The Journey to Meribel

The journey from Geneva to Meribel today reminded me of taking the bus to camp.

meribel-bus-transfer-genevaOn Saturday morning we returned to the Geneva airport to meet our tour bus, called, Bensbus, which from the get-go reminded me of a Girls Gone Wild-type spring break bus with the yellow bubble letters and “low price” guarantees on their website.

Rounding all 51 of us up for a 10:30am departure was like waiting for your one drunk friend to meet you at the bus on Saturday night. You are pretty sure it’s not going to happen, and when it does, it’s always just a tad embarrassing.

Soon after the bus left that the Brits sitting behind us cracked open a pint of beer, joked about a sign pointing to a French town sounding similar to “fussy,” and then discussed their fear of losing all their freedom when they one day have children. Thinking about it now, I guess it makes sense to get on the topic of children after being reminded of “fussy.” Yes, there are two innuendos in there.

Transferring to a Meribel destined mini bus in Moûtiers proved to be more like a flight for your life to use the bathroom, and once reaching the bathroom, running back to the mini bus in desperation because the bathroom costs 50 cents in Euros. This price seemed like a rip off to me once I was in the loo because there was literally no seat, just the john.

Arriving in sunny Meribel, where most skiers are sporting their one-piece neon suits, and children all of a sudden seem to be not so annoying when they are fighting because they are screaming in French, and a crepe still looks delicious despite the circling flies and sweaty older woman slaving over them, we realize that we are finally here. Finally in the French Alps for a ski holiday. This is how we will do it in France.

Got a good culture shock story, let us hear it!???

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