puddles on the road with the risk of cars or vans splashing on you. Thankfully, I managed to avoid most traps, and while pretty much wet, I wasn’t completely soaked. But it was another nearly 4km walk. Access on the French site was fine, the guy at the entrance was very friendly (probably especially on realising I’d walked the whole way), so I proceeded to my building (access via double security video call, nobody there), dropped my stuff, found the already installed equipment and looked for the parcel that should have arrived. In the meantime, my colleague had arrived at his Amsterdam hotel and was informed that his equipment would at best arrive the next day. It must be said that stuff he was meant to get and stuff I got were shipped from the same location at the same time. But ‘his’ got held up at customs on departure (and, we found out the next day, held up also at an intermediat point, so never got to arrive by Friday). Anyway, so the package wasn’t in the storage room in my building. I called back my CERN contact who told me it would only be delivered to the building the next day, so I had to go to another building at the other end of the site to fetch it. Now, I had no idea what the content of the delivery was, I thought it was just a board for the equipment so I could handcarry it back with me. Anyway. I got to the delivery building, the ‘old’ sign said it was open from 1pm to 4pm, but the newer sign said access to people not from the building was only authorised between…. 4 and 4.30pm. It was just before 3pm at the time, so I was fairly miffed. Thankfully, one of the guys working there passed by, I asked him about my parcel and he said to talk to the guy in there, I got round the delivery door (yes the door with the sign WAS locked, which is why I wasn’t sure what to do a few minutes earlier), and the receptionist indicated that yeah they’d received it and it was over there. I got to have alook and it was a big pallet with two huge suitcases so nothing I could transport. Helpfully, the guy unloading his lorry just outside saw me and said he’d just finish his task, get me to sign the form and deliver my pallet. Then I signed the stuff in and proceeded to get back to my building. Still in a little rain. I got overtaken by the guy in his lorry on the way, but he very kindly stopped to give me a ride back. He’d assumed like everyone else that I was by car. Sure it wasn’t that far away (especially after all the walking I’d already done), but that was very nice and we had a good chat, I told him I didn’t mind the walking especially as I was getting ready for the half-marathon and so he asked me a few questions about it and mentioned he was a runner too. Recommended I should try Marseille-Cassis (a famous and beauriful run). My pallet got delivered and he wished me good luck. Very nice bloke. From there I could unload the stuff. Except it was all locked in with some sort of cables, and while I managed to undo a few knots, I found myself a bit stuck. As luck had it, I miraculously found some pliers on the one desk that was in the storeroom in my building. So I somehow managed to extricate both the big suitcases then rifle through the content. One had wheels, the other not, but somehow after content examination, I decided I should bring both near the equipment. Just another video call to open the inner door and I was in for the rest of the afternoon/early evening. After that, the work bits went OK for what could be done, but I was exhausted, not helped by the noise from the equipment. So I took the 6pm update call lying on the floor, pretty much out of it… Also the transporting of the equipment made the back pain pretty sharp again, so that’s when I decided that no matter the timing, with the stress and physical exertions (more walks to come tonight and the next day, and the experience of my back suffering often more after gigs), attending a gig was a madness too far that made no sense one week before my race. Instead, I texted Alessandro and Walter to see if either would be interested in my ticket, and Ale took it (Walter went too). One thing sorted and peace of mind for the next day.

I left the building at about 6.30pm for what was to prove a nightmare just over 4km walk. I had studied the map, and the direct route seemed pretty clear, confirmed by Google Maps. Except that when it comes to walking from A to B, Google rarely bothers checking the suitability of paths. And so in the dark and still in the pouring rain, I proceeded to follow the road. Straight from the start, that one, to my surprise, had no cycling or walking path, so I stayed just on a sort of edge that wasn’t even always there. Facing the traffic obviously, but still hellish, as it was a busy road. Lots of cars, and I had no reflective panels to make myself visible. Some cars saw me and tried to run more centrally which was nice, but others didn’t, I got a few headlights flashes, and there were even a couple who plainly just drove closer to the edge. Cue a few V-signs and invectives from me. Sure they couldn’t hear me so I felt they wouldn’t stop and kill me, but yeah ‘FAAACK OFF!’ was uttered a few times. Sometimes there was a bit more space on the side of the road so I could feel safe, but at other times there was hardly any margin so I had to be on the wet grass or mud. And once I didn’t manage to avoid a big puddle completely so for the last 1.5km perhaps, my right foot was completely drenched. So I feared catching a cold or a bug one week before my race on top of it being an unpleasant experience. I eventually reached the roundabout where the road joins the one I had taken to the Swiss site in the morning, which meant the safety of the cycling path was there for the last few hundred metres. I got to my hotel exhausted and fairly pissed off, but also relieved. A brief stop and I decided it was time for dinner. Because yeah, on top of it all, with all the efforts and the mental strain, all I’d had all day was a coffee, one glass of water, and one of orange juice, before 7am in the morning. Absolutely nothing else. In other times I’d have treated myself to a big fuck-off burger and a beer, but there I had a caesar salad (big enough though, so not necessarily that much healthier), and a …..normal coke. I decided that for this once, I could do with the extra sugar. Even had a decaff in lieu of dessert. ‘Un déca’. Yeah I wasn’t sure what the French short version of it was. Actually, there was an odd thing that happened at the restaurant (it’s part of the hotel, I didn’t thankfully have to search any further, especially as there is absolutely nothing else in the immediate vicinity of the hotel): the waitress who welcomed me first decided to address me in English. I think when I arrived I just made the universal gesture to signal I was looking for a table for one, but I’m nost sure if I said anything in English or French with it. Either way, I’m certain I used French after. Yet she weirdly insisted on asking me for my order in English. I thought maybe she didn’t speak French? But actually she did speak French without accent to the guy at the next table so no. Just odd. Other waiter/waitress didn’t speak to me in English. It’s not like it’s the Eurostar, it was still in France, and not as if I had an English newspaper or book. Never mind. I’d normally have adapted and replied in English, but here it seemed to make no sense. Anyway, I slept OK after that, though I woke up early again the next day.

A bright day the next morning, I had resolved to take the long route to the office (which makes about five kilometres rather than four) after the experience of the previous evening. A wise decision. Also as I had to have my bag packed with everything, I took the music with me (I’d left the iPad at the hotel the next day before setting off towards work), so after a simple brekkie, I enjoyed listening to the latest slowdive album on the way. Nice walk in music from 7.30. Even the flooded bits on the path were unflooded today. Quite cold though, but I had my gloves on (if I’d underestimated the distances, at least I’d correctly assessed both days’ weather). And so I made my way to building 773 (2017) again. All morning I was convinced it was 377. Sure I was tired the day before, too tired to remember, but I think it’s more a symptom of my cognitive problems/long-standing issues. I sometimes am very disordered. The whole English/French, left/right confusion (not so easy when you walk or run around and people expect you to go right when you cross them but you’re intent on staying left, actually I think I had problems with that from childhood, I remember always having issues telling my left from my right, until I (unintentionally!) dropped a heavy stone on my left little finger at home one day, had to have stitches and so had a slightly deformed nail that side, and it helped me identify left from right – I don’t need that now, but I did then), and very often, you’ll find I’m good at remembering words or digits, but not in the right order. It’s a little weird, but it happens more often than I wish and I can feel that confusion in my brain.

Work went OK, nothing of note, really, except I had to do a little more work on the ‘cold’ aisle again, where the light switches off every 30 fucking second. So the solution is to walk about a bit to have it come back on again. Very annoying. Both me and my colleague in Amsterdam had to leave at about 3pm, so timing was OK and we managed to do what we could do, knowing the other side of the optical link couldn’t be established. Oh yes, workwise, I forgot that the day before, the boss had tried to get in touch shortly after I’d got on site, and on him asking if I had two minutes, I quickly but curtly replied ‘No’. I had got back in touch with him before leaving the site, as work was finished and he was still online, and it turned out he had ‘forgotten’ I was away for that mission. WTAF? Anyway… so yeah, I left with time to spare on the Friday, so no stress and I could start the walk back to the bus stop. Now the closest stop was the other one again, but as I had time, I decided to push the vice by walking to the stop I’d alighted at the previous day. It’s only an extra 10 minutes or so walk, mind, so not much difference after another 5km anyway… Rain was back for that last long walk, albeit lighter than the previous day. And that stroll back through bits of forest is when I felt things were a little eerie around there. I’d come across a few more cyclists that day, maybe nearly a dozen, but still no pedestrian. And as we had joked with friends a few days before to avoid forests, I was brought back to the mysterious Chevaline killings. It’s not exactly nearby, though not a million miles away either. And I felt there was something slightly surreal in the surroundings here. Sure CERN initially reminded me of both my Mum and Tintin (there’s an album where they go there, I think, or is it Black and Mortimer? Probably both, something scientific always), but there’s that feeling of weird things, nearly Twin Peaks-like that could happen around here. Sure I don’t think it’s based on paranormal feelings etc, probably just the oddness of being the only pedestrian and being near a border (by the way, while it’s clearly visible and marked, I saw no custom officers when crossing that border the previous day), and I reckon I’d feel the same in the middle of any forest/mountain, it’s just that Chevaline connection, the CERN, and the fact I hadn’t been in such an environment before (but I don’t htink I felt like that in Crete last year for instance so….maybe just a state of mind at a certain point).

The trip back. I was fearing missing the train. Going from train to bus is fine, but the other way round, without the experience….hmmm. The schedule had 15 min between bus arrival in Bellegarde and train departure, which, after the way out, I knew would be absolutely fine if on time. But, it was Friday, and what chance the bus being late? I was at the bust stop more than 20 minutes early (I could easily have gone to the third bus stop in fact, yet I thought I’d done enough walking for the day after all), but as bus time came and went, I started to worry as I knew the margin wasn’t big. Hope faded, and the bus arrived ten minutes late. I though it might still be OK but needed to not get anymore delays. It’s Friday evening, perhaps traffic is bad. There was another couple of stops before hitting the expressway, I checked the timetable and we kept the ten minutes delay. Then when going off that road at the other end, there were a couple of stops before the station. But before we hit the next one…WTF? A bus, from the same company, had just about engaged in a narrow street in the opposite direction and there was not enough space for two buses. Aaaaargh. Thankfully, it was not too much into the street and could reverse, but that was still not so easy and another three minutes wasted. I thought there might be no hope. At the next stop though, it seemed we were still only about ten minutes late, so thankfully we might have made up a couple of minutes on the express road. But there were still about ten minutes to the terminus. And there seemed to be a few too many cars on the descent to Bellegarde (well it goes up and down, we got uphill at the end again). A roundabout delayed us but not too much… I got myself ready to jump off the bus and run, but thankfully the delay stayed at about ten, maybe 11-12 minutes (oh yes, now that I think of it, the margin was 17 minutes, not 15). I had got notice via the SNCF app of the departure platform a long time ahead so finding the train was easy and my coach was one of the nearest once on the platform so I made it in with 4 minutes to spare. ‘Plenty’ of time, well not a lot really but time to unstress for real. First class on the return (deliberately as I wanted to have the option to change trains if I missed mine, even if I had to take that super late one), I had selected an aisle seat (as initially thinking I’d need to rush off the train too for the gig); but as there was someone already at my seat (for convenience seating next to his brother), I actually ended up in the window seat. But again, no stress as I didn’t have a gig to go to at the end after all. So I was quite happy with that in fact. Note also that in first class seats are 2 and 1 in width rather than 2 and 2, so the four seats are covered with tables so aisle or window wouldn’t have been an issue for laptop use.

Anyway, the train ran on time, and on arrival I got all the luck, RER A straight on the platform, and only one minute wait for the RER B, which was in fact, nearly nothing because it allowed me to go to the part of the train nearest the station exit on arrival. Sure I briefly believed it was an express B before seeing it stopped everywhere so it wasn’t complete perfection, but really, very close to it and I was home before 8.30pm, which I don’t think can be beaten when arriving at 7.42pm at Gare de Lyon (another lucky bit was going down the stairs in the unmarked exit that goes straight to Hall 3 near the RER rather than go all the way to the head of the train that is in Hall 1/2).

Epilogue: I still didn’t sleep so well the next night, especially as I had to wake up for my training session, and I had to shorten the extra bit I’d plan to run, due to a bad pain in my right shin/ankle. WE’ll see tomorrow (on Monday) with the next session, but it’s possible that this work trip has actually fucked me up big time for the race. I hope not, because otherwise I could get very depressed/’murderous’. P.S.: as I am only able to finalise this the day before the race due to some laptop power supply issue, I can say it now: there remained a little pain but nothing major to stop me running the next sessions, so hopefully also OK over the distance tomorrow.

And now, at last, the photos that are the reason for me putting this write-up here! :-p

Well, now you can see, and hear, what my working environment was on-site.

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