Annecy

 November 2019

After a number of train transfers and a brain-hurting but fun conversation in French with my train seat neighbor, I arrived in Annecy. It was all so painfully familiar, in a strange way it was like coming home. I had lived here for 6 months once, and it had always stuck with me.

My friend Emily had come all the way from Paris, and my friend Jennifer and her husband Sebastien were the ones putting us up, so it felt like the old gang all together again, which was really special. With all the snow, they took us straight up the mountains, which was breathtaking. 

I borrowed a waterproof jacket, but my jeans and sport shoes were hilariously unprepared for snow. It didn't matter though, we ran around in it anyway. 

The only regret was they had forgotten to put their toboggans in the boot! One day I will tick tobogganing off my bucket list, but clearly not today. 

Sebastien cooked us snails that night, which were just as delicious as I remembered. They refused to let us pay for any of the food and wine they bought from the supermarket which was so generous considering they were also letting us stay in their house! 

To make up for it, Emily and I took them out to dinner at one of our favourite restaurants the next night, L'Etage, where they do excellent fondue and racelette - perfect winter fare!

Walking around the old town at night with friends felt surreal, I was finally back! Annecy is one of my favourite places that I ever been, and being there made me dream of living there again.

The next day they were kind enough to take us on a driving trip around the lake, it was a misty, chilly day, but that only added to the atmosphere. We tried to go up the mountain again, this time with toboggans in hand, but the snowfall became too heavy, especially without snow chains on the car, so we had to turn around. Thwarted again!

We ended the day with homemade raclette around the table, as they had a nifty home racelette grill. It was delicious and I ate my weight in cheese. 

The weekend over, we bid farewell to Emily, who had to return to work in Paris, and Jennifer and Sebastien also had to go to work (it being a Monday).

 I was therefore left alone for the day, and decided to walk through the old town again, for a trip down memory lane. 

It was almost surreal how little had changed, my favourite bar was gone, but that was about it. Aside from that, no time could have passed at all. I walked past my old street (Rue de la Poste) and stared up at my apartment building. I walked along the lake, and admired the views, unchanged.

And then it was time to take my bus across the border to Geneva, where I would be flying out in the morning back to London. One last long wistful look at the lake, and I was gone.