Experience #4,980,384 not to tell my mother about...

So there we are in Nice and Cannes, thinking we're awesome, (and we are) until we try to get home. Emma and I had managed to get from Geneva to the French Riviera, swim and get a sunburn just fine. When we arrived at the train station in Nice to pick up two tickets to Geneva, things went way wrong. First, the lady sold us two tickets to Genova, on the coast of Italy, then, once we had gotten that straightened out, she told us there were no spots left on the train to Geneva that night. Frantic to get back by Tuesday, Emma and I purchased two tickets to Lyon, hoping there would be a late night train home to Geneve. Once we got to Lyon, we quickly realized that we were going to be homeless for the night. As the cop who kicked us out of the train station said "It's Lyon, it's not Chicago". With that boost of confidence we picked up our backpacks and headed out into Lyon at midnight. The station opened again at five and we were bound and determined to be the first ones in. The first bright idea we had was to take shelter under a bus station enclosure. After we realized that this just happened to be a major drug dealing point, we quickly moved to a more secluded corner bench with a view of potential attackers from all sides. Armed with my trusty swiss army knife, we began the arduous task of trying to get some rest before the five o'clock reopening. Two gentlemen arguing in some angry language, dozens of bycyclists riding past and random sketchy people didn't help the getting some rest plan. All the while I'm thinking "Please God, don't ever let my mother find out about this." Once 4:30 rolled around, Em and I made our way back to the train station with bags under our eyes and nothing in our stomachs. The friendly cops (more on that in a later post) were gone and replaced with a power-hungry security guard with a chip on his shoulder. Once we got in to the station, we waited to secure transport to Geneva, this time by way of an autocar (bus). Two hours and twenty minutes later we arrive in Geneva weary, hungry and disheveled. My night of homelessness had come to an end and I was happy to have a bed to come back to. I'll post more in the next day or two all about the trip and the crazy things that went down, but for now, cursed be anyone who shows this to my mom...