Where else but Europe (or Asia, or the Middle East, or various other chunks of the world now I come to think of it) can you start a day trip speaking one language (in this case French) to order your coffee and croissants, then have to change to another language (German) within the demi hour (30mins) to buy the next coffee and a magazine, then English to ask directions then back to to French for.......................an interview!
Well I lie - the French was for the Starbucks (gorgeous, non PC chai latte - you know who you are!) and the interview was in English.
I thought it went well...despite spending A LONG TIME looking for a hole in the wall to spit me out some money (I knew I was in Switzerland when it asked for a minimum withdrawal of 200chf - this was further reinforced when I asked someone for directions to a 'cheaper' ATM, and no one else in the que seemed put out by the minimum withdrawal). I felt really bad as well as I kept passing the gypsy beggar outside in my rather memorable full length puffa jacket (no hiding behing a casual annonymity there then - you could practically feel me before I got near... "quick, hide, here comes that mad half woman half human marshmallow again"), up and down the long shopping strip selling very expensive stuff, up the stairs because the escalator was being fixed, through to the left, to the right, arrrggggggh, everywhere except where I needed to be.
I finally got my wits about me and jumped on a train to the airport to ensure (good word for the CV that...ensure) I arrived at a good time. Seven minutes later I'm there. I kid you not; the office is 2 minutes away and I simply have too much time on my hands (damn Swiss and their perchant for timeliness). Even after getting changed into my interview clothes (not a bad idea, having just spent 4 hours getting there), I still had loads of time left. I went to the self service baggage area to put my plasticky and very non professional shopping bag away - complete with snow boots and said puffy jacket. All full. I did a double take and then panicked slightly. This can't be happening. Que visions of me arriving at interview looking like a bag lady.
No problems, I soon discover another self serve baggage area, only this one is outside at the taxi rank, costs 8chf instead of 5 (several taxi men even counseled me against it - must have been the give away puffa jacket), and I get busy stuffing it full of crap (as one might say), proudly inserting my 2,1 or 0.50 chf coins as instructed, before closing the locker and pocketing the key. Course I did! Left all my papers in the locker - references, CV, job description complete with handwritten notes. There was nothing for it but to try not to cry like a big girl's blouse and reopen the locker, having squandered my precious coinage. I had more coins but they were 5chf and therefore not valid. Of course! Fool!
Trying hard not to focus on the stress of the interview I stopped rooting through my purse and grabbed my stuff and slunk away. Rather like a puffy bag lady. ...
I looked at the time and of course it was right on 2pm, interview time. Luckily I mangaged to get the right exit and arrived at the offices pretty much at 2.01pm. The nice girl on reception hid my bag lady status and I presented a rather better vision at the interview. Whew. No French. Whew.
The interview itself was fantastic, I was interview by global heads of this and that and came away with a great feeling inititally, to be replaced by nagging doubt as time went on.
I had plenty of time to get depresssed - another 4 hours train trip alone. The another hour in the car.
On the journey home my phone began to bleep sadly. I had been told to expect a call today or tomorrow via the agency. I had been asked if I could start work tomorrow. I was most anxious to get to grips with everything asap so I could arrange my life and the next possile huge 4 hour train journey.
My phone bleeped again and I realised the battery had gone from full to nothing in about 10 minutes. WTF!!!!! I am already stressed out. After several train changes, explaining why I had no ticket to the ticket controller and buying a new one (in French - bonsoir!) and going from, frankly a rather pleasant day, to full on snow, I arrived on the border at Le Locle (read: in the MIDDLE OF NOWHERE), standing in the snow and waiting for the autocar (bus) to collect me - which it didn't - instead being a very tiny train that I had simply not seen and therefore missed. It's quite frightening to realise you are in the A-hole of the world, with hypothermia, absolutely NO mobile phone signal and no battery, a public phone that only takes charge cards from a non-existant shop, and of course no station master (the station office having been converted to a not very often used ballet studio). There were several moments when the urge to cry was almost overwhelming, and was only abated by the fact that I had seen a real live badger that very morning. Ange, sitting in a truck in Besancon at 6pm wouldn't mind me being 3 hours late, would he?
To explain the Swiss mentality - despite living 'presque' (near enough to fart from Switzerland to France without straining) the border, there was no one who had any information on how I could get over the border. It was like a bloody black hole. Very uncouth. It's just as bad on the other side.
I eventually found an A4 laminated sign declaring a bus time table (yes, you guessed it - just the one bus per day) at 18.31. That's 1.5 hour wait. I ate a packet of MnM's (in stress) before finding a set of stairs that descended into the village proper. Aha, not a bad village after all (despite the lack of transport to France). Very cool, in fact. I went around the village trying to find the mobile phone signal that was so unobtainable 'up high' at the gare (station). You will be happy to know that I finally found it in time to discover 2 voice mails waiting - no doubt about the job - yay! - I didn't bloody know because that was the moment my phone battery died.
Sigh @~#!
I finally resorted to the following;
A - climbing back up the moutnain to the gare (FFS I nearly had a heart attack it was so high - why don't we ever realise these things halfway down)
B - calling the Swiss operator to beg for a free 'phone home'. She had no authourisation to call France ( a 15min car journey away) but instead called Ange for me and asked him to call me back. Restored completely my faith in fellow mankind. If I had been forced to go back down and up those stairs again I would have lost it).
C - waiting to hear my destiny when my phone could be plugged in and charged up.
So - do you wanna know the good news? Ruth has a JOB.
This is for you Anna - I hope you get a few good laughs from it. X
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