The resolution to go to France got off to a slow start the next morning on the grounds that we didn’t know where we wanted to go. I recently did a translation exercise in an Esperanto course book where the passage described a Polish railway worker trying to sell a ticket to a man who neither knew nor cared where he was going, and our situation reminded me somewhat of that as we wandered vaguely around Geneva’s bus station looking for a vehicle which might be about to depart for France. No such vehicles appeared to be in existence and so my boyfriend approached a pair of drivers who seemed reluctant to recommend a destination, but mentioned that a bus to Annecy was departing in a little over an hour. Knowing next to nothing about the place, this was enough inspiration for us to shell out considerable quantities of francs for a ticket, and feeling excited in a reckless sort of way, we set off to kill another hour in Geneva. (more…)