Friday, July 31, 2009

Culoz, part 1

I've been working on a last-minute grant for the past ten days or so, and it's been finished since Tuesday. The only thing holding up submitting it is that we had agreed to put my boss as project coordinator, to maximize our chances of getting it, and he's on vacation. All I need is for him to set up an online account with these people and give me his password, and I can send it off. The second that's done and confirmed, I'm out the door myself.
Finally, the green light!
Somehow I hadn't expected to be released much before the end of the day. Whatever will I do with myself? The question comes to a head.
Taking a train sounds good, so I head home to pack a bag. And water the vegetable garden, and the azaleas, and the drooping rhododendron. Man, that thing sucks up water. And send off the rent check. And now it's time to round up all the cats. They catch on that something's up; it's not normal for me to be rounding them up. Fine, girls, just stay outside until Saturday, then. No, I sucker them into the kitchen with the promise of a spot of milk, and close the door. Natalie would feed herself for two days, but poor skinny little Sienne would starve, and the silky Bandersnatch would miss having pillows to sleep on.
Looking at my train schedules I realise they all expired on the first of the month. Well, let's just go to the station and see what's leaving. On the bus, I look at my train map of the Rhone-Alpes region. Lyon-Grenoble-Annecy-Chamonix and around there. I figure, Lyon tonight, just staying wherever I can near the station. Then an early start to some small town. I'll put an option on making the return the same day, or staying over.
Actually, if the schedules permit, making the return to Lyon pretty late would be ideal. I could book my room for two nights, and leave part of my stuff behind that way, instead of lugging everything everywhere. Hmmmm, clever girl. But alas, I'll have to wait for Lyon to pick up the local schedules.
The guy at the station seems surprised by my plans. He asks me: Do you know Culoz?
Not at all.
Then he tells me: There's nothing in Culoz. Nothing. A good place to fish, but there's nothing there.
Actually, that sounds perfect.
I thought of going to Paris for my little escapade. Sheldon invited me to the season's last evening of live music at the Swan Bar, and it does sound like it could be fun. Although, late nights are not my thing. Paris is not really my thing. Mmm. Some other time.
Culoz, town of nothing, it is!


shabby girl said...

Wow, how adventurous are you? What a neat thing to do; just pack a bag, get on a train, and just go! Can't wait for part 2.

marc aurel said...

I love this story. Coincidentally we were rerouted through Culoz on our way to Moutier Easter before last. My brother was throwing a big wedding there for his son. Rerouted, the train rumbled very slowly alonside the mountains. Anything higher than a small hillock is a great thrill for us as we live in Southern Ontario. Your story has inspired me to post a piece John Cage and David Tudor used to perform.