Namaste

(Written 27.08.09)

Today I decided to check out the yoga studio I found online a few weeks ago while in Cd’A this summer. It’s called Studio 88 and is literally a one minute walk from the hotel, overlooking the train station. In order to enter the building that the studio is in, you actually have walk down the first platform of the station. Strange location, but I thought I should try it out regardless. And when the owner--Julie--messaged me back about the class schedule, she sounded nice enough. The only class she had in the evening was Pilates, but I figured why not, right?

The studio itself is really nice. I mean, it’s no CorePower (for those of you who know what I mean), but it had a bohemian flare and cool music that actually felt authentic. The wooden floor creaks occasionally, which I personally found endearing, and french windows open up to some beautiful buildings and of course, the mountains. Ah, sigh.

Then there is the train issue. Imagine this: you’re mindfully focused on your body, your breath, your environment, and Julie’s voice in order to follow directions (which are given in both French and English), and the rumbling begins... Soon enough the train is zooming by--yes, you can actually see it as it is about 50 feet outside the windows on the right-hand wall--and Julie has to pause her instructions since her voice would disappear completely with the sound of the high speed train if she continued. And once during the 90 minute class, not one but three trains decide to go by, one after the other after the other for nearly a solid 20 seconds of iron and metal and noise. I literally almost burst out laughing at that point because the whole concept of practicing yoga while you’re virtually standing on a train platform sounds just ridiculous. But honestly? That class was the best thing I could have done and I felt like a million dollars walking out onto Voie 1 (translation: Platform 1). And at the end of the class, I recognized one of the women as a hotel employee that works in the management office. Franchesca is her name (her title: Sales Manager), and we chatted for a little while after the class. If anything, going to the class made me feel a part of a mini community, and the fact that nearly everyone speaks English is just plain AWESOME.

Despite the whole train thing, I’m definitely going to make a habit of taking classes on my days off and when my schedule permits. Walking back to my room, I felt a sense of true normalcy and balance that I haven’t quite felt since I arrived in Montreux. And for that... hell, I’d practice next to a airport runway if it did the trick.