Day One – 10/28/2014: On Which Sam and Andrea Travel for 24 Hours Only to Be Locked Out of Their Condo

This was an exceedingly long day – not going to lie.  Because we were using frequent flyer miles for our trip, we got a much better deal if we flew out of Houston instead of Austin.  So at about ten a.m., we hit the road east. As Sam later pointed out, we probably didn’t need to leave that early but my overly paranoid brain wanted us to get on the road in case _________ (fill in the blank with your own worst case scenario – I’m sure I thought of it.) Fortunately we arrived without a hitch and had plenty of (read: too much perhaps?) time to kill in the airport but were soon on our way.

With a brief layover in Munich (where Sam got his vacation off to a good start with beer and bratwurst) we were off to Geneva. 

But not before we took a 10 minute bus ride to our plane. So for those of you who are counting, we are up to three modes of transportation: car, plane, bus. Then in Geneva we schlepped our ridiculous number of suitcases and bags (we SERIOUSLY over packed) to the train. After about an hour and half of the train, we dragged said luggage several blocks to the funicular – this super cool elevator type thing that goes straight up the side of the mountain from the town of Sierre down in the valley up to the towns of Crans and Montana.  

View of vineyards and Alps (if you click on the picture, you should be able to see a large version) 

After being properly impressed by the beautiful scenery, we managed to find our apartment building without any trouble.  The apartment itself was quickly located. The luggage brought upstairs.  There was only one thing missing.  One teeny, tiny, critical component – the key.  See, we are staying at an apartment that we purchased at an auction and I’d only communicated with the woman who owns the apartment via email.  She had been lovely and assured us that she would place the key for the apartment under the door mat.  No key was there.

Never you fear though, our host had instructed us that if we had any problems, we should be sure to contact the concierge. The only problem with that particular sage piece of advice was that the concierge was not to be found. Oh and even if we were able to find her, we had been instructed that she only spoke French. Which neither Sam nor I speak.

After some frantic texts to Sego, my expert on all things European and most importantly all things French, I had figured out how to ask the lovely concierge where the key is.  On the second call, she answered but my attempts at French simply weren’t cutting it. Mainly because any time I try to speak in a foreign language, my Spanish comes tumbling out. Fortunately, the concierge is actually Portuguese so between my Spanish and her Portuguese we were able to discover that she was four towns away and wouldn’t be home for another two hours. But at least she was coming home and could bring us the key! Victory was ours.  Food (and alcohol) was procured and a mere 28 hours after we left Austin, we collapsed into bed.